“I’m sorry ye missed it too,” Fiona replied, flashing her a sympathetic smile. “The eve was lively. Ye would have enjoyed it.”
Arabella huffed, sniffed, and pulled a scrap of linen from her belt to blow her nose. She still hadn’t fully recovered from her cold. Her eyes were watery, her nose red, and she looked thoroughly sorry for herself. “Did ye dance?”
“A bit,” Fiona replied vaguely.
“With whom?”
Fiona’s stomach sank. “A few different lads,” she said lightly. “I don’t remember their names.” She forced a smile. “It’s the mead and the honey cakes I love most about Bealtunn.”
“Did ye see anyone slip away to go green-gowning?” Arabella asked, eyes gleaming.
Fiona stiffened. As sheltered as she was, the lass knew about that tradition. Indeed, many a bairn was born nine months after Bealtunn, as couples forgot themselves.
Just like ye did.
Aye, she didn't need her conscience pricking her, reminding her. She was only thankful Ailean had withdrawn in time. Disaster had been narrowly avoided.
“I didn’t see,” she replied, focusing on the shuttle sliding through the weft.
The tapestry was coming alive now—the sea, the rocks, the castle’s base emerging stitch by stitch.
“Oh, ye’re no fun,” Arabella complained. “Grace scolded me for asking. She says I’m too—”
A knock sounded on the door then, interrupting them.
“Come in,” Arabella called.
Carrie entered with a tray of honey cakes and watered wine. “Lady Kylie sent refreshments.”
Arabella beamed and relieved her of the tray. “Wonderful. Please, join us.”
Carrie hesitated, but Arabella insisted, waving her over to the chair next to her by the window. “What was the dancing like?” she asked eagerly.
“Lively,” Carrie replied.
“And with whom did ye dance?”
“Rowan.”
Arabella squealed. “I bet he’s a good dancer?”
“Fine enough.”
Carrie’s attention shifted to Fiona then. Usually when their gazes met, Fiona detected warmth, laughter, as if the two of them were sharing a secret. But this afternoon, Carrie’s gaze was veiled, almost cold. “Fiona danced all night with Ailean,” she said after a brief pause. “Did she tell ye?”
12: HARD TRUTHS
A STUNNED SILENCE fell.
Dizziness washed over Fiona.Shite. This was the last thing she needed. “Arabella—”
Arabella’s gaze snapped to her. Her grey eyes clouded first with surprise, then hurt. “Why didn’t ye say?”
Fiona made a small sound in the back of her throat. She then waved a hand in what she hoped looked like a nonchalant manner. “I didn’t think it mattered.”
“Of course, itmatters.” Arabella watched her now with a shrewd look that made Fiona’s skin prickle. “Every lass in Dounarwyse wants a chance to dance with Ailean. He sets hearts aflutter wherever he goes.” She winked then, the hurt fading from her eyes. “I don’t believe it … ye’re blushing.”
Fiona swallowed. Hard. “I’m not. It’s just hot in here.”
