On Ellie’s other side, Jemina nudged her. “Dinnae look so worried,” the girl whispered. She looked stunning in her fine dress of pale blue, and Ellie was surprised how much of a woman the girl seemed. “Me Father is never one for talking at mealtimes.”
“I’ve noticed,” Ellie replied, trying to keep the disappointment from her voice. The clan had truly welcomed her, and she wanted to give the Laird every opportunity to back out and save face. She didn’t want to seem ungrateful or leave by sneaking off, but she could not marry him, especially now that she has seen firsthand how he would ignore her. She may never marry for love, but she hoped that there would be some level of attention and affection if she did ever marry.
Ellie glanced at Sinclair, whose back was still turned to her, then said in a low undertone so that he couldn’t hear, “He seems to be talking to everyone else just fine…except for me, that is.”
Jemina gave her a shrug. It had only been a few days, but Ellie was really starting to feel a bond with this girl despite Jemina’s initial recalcitrance. She hoped that the younger woman felt the same in return. It would be nice to have a friend. But if she ended up leaving the keep in secret or worse shame, the girl would never forgive her. Ellie felt her mood deflate.
Dinner finished with little incident, and then the guests moved into the ballroom, where the dancing would take place. Sinclair took Ellie’s hand and led her to the middle of the floor without asking her—which, admittedly, she found very annoying.
But of course, we must dance the first dance together. It isourbetrothal, after all. Perhaps now I’ll get a chance to talk to him.
He placed a hand on her waist, and Ellie tried to ignore how strange it felt as she placed hers on his shoulder in return. The music started, and they began to move. She’s known the steps since she was a child. They were on rhythm. They were moving together fine, but…
I’ve never had such an awkward dance in my life!
“My Laird,” she said, trying to catch his attention. He hadn’t glanced at her face once so far during the dance. There had been no pleasantries or conversation. “You dance well.”
“Aye,” he replied absently.
She waited, and finally, he glanced down, looking into her face. Something dark flashed behind his gaze, and he looked away from her quickly.
“Ye look braw tonight,” Ellie tried again. Maybe if she could soften him up, he would be more agreeable to discussion.
Sinclair grunted. It was as though even considering an answer was an effort to him. He looked at her—and again, there was that flash. “Ye look exactly like yer mother. Has anyone ever told ye that?”
“Aye, thank ye, my laird,” she replied, pretending to be pleased by the comment. She’d known it was meant as a compliment, but shedidn’tparticularly want to think of her mother at the moment. Still, if that were what it took to get him talking, she’d take it. “She wore this same color the last time she danced with my father. It was his favorite. I always thought she looked bonny in it.”
Ellie expected him to comment—perhaps on how he missed her father, or even just to tell Ellie how the color suited her too—but instead, he just grunted and looked away again.
The song ended, and another began before she tried once more. “My Laird? Could ye look at me?”
He whipped his head around to face her, seeming shocked that she would ask. “Ye ken, young lady, it ‘tispossible tae have a dance without incessant chatter.”
Ellie reeled back in surprise, dropping his hands. “I…excuse me?”
His warm smile returned—the same one he had welcomed her with and the same one which he’d worn when he proposed their union. “Dinnae look so surprised, me dear. Yer husband tae be is simply a traditionalist. I like tae lose meself in the music. Ye, as well, aye? It’ll help get rid of unnecessary emotion.”
“Of course,” she replied politely, though a shiver ran through her. His smile, his expression, both were warm—but for the first time in two dances, he’d met her eyes. And what she saw there was ice cold.
His gaze was entirely empty of emotion. There was no affection or warmth. At best, he looked disinterested in her company. At worst, he looked truly annoyed that he had to take the time to dance with her at all.
Ye’re paranoid, Ellie. Stop it.
Yet, she couldn’t stop herself from feeling shaken. She couldn’t make the discomfort go away. Sinclair didn’t meet her eyes again, and she found that she was glad for it.
The second song came to an end, and he dropped her hand, removing his hold from her back. He gave her a short bow, and she curtseyed in return.
“I must be off,” he said, not glancing at her. “Ye ken how busy I am, Lady Heloise. I’m sure ye can entertain yerself at a big party like this. Get tae ken yer new clansmen, aye?”
Ellie hesitated. “But…well, my laird, is it nae a bit strange if ye leave? I’ve barely seen ye since I got here, and—”
Sinclair met her eyes again, and the coldness was still there. “Now, Heloise, I thought better of ye than this,” he said gravely. “Ye’re a girl with common sense, are ye nae? What did ye think was going tae be involved in marrying a Laird? I have my duty, and soon ye will as well.”
Without another word, he turned from her and walked away. Ellie stood and watched him go. Once he was out of the door, the whispers began anew. Ellie wanted to shrink away. She missed her little tapestry nook where she could hide. It was starting to look like her idea of talking to a reasonable man and explaining why they could not be married would not be as easy as she thought. Yet, now more than ever, she knew she could never marry Laird Sinclair. She had to come up with another plan, but her mind was numb at the way he dismissed her out of hand. It was as if she were a child, and it had been her idea to get married instead of his offer and her mother’s acceptance. She was a pawn in whatever game the two were playing, and Ellie knew that she would have to find another way to reclaim her life as her own. But how?
She would not think on it anymore this night, she decided. It was a feast absent a Laird, and for the moment, the clan thought her to be the next Lady of the keep. She would have to play the part. Ellie lifted her head high and started into the crowd of dancers and mingling, ready to make whatever associations and polite conversations were necessary to raise her to the right place in their esteem.
Soon, she was smiling and laughing with the best of them. Ellie knew how to be charming when she had to be. But deep inside her, something was twisting. An uncertainty. A fear.
Why had Sinclair looked at her that way? Why had his smile been so warm while his eyes were so cold?
