“Do ye trust them, Da?” she asked softly so no one else would overhear her.
“I dinnae know yet,” Leathen admitted. “They seem tae be hard workers, yet the stories ye have told me I’m not certain I can believe fully. They are warriors, aye, but I dinnae believe they have told all that they need tae.”
That was the same as Bridget felt. While Bruce’s smile was easy and his words friendly enough, shadows lurked in his gaze, which frightened her. What was he hiding?
“Time will tell, of course,” he continued. “As I do believe ye have another admirer.”
Bridget sighed, though her heart wasn’t filled with dread like it had been with Fraser. There was something else there, some other feeling she couldn’t put her finger on.
“Good evening,” Bruce called out as they approached. “’Tis a fine night.”
“Aye,” Leathen responded. “Winter is fast approaching. I wager we will see the first snowfall before the week’s end. I’m assuming ye will still be here?”
Bridget watched as the two men exchanged looks. “That remains tae be seen,” Bruce finally replied, his eyes on Bridget. “Though we have enjoyed our time here.”
“Good, good,” Leathen stated, leaning over to kiss Bridget’s cheek. “I will leave ye in the company of mah daughter then.”
Bruce took up her father’s spot as he walked away. “Would ye miss me if I left, Bridget?”
She looked at him, surprised by his bold question. Did he think she was infatuated with him? They barely knew each other!
Or was he feeling the same feelings inside himself as she did whenever he was around?
“Och, I hardly think we have had sufficient time tae grow feelings,” she stated, feeling the lie roll off her tongue. She wasn’t about to tell him that she would miss him when he left.
“I would miss ye,” he murmured low enough for her ears only. “As I’ve grown accustomed tae seeing yer face every day.”
Bridget’s insides wavered, and she cleared her throat, torn between running away and throwing herself into his arms and begging him not to leave at all. It was maddening. “Perhaps we should join the others.”
He chuckled, and Bridget found a measure of relief from her torturous thoughts as they did as she suggested, joining the rest of the tenants for the dinner. During dinner, however, she was aware of his gaze on her each and every time, to the point where she debated pleading a headache and going back to her home.
If he were attempting to prove a point that she would miss him, he was doing quite well.
After dinner was served, some musicians started playing their instruments. Bridget gave Merdia a small smile as her friend took up with Marcus, her laughter heard as he swung her around the area that they had cleared for a dance floor. She wished she were more like her friend, to throw caution to the wind and enjoy herself without the worry of affection or promises. Her father was proof that affections could take hold of you and destroy your very existence once those affections were dashed. She knew he missed her mother every day, even after all the years that had separated them early.
Why would anyone wish to feel that sort of pain, subject themselves to the hurt?
“Would ye like tae dance, Bridget?”
Bridget looked up to find Fraser before her, his hand held out to her. He hadn’t bothered her lately, likely letting the rumors circulate so that when he did ask for her hand, she would have no choice but to accept.
“She’s taken for this one.”
Bruce came to stand next to Fraser, and Bridget was struck by the differences between the two men. How had she ever thought that Fraser could be passable in his looks?
“I dinnae see her rushing into yer arms,” Fraser growled, clearly not intimated by the burly Scot next to him. “Besides, I was here first.”
“Aye, ye were,” Bruce admitted, his eyes twinkling as if he was enjoying the row between them. “But as I am a guest amongst the tenants, her father would want her tae appease me whenever I feel the need of her company.”
Fraser’s expression darkened, and Bridget sighed, standing to move between them. “He’s right, Fraser. Father wants me tae ensure that our guests are comfortable.”
Fraser crossed his arms over his chest, glaring at a grinning Bruce. “I dinnae see how that extends tae a dance.”
“Well then, I guess ye will never know,” Bruce replied before wrapping his arm around Bridget’s waist and leading her to the dance floor.
She swung around and found herself in his strong arms, her hands finding his shoulders. “That was very petty of ye.”
“Of me?” he asked innocently, his expression nearly making her laugh aloud. “I was just stating the fact, Bridget. After all, yer da did leave me in yer capable hands.”
