Page 12 of The Lady of Her Highland Clan

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"Marriage? Yer bum's oot the window!"

Finally, Fiona managed a retort to Grace, her voice sounded assured, but inside, things were different. Flashes of Clyde as a husband sprung up inside her mind. Stupid, mad, bampot ideas that could never be real.

Fiona's light-hazel-green eyes sparkled with dismay, but it was herself she was angry with. For the last few hours, she had allowed herself to be transported—taken away to an alternate world where mad things were possible.

Clyde Greenock's sudden reappearance—a year after their first rather brief encounter—had got her on the backfoot. But she certainly had not been prepared for how much he would mess with her mind.

With no warning, she was all at sea. And this was something that cool, collected, and calm Fiona had no experience of. And with even less warning, here was her sister, suggesting she wed him!

But, oh, only if he was not already en route to the altar already!

Little wonder Fiona's head was in a spin.

But Grace didn't give up that easily. Her amber-flecked eyes gleamed in the candlelight. "Nay, Fiona, it is nae a bad idea at all." She smiled. Somehow, when Grace looked at her like that, she was powerless to shake her off. Her energy was infectious. Despite herself, Fiona found herself listening. "Ye just need tae think about it a wee bit an' discover a bit more about Laird Greenock an' his intentions. Dinnae fash, Sister. I will do some digging for ye!"

"Nay, Grace...!" Before Fiona could tell her to put down her spade, Grace disappeared. And in her place, almost immediately, was Clyde.

A million thoughts were buzzing around her head, but there was no time for any of them. Clyde pushed toward her, wearing a comely smile. In his hands, he proffered a fresh carafe of wine.

"Here," he said, pouring it into a wine goblet. Fiona took it with a smile.

"Thank ye." She held the goblet in her hands but did not drink any. There was enough confusion in her head already,

"Ye ken, this is quite a braw feast," said Clyde, with a slippery look on his face. Mischief danced in his pale eyes.

Fiona took the bait immediately. "Quite a braw feast?" she asked, her eyebrows rising inquisitively.

"Aye." Clyde grinned. Fiona could tell he was enjoying himself, and maybe, she was just beginning to. Without noticing, she had leaned in toward him, her head pressed closer. Now she was near, just close enough to catch his breath...and his scent, which was unfurling in the air above her, faint and masculine.

"Aye, I would say this is the second-best feast I've ever been tae." He smirked.

"The second?" said Fiona, with faux hurt. In actual fact, she was a little peeved. "Well, tell me then, what was the first?"

Clyde's light eyes darted from side to side. He looked away, slightly abashed.

"Well, it was the first time we met...the wedding," he said with a smile.

Fiona didn't know what to say. Despite herself, she gulped back the wine, it was smooth and fruity, and its heady punch almost knocked her clean over.

"Ye do remember?" he asked, innocently meeting her in the eye. Fiona felt the whole room fade in and out, everything blanching in front of her.

"Fiona?" Clyde's hand was upon her, steadying her. "Fiona, are ye alright?"

Fiona felt the world swirl, then gradually opened her eyes. Blinking, she looked at him. Clyde appeared, in a haze, his green eyes peeking out in concern.

"Aye, I-I am braw," she said quickly, with a smile. Self-consciously, she smoothed down her hair, which she was wearing loose with a plait. Straightening it, she wondered again if she should have gone for the crespine headdress after all.

But Clyde was not looking at her hair. Instead, he was staring at her eyes.

"Ye’re a bit peely-wally, milady," he said, concerned.

Milady!Fiona nearly laughed out loud. Looking in his eyes, it was hard to tell whether he was serious or not.

Behind them, Fiona was aware of a commotion. The music and dancing had reached a peak crescendo, but despite that, there was a thin line of elders watching her. Sensing their eyes, she backed a little away from him.

Suddenly, things in the hall had heated up, and Fiona felt a sweat coming on.