It was undeniably awkward.
He decided to stare at her head. Surely, the heat of his gaze was enough to singe.
He had just thought up the plan, and he was surprised when it worked. Her delicate fingers stroked the ribbons adorning her coiffure, before she turned to him.
Taken aback, he said the first thing that came to mind.
“How are ye enjoyin’ yer meal?”
“’Tis alright,” she answered, still pushing the food around her plate.
“Tell me why ye arenae eating,” he said. “Is it nae to yer liking?”
The words came out too fast, too eager.
Her fork stilled. He was sure he’d caught her off guard.
“It is pleasant, thank ye, me Laird,” she replied slowly, her tone hesitant. Her smile was strained and dutifully polite.
Was this what had come of their relationship? Very well, if this was what she wanted, then so be it.
But as he turned away, he realized why he had started the farce to begin with.
A second uncle was watching the debacle that was their awkwardness. Judging from the frown on his face, he did not approve and was probably also skeptical.
Adair could not have that.
Looking back at Emily as if she were his whole world, he placed his large hand over hers. Her fingers jerked, showing consternation. She dragged her eyes up his hand and fixed them on his face. It did not seem that she would pull her hand free, but he could not take that risk.
He slid his hand beneath hers and intertwined their fingers. It took a moment before she reacted. This time, when she refused to look at him, he did not take offense.
The tips of her ears reddened, heat rising from her neck, and her fingers closed over his knuckles.
He found his appetite positively restored.
11
“Iwonder what Scott’s daughter looks like,” Callum commented from beside Adair.
They had received word of Laird Scott and Lady Isla’s imminent arrival from a rider Laird Scott had sent ahead and had decided to meet them in front of the castle rather than let someone else show them in.
Callum bounced on his heels nervously, the first sign of anxiety he had shown since he had broached the topic.
While Adair had once hoped that neither of them would have to wed against their wishes, the future of the clan had weighed on him so heavily that he had begun looking into marriage prospects. When he had discovered that Laird Scott had a daughter of marriageable age, he had immediately written to the man following advice from his councilmen.
What he hadn’t expected, however, was for Callum to volunteer himself.
Six years younger than Adair, he had lived an unburdened life following their father’s death, and while he did not dally with the clanswomen, he was known to be somewhat of a flirt with a thirst for adventure.
Adair had argued against it at first, but at his insistence on doing something beneficial for the clan, he had been powerless to refuse him the opportunity to serve. Even though deep down, he was grateful to have been spared the duty.
He nudged his brother with his elbow. “Quit worrying. Yer face is handsome enough that she will like ye. And if ye’re lucky, she will be a bonny bride.”
Callum shot him a dirty glare, then broke into a wide grin. “That isnae comforting enough, Braither,” he drawled. “Surely, ye can do better.”
“I wish I could,” Adair answered, smiling in return.
He was glad to see the anxiety vanish from his face as quickly as it had come.
