“Did you love him?” Laren asked. The woman’s voice was soft, sympathetic in her tone.
There were no true words to describe it. Edmon had been a reasonable husband, and he’d shared her bed each night. Their marriage had been comfortable.
“No, I didn’t love him,” she said at last. “But he would understand that I must do whatever I can to protect my sister from harm.”
Nairna came behind her with a comb in her hand. Slowly, she began unfastening the braids, loosening the strands until they hung in waving curls down Celeste’s back. “Do not cover your hair tonight, and do not wear it up.” She combed through the strands, and then arranged them over Celeste’s shoulders. “If you see a man who interests you, let one of us know, and we will help.”
Nairna turned to face her. “I don’t know you at all, Lady Eiloch. Thus far, you seem like a good woman. But I should be warning you—” she lowered her hands to her sides, her eyes turning serious “—treat our men with care. They are strong warriors, who would die for their women. We would do the same for them.”
At the feast that night, the mead was poured freely, as fast as the men and women could drink. Dougal remained apart from the others, watching as his brothers’ wives introduced Lady Eiloch to several men of the clan. Although it was likely that Nairna and Laren meant nothing by it, Dougal found himself unable to take his gaze from her.
Her hair was down, falling in waves past her hips. Nairna had loaned her a glass necklace, and Dougal didn’t doubt that every man was staring at the place where the pendant was nestled. Those who were even more drunk would start fights amongst themselves for a chance to be with her.
It wasn’t his concern. Why should he care if his kinsmen wanted to steal a moment away with Celeste? She meant nothing to him anymore. He intended to return to the horses, taking his leave from the crowd.
And yet . . . his feet would not move. It was as if an invisible spell had woven itself around him, making it impossible to do anything except watch her. Celeste stood surrounded by men, and yet, she stole a glance at him as if pleading with him to save her. Although she’d managed a smile toward his kinsmen, he could see her discomfort growing. She picked at her food, refusing several who asked her to dance. He knew, even if they didn’t, that she hated dancing.
Dougal finished his own fare, but it was tasteless. Even with the sweetness of the mead to wash it down, he took no pleasure in the feasting.
“I never thought you were a coward.”
Dougal turned and saw his eldest brother, Bram, standing behind him. He didn’t know what his brother meant, but he suspected it had much to do with his avoidance of Lady Eiloch. “She’s fine enough on her own.”
“She doesn’t want those men, despite Nairna’s efforts to make a match. Her attention is on you. Why do you not go and speak with her?”
Because she made her choice.
Dougal felt the suffocating tension rising up inside him. Seeing her among his family was abrading his mood, making him wish they would all leave him alone. “She wants my protection, nothing more.”
“Then you’re blind, lad.”
He bristled at that. He wasn’t an adolescent lad anymore, but a man grown. “I’ve better things to do.” Like drink himself into a stupor, to forget the way it had felt to be in her arms, to taste her lips.
“You’re afraid of her,” Bram predicted. His brother was baiting him, but Dougal refused to play any part of this game.
“I’m afraid of nothing. Especially her.” He strode across the crowd, his mouth tight with anger. There was only one place he wanted to be right now—far away from the prying eyes of family members.
As if in answer to his dark mood, many women smiled at him as he passed. Several were fair of face, but he ignored them all. As he drew nearer, Celeste’s eyes never left his.
His feet stopped moving, though he’d wanted to keep going. She was staring at him, a silent question in her eyes. He knew how much she hated people watching her. Like him, she wanted to be apart from everyone else.
Don’t, his mind warned. The best course of action was to keep walking to leave her behind. Hadn’t he learned anything since the last time?
And yet, he held out his hand to her. She took it without question, following him away from the MacKinlochs. Her hand was cool in his, the skin softer than he remembered. She said nothing at all but continued to walk with him to the stables.
“Thank you,” she said at last. “I was feeling overwhelmed around so many people.” She released his hand, even as she continued to walk alongside him. The evening was warm, and the scent of her skin caught his attention with the faintness of flowers. Her hair spilled over her shoulders, brushing against his hand.
In his mind, Dougal wanted to press her up against the fence, forcing her to admit that she’d chosen to wed the wrong man. He craved her kiss, and he wanted to touch more of her bare skin. But he pushed the errant thoughts away.
He stopped before the fence that enclosed the clan’s horses. Ivory trotted closer, likely expecting a carrot or a piece of dried apple. But instead of coming to his side, she stopped before Lady Eiloch.
“You’re a sweet girl,” she murmured, rubbing the mare’s nose. “I can’t imagine that anyone would want to hurt you.”
“Is that why you ran away?” Dougal asked quietly. “Was someone trying to hurt you?”
He hadn’t thought of it in that light, but she’d left so quickly, it was possible. The idea of another man trying to claim her made him tense.
Celeste nodded slowly. “And because I need help.” Her gaze fixed upon him, and suddenly, she reached out to touch his shoulder. “If you’re willing.”
