She couldn’t—sheshouldn’t—have decided on the gown tonight!
But her traitorous eyes found James amongst the crowd, and all thoughts of the mistake she thought she had made left her mind as she gazed upon his wide-eyed reaction.
A dull flush crawled up her neck, heating her skin as his eyes roved over her form, traveling upward until he was meeting her gaze once more. Iris felt the weight of his eyes on her, but also, it felt like the rest of the room had faded into the background.
Like it was just the two of them.
13
She was a vision.
James swallowed a few times as he gazed upon Iris, taking in everything about her in a gown that made her shine under the candles above their heads. Even from his vantage point, he could see the pink of her cheeks, as if she was embarrassed by his sudden attention, but James could not tear his eyes away from her.
He cared not about earlier, about the warnings that her brother attempted to force upon him.
All he cared about was the shyness about her this evening and how he wished to speak to her.
“Enjoy, mah competitors!” their host was stating, lifting his mug toward them. “And may the best Scot win in the morning!”
Cheers from those around him deafened James for a moment, but he didn’t take his eyes off Iris, pushing through the departing Scots to get to her. He wanted to be somewhere that all the others were not, where they could just be James and Iris without the worry of who might be watching.
“James!”
James turned to find Matteau next to him, throwing his arm over James’s shoulder jovially.
“Where are ye going?” he asked. “The dancing is just starting!”
“I will be back,” James replied evenly, shrugging off Matteau’s arm.
“Back?” his friend asked quizzically. “This wouldnae have tae do with a certain lass that ye have been warned against, would it?”
James shot him a look. “Dinnae tell anyone.”
Matteau barked out a laugh, holding up his hands in surrender.
“Nay, I wilnae for now. Go on, git it out of yer system, mah friend.”
James turned and headed in the direction he had last seen Iris, cursing Matteau for stopping him. Now she wasn’t where he had last seen her, and he wished to talk with her.
After a few minutes of fruitless searching, James shoved a hand through his hair as he stalked toward the door. He had lost her. He had lost his chance to spend the last remaining days with Iris. Tomorrow was the final competition, and afterward, there would be no cause to stay. The next time he would see her would be if their clans went to battle again.
His shoulders slumping, he walked out of the keep and past the hoards of clansmen that were mingling around in the courtyard. Tonight, they would all see themselves as comrades in arms and forget any grudge that they had with each other.
Tomorrow they would go back to hating each other.
James walked around the corner of the keep and felt someone tug on his arm, yanking him toward the shadows that the keep was providing. James went to reach for his dagger, but a gentle voice in his ear stopped him in his tracks.
“There ye are, Lennox.”
“Iris,” he breathed, turning to face her. Even in the shadows he could see her lovely features. “I have been looking for ye.”
She arched a brow, holding up a stolen bottle of whiskey between them.
“Would ye like tae join me then?”
Smirking, he snatched the bottle out of her hand and took a long drawl to settle his nerves. He had found her. She had been waiting on him.
“Aye, lass,” he said, wiping his mouth. “I would like that vera much.”
