Dominic cursed under his breath. "I willnae be long, Paisley. Just stay here, aye?"
Paisley nodded, visibly nervous, and watched Dominic turn and stride away into the crowd, people parting to let them by.
Then Paisley and Catriona were left alone.
Well, as alone as two women could be in a crowded hall, with Catriona's ladies and entourage clustered behind her seat.
"Come closer, child," Catriona said, leaning forward. "Let me take ye in."
A high-born English lady might well have taken offence at that, but Paisley only smiled and stepped forward obediently.
Catriona eyed her carefully, from the crown of her head to the soles of her very practical and sensible boots, dwelling on her English coming-out dress as she went. Paisley stood meek and patient while Catriona looked her up and down, seeming entirely at ease.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Lady MacLennan," she said, dropping into a smooth curtsy. "Thank you ever so much for having me. Your party is wonderful."
Catriona smiled despite herself. "I can see that me rough son and his tradition Highland manners havenae ruined yer manners, lassie. I hear that congratulations are in order. For yer betrothal, ye know."
The girl flushed, but admirably didn't drop her gaze beneath Catriona's unflinching stare.
"Yes, it's rather sudden, as I'm sure you're aware."
Sudden, aye,Catriona thought wryly. She wasn't a fool, although her son clearly thought that she was. She wouldn't put it past her son to conjure up an imaginary fiancé to stop her complaining about his lack of wife.
And then she'd seen them dance together, and now she wasn't quite so sure.
"Pull up a chair for miss, eh, miss...?"
Paisley cleared her throat, taking up the cue. "Paisley."
So she wasn't going to offer up a second name, then. No matter. Catriona already knew it.
A chair was produced, and placed beside Catriona's seat, and Paisley sat down gracefully. The two women watched the people go by, the silence stretching comfortably on for minute after minute.
From here – and Catriona had chosen this spot specifically for this reason – they could see into the courtyard along the hall and through the wide-open double doors. They could see the targets being lined up, the archers twanging their bows and taking up their positions.
Dominic would be among them, grimly determined that he was the only one who would dance with his betrothed that night.
"He thinks his faither was like that," Catriona said suddenly, carrying on the thread of her unspoken thoughts. Paisley threw her a questioning look, and Catriona smiled wryly back.
"Possessive, I mean. Not a man who liked to share. Dominic dreads becoming his faither, and for good reason."
"I see," Paisley absorbed this. "And is he? Like his father, I mean?"
Catriona gave a low chuckle. "Nay, he is nae. I'm sorry to say it, but he's me son in everythin'. I was the one who dinnae want his father to dance with anyone but meself on our wedding day. I was the one who felt as though I had to protect him from everythin', as if nobody else could be trusted to care for the one I loved. Of course, Dominic's faither was not the best of men, but that's neither here nor there. Nay, Dominic is me son, through and through. He's determined to keep ye for himself, that's for sure."
"He's a fine man, Lady MacLennan. Very fine, indeed."
Catriona shot her a sharp glance. It felt like a real compliment, not just the sort of thing a girl would say to curry favor with a future mother-in-law. Paisley wasn't looking at her, either – she was staring down the hall, out into the courtyard.
Catriona sighed. Her old bones didn't much like her moving around the room more than she had to. It was easier to set up in a comfortable seat and let everyone else come to her, rather thanmaking endless loops of the huge Great Hall. It wasn't as if she were expected to dance at her age.
"Come on, lass, let's get a better look," she said lightly, heaving herself up out of her seat. Her ladies rushed forward to help her, placing the handle of her walking stick into her palm, offering arms for her to rest upon if she needed it.
And yet Catriona found herself resting on Paisley's arm. The girl was patient and steady, not rushing her along in the slightest. That was good. Catriona had always relied on her own measure of a person, and so far, the English girl was doing well enough.
They made their slow way down the hallway, with Paisley carefully pacing herself to Catriona.
"It does me heart good to see him happy," Catriona said, more to herself than anything else. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the girl glance sharply at her. "He's been alone for too long. Too long."
