"Dance with me."
"I just finished a dance."
"Please."
The word came out rougher than he'd intended. Almost desperate. But it had the desired effect. Mhairi's eyes softened, and she placed her hand in his.
The musicians struck up a new tune, slower this time, more intimate. A couple's dance rather than a group reel.
Alpin pulled Mhairi close, one hand settling at her waist, the other clasping hers. The position brought them near enough that he could smell the lavender from her hair.
"Ye look beautiful," he said quietly.
"Thank ye." Her voice was barely audible over the music.
They moved together in silence for several beats. Alpin guided her through the steps they'd practiced in his solar, and her body followed his lead with an ease that felt almost natural. As if they'd been dancing together for years instead of days.
"Why have ye been avoidin' me?" The question came out before he could stop it.
Mhairi's eyes dropped to his chest. "I havenae been daeing that."
"Daenae lie tae me, Mhairi. Please."
She was quiet for a long moment. Around them, other couples swirled past, lost in their own worlds. The hall was warm and bright, filled with music and laughter.
And Mhairi looked like she might shatter.
"I'm afraid," she finally whispered.
"Of me?"
"Nay. Never of ye." Her hand tightened in his. "Of what I'm bringin' tae yer clan. Tae ye. The letter from me faither."
"I dinnae give a damn about that letter."
"Ye should." Her voice cracked. "Ashcombe is camped at yer borders. Me faither wants me returned. Graham wants his coin. And all of it, all of this danger and complication, it's because of me."
Alpin spun her gently, bringing her back against him. "And?"
"And if I pull away, if I keep some distance between us, maybe it would be easier when––" She stopped.
"When what?"
"When ye realize I'm too much trouble and send me away."
The words hit him like a physical blow. Alpin's steps faltered, and he had to force himself to keep moving, to not stop in the middle of the dance floor and shake some sense into her.
"Mhairi," he said carefully. "Look at me."
She lifted her eyes to his.
"I'm nae sendin' ye away. Nae fer yer faither's threats, nae fer Ashcombe's demands, nae fer any reason unless ye choose tae leave on yer own. Dae ye understand?"
"But the danger––"
"Is mine tae decide about. Mine and me Council's and me warriors'." His hand at her waist pulled her closer, until there was barely any space between them at all. "But mostly mine. Because I'm the laird, and I decide what risks are worth takin'. And ye, Mhairi Munro, are worth every single one."
Tears shone in her eyes. "Ye cannae promise that. Ye dinnae ken what might happen."
