Page 71 of The Last Debutante
“Then you should reduce my ransom.”
He twirled her to the left. “Never.”
Daria laughed. “I’d be quite disappointed if you did.”
The flute finally stopped, and a smattering of applause went up around them. Jamie’s hands slid from her body and Daria reluctantly dropped her hands as well. She was still admiring his handsome face when she became aware of someone beside her. She turned around and looked into green eyes.
“You dance very well indeed, Laird,” Isabella said.
Jamie inclined his head in response.
“I beg your pardon, I donna mean to interrupt,” she said, then spoke to him in Gaelic.
The smile bled from Jamie’s face. He looked at Daria. “Excuse me, please,” he said, and moved away.
Daria looked at Isabella.
Isabella smiled thinly. “It is his uncle Hamish. There is a wee bit of trouble.”
“Ah.” Daria stood restlessly, debating how exactly to make her escape.
“A wee bit of barley-bree, Miss Babcock?” Isabella gestured graciously to the sideboard and touched Daria’s elbow lightly.
They moved to the sideboard, where Isabella instructed a footman to pour. She handed Daria a tot, touched her own lightly to Daria’s, then sipped. “You’ll be away to England soon, I suppose.”
Daria wasn’t entirely certain how to respond. She glanced down at the amber liquid.
“Jamie’s told me about the ransom,” Isabella added.
Jamie.They were close, these two. “Yes.” Daria looked up. “Perhaps you know my grandmother. She lives on the Brodie lands.”
Isabella shook her head. “No.” She smiled. “There are so many Brodies, aye?”
“Yes, that is true,” Daria said absently. Every time she looked at Isabella’s green eyes, she imagined Jamie looking into them. She glanced around, hoping to find a friendly face, someone who might rescue her.
“I think the Campbells will miss you when you’ve gone. They all seem quite taken with you.”
That certainly caught Daria’s attention. “Me?”
“Aye, you,” Isabella said. Her gaze drifted over Daria. “You’re different than we are, are you no’? Rather exotic.”
“Me?”Daria said again, stunned by what Isabella was saying.
“In the Highlands, life is simple compared to in England, I think. It’s a wee circle. One is born into the clan, one marries into the clan, one bears children for the clan, one grows old with the clan. Our families are centuries old, aye? It’s right hard for a Sassenach to come into that circle.”
“Pardon?”
“Foreigner,” Isabella said, smiling a little.
English,she meant.
“Jamie and I will carry on the tradition as our parents did before us. Only this time, we’ll unite two powerful clans.”
So it was decided. Daria tried to ignore the painful, tiny twist in her belly.
“You will return to England to regale salons with tales of your journey to Scotland,” Isabella said lightly. “You’ll undoubtedly attend balls and marry one of your own, aye?”
This was no show of friendly interest. This was a message.
