Disappointment that had nothing to do with Grant and everything to do with his daughter.
There it was again, Jeannie thought. That odd sensation of being watched. She’d felt it earlier, but when she’d looked around and found nothing unusual, she wondered if she’d imagined it.
Only half-listening to the woman beside her, Elizabeth Ramsey—who had delighted in telling Jeannie every detail of the latest scandal to hit the court within two minutes of meeting her—Jeannie tried once again to find the source of that eerie sensation.
She stilled, noticing him right away—though he wasn’t looking in her direction. It was impossible not to. Tall and broad shouldered, his lean muscular frame honed tight as a bowstring, he stood out among the Lowland courtiers and smattering of Highlanders like her father who’d answered the king’s summons.
Her body hummed with a strange energy.
At first, due to his height and muscled build, she wondered if he was perhaps a guardsman—the champion warrior of some great lord. But the quality of his fine clothing belied that possibility, as did the air of consequence and authority in his proud stance. She was still wondering when he turned around.
She gasped. The minstrels stopped. The chaotic whirl around her stilled. Every nerve ending, every fiber of her being came alive with a charged jolt. Awareness radiated through her from head to toe and she felt an odd squeeze in her chest.
She’d heard the bards sing of love that could strike like a lightning bolt and thought it a romantic exaggeration. Now she wondered.
His eyes met hers and held.
A second shock followed closely on the heels of the first. His eyes were otherworldly—a clear cobalt blue that belonged to the heavens. The contrast with the dark ebony hair that fell in soft waves to his jaw was enough to stop her heart from remembering to beat.
Handsome seemed utterly insufficient to describe him.
His brow cocked speculatively and she blushed, realizing she was staring. But she couldn’t look away.
Apparently the lack of maidenly modesty amused him and the faint hint of a smile appeared on a countenance that appeared otherwise unaccustomed to the movement, revealing the deep crater of a dimple in his left cheek. On such a serious countenance it was a charming incongruity, and her heart tumbled a little farther.
His gaze shifted back to the man at his side who’d said something to him, breaking the connection.
“Who’s that man over there?” she asked Elizabeth. Before the other woman could answer, Jeannie shifted her gaze, recognizing the man beside him. “Standing next to the Earl of Argyll.”
Elizabeth followed the direction of her gaze and let out a dreamy sigh. “His cousin, Duncan Campbell. Isn’t he gorgeous?”
“Argyll’s cousin?” Jeannie replied, apparently not hiding her interest as well as she should have.
Elizabeth Ramsay’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Don’t get any ideas. Well not any permanent ones at least.” She giggled. “I wouldn’t mind a wee ride on that stallion myself.” Jeannie’s eyes widened at such ribald talk, but Elizabeth didn’t notice. She was still gazing hungrily at the man she’d called Duncan. “He’s Campbell of Auchinbreck’snaturalson.”
Jeannie experienced a flicker of disappointment. Despite Elizabeth’s crudeness, she was right. A bastard son—even one of a powerful man like Campbell of Auchinbreck—was not a proper suitor for the daughter of Grant of Freuchie.
Discovering that he was a bastard should have discouraged her, but there was something about him. Something that rose above the circumstances of his birth. The stamp of authority and the unmistakable aura of a man who knew his own worth.
“There she is,” the woman whispered, unable to hide her glee.
“Who?” Jeannie asked distractedly, still focused on Duncan Campbell.
“The one I told you about,” Elizabeth said with a much put-upon roll of her eyes. “Lady Catherine Murray. Lady Anne’s sister.” Lady Anne was the lady-in-waiting sent from the castle in disgrace. “I can’t believe she didn’t leave with her sister.”
Jeannie’s brows gathered above her nose. “Why, the girl did nothing wrong.”
Elizabeth looked at her as if she couldn’t believe she could be so obtuse. “But her sister did, and she’s tainted by association. Bad blood, you know.”
Jeannie’s mouth fell into a hard line and Elizabeth blushed, realizing her mistake.
“Of course I didn’t mean…”
Me.Jeannie might not be the gossip of the moment, but it was clear that her mother’s transgressions had not been forgotten. Nor had Jeannie forgotten what it felt like to be the brunt of forked tongues.
Excusing herself, Jeannie squared her shoulders, lifted her chin, and walked over to the girl who was doing her best to pretend she didn’t know that everyone was whispering about her.
Though his cousin was talking to him, Duncan was vaguely aware of a heightened buzz whirling around the room, the whispered voices rustling like leaves caught up in a gust of wind. And Grant’s daughter appeared to be right in the eye of the storm.
