“I will decide what is, or is not, necessary, for by bringing the Drumloch heiress here, you have involved me in her disappearance. Not just now, but five years ago. I will therefore spare no expense in assuring her safe return to her family.”
A lively reel began, and members of the clan rose to dance.
“When you reach the town of Killin,” Angus continued, “hire a coach and a reliable driver. Stop as often as she wishes, and when you are finished in Edinburgh, take her home to Drumloch by coach. Purchase a vehicle if you must, but see that she arrives home in luxury. And if Raonaid lifts the curse, for God’s sake, release your pent-up lust on someone else, Lachlan, not Lady Catherine. She is not for you.”
Angus turned and left him standing alone, uneasy with the notion that he might not possess the discipline it would require to obeyallof his chief’s commands.
The music in the Hall seemed to grow louder and livelier while the dancers moved faster, their heels pounding across the floor.
Lachlan pinched the bridge of his nose, then grimaced through all the noise and chaos, his eyes searching only for Catherine.
Chapter Eighteen
Catherine danced a reel in the Great Hall, and by some miracle, remembered all the steps without having to think. Though she could not remember anything about her life, she somehow knew how to dance, how to ride a horse, and she could recite the Lord’s Prayer perfectly well.
Her cheeks were flushed with heat when the dance ended, and she fanned herself with her hand. She was still laughing when she turned and saw Lachlan on the other side of the Hall, standing under a stone archway, watching her with passionate intensity.
Their eyes locked on each other, and a spark of excitement lit in her belly. In the glow of the candlelight, he leaned one broad shoulder against the stones, and with his strapping form and powerful stance he flaunted a breathtaking masculinity that was unmatched by any other man in the room. The fine, chiseled features of his face, and his dark probing eyes, only served to increase his allure. No other Highlander could rival his extraordinary beauty.
The fiddle music roused her spirits as she became embroiled in a flood of heated emotion. It was too much. Too overwhelming for her heart and mind. She was forced to tear her gaze away from his awe-inspiring image and instead went to the table, in search of something to eat.
She picked up a bright red apple and bit into the juicy flesh, reminding herself that Lachlan did not welcome her attentions. He had made that abundantly clear when he was lying on her bed that afternoon. He did not want her to touch him. And yet he had not taken his eyes off her in the past few minutes since she finished the dance. He may have been watching her the entire time for all she knew.
She glanced over her shoulder at him again. He was still watching her. A hot pulsating thrill coursed through her body.
Did he know? Could he see how she responded to him? Could he sense her desires?
In that heart-pounding instant, he pushed away from the stone archway and began to shoulder his way through the crowd, keeping his eyes trained on hers the entire time.
As he walked toward her, everything about him exploded with erotic allure, and she wondered if all the other women in the room were melting with desire, as she was. Or was she the only one who could feel it?
It didn’t matter. She did not care—and she wasn’t about to take her eyes off him to look at anyone else.
He reached her at last and held out a hand. “Walk with me.” The deep timbre of his voice sent a hot thrill through her bloodstream, and she placed her hand in his.
He led her across the crowded, festive Hall.
“Where are we going?” Though it hardly mattered. She would follow him anywhere.
“Not far.”
He took her through a wider arched doorway and pushed through a pair of planked oaken doors that creaked and groaned on their enormous hinges.
Outside in the bailey, the night was illuminated by a bright three-quarter moon that cast long shadows across the ground. The air was crisp and cool on her cheeks.
“I can see my breath,” she said, stopping to tip her head back and close her eyes.
He was still holding her hand, and when she opened her eyes again, he was watching her expression with interest.
“There is something about you,” he said, “that makes me feel…different.”
“How so?”
His dark eyes scrutinized her. “I’m not sure how to describe it, except that tonight I felt young again. Sometimes you make me forget certain things that have cast a shadow over my life.”
“Perhaps my memory loss is contagious,” she said with a hint of a smile.
His eyes warmed. “I would not be sorry,” he replied, “if I could forget certain elements of the past and begin again. I think it would be a very pleasant way to live.”
