Page 151 of Claimed Highland Brides

The enormity of the stakes hit Aileen as the lawyer gazed intently at them all, his face somber. Her hands began to shake a little, and Barclay tightened his hold on them. Their fingers were hidden beneath the folds of her arisaid, but she could see that everyone was unfazed by their closeness. She wondered if Barclay had told his cousins about his proposal and her lack of an answer. She wondered why Barclay hadn’t pressed her for an answer.

She sneaked a peek at him from beneath her lashes, but his face was impassive, his eyes far away as he stared out the window. It was her turn to squeeze his hand in reassurance. He turned to look at her, a distracted smile on his face.

“It will be well, I promise. Ye shall get yer birthright back.”

He nodded. “Thank ‘e. I ken it.”

They arrived at the governor’s brightly lit mansion and joined a line of carriages waiting to drop off their occupants at the door.

“Are ye all ready?” Euan asked.

Barclay nodded resolutely.

“Si,” the Spanish brothers said.

Aileen nodded. “I think so.”

“If we all play our parts, we should leave here a lot better off than we are now.”

The door opened and they all alighted, ascending the stairs to where the butler was waiting to announce them.

* * *

Barclay could feel the spirit of his parents close to him as he moved around the room with Aileen. She was very good at introducing him to various people that had known his family when he was a child. He talked and laughed with them as they reminisced about his parents.

He realized that Aileen was essentially ensuring that when he did declare to the governor that he was the rightful heir of Inchcree, several of his guests would be able to attest to the likelihood that he spoke the truth.

His heart swelled with gratitude, and he smiled down at her. Her eyes smiled back at him even as they questioned his look. He put his hand out to her. “Will ye dance wi’ me?”

She nodded a bit jerkily, eyes wide, as she followed him to the ballroom floor. He snaked an arm slowly around her waist, light enough to propel her around the floor without being scandalous. His eyes never left her face, and it was all she could do not to duck her head and blush as red as a beetroot.

“Ye’re a very graceful dancer,” he murmured with a smile.

“Thank ‘e,” she whispered back, eyes fluttering.

What is happening to me? she wondered.