Page 16 of In Bed with a Highland Brute

Her wise thoughts broke in and she pulled back from him an inch.

“He has been a soldier fighting for the king as I went tae serve Laird Chattan. Much has changed in that time.”

There was something he plainly was not saying as he lifted his head and stared across the feasting room.

Eloise examined the space. Vast and as long as the courtyard beyond the tall windows, there were three mahogany tables stretching across the space, two on either side of the room near roaring fires in hearths so great that the mantelpieces stretched above people’s heads. The third table was upon a platform at the distant edge of the room. Decked with cooked peacocks that had been thrust back into their feathers and boars that had been cooked until their skin was caramelized, it was a sight to behold.

Colored cloths hung from the ceiling, rich in red, gold and green hues. Children who attended the first part of the feast hid behind these cloths, jumping out on their friends, then running toward the dancers in the middle of the space. The pipers she’d seen earlier that day sat on a bench all playing eagerly for the dancers who performed their ceilidh, red in the face either from the exertion or liquor.

“Why did ye never speak of such a happy place?” The question fell from Eloise’s lips.

Murdoch didn’t answer her, though his arm stiffened in her grasp. He led her around the dancers toward the top table. As they approached, Eloise’s eyes darted over three people who stood behind it.

There were two ladies, one dressed finely with dark blonde hair fastened to the back of her head and next to her was a maid, tall and beautiful with black tresses that had been swept into a chignon bun. Talking to the both of them was a man so like Murdoch that Eloise started.

He was a little shorter perhaps, but just as broad in the shoulders. His hair was a shade or two lighter and the eyes were a different color, but the bone structure was just the same.

“Clyde?” Murdoch called to the man as he approached the platform and climbed up.

“Murdoch.” Clyde broke off from talking to the two ladies. He rounded the table swiftly with such a smile on his face and eagerness in his step, it was easy for Eloise to see the love he bore his brother. “God’s blood, it has been too long.”

“Aye, it has.” Murdoch released Eloise and held out his arm. He and Clyde clutched forearms, in some manly gesture of bonding. “How are ye? Truly?”

“Well enough. I bear many scars now from the wars.” Clyde grimaced. “I imagine ye are much the same, brother?”

“Aye. Many indeed.”

Eloise glanced at Murdoch, noting there were few scars that she could see. Her mind wandered to where else these scars were on his body. When she found herself picturing him without his shirt and waistcoat, her palms grew clammy, and she attempted to dry them on the skirt of her gown.

“Ye and I must sit down and talk tomorrow, properly,” Clyde pleaded with his brother. “We can share war stories and laugh at each other’s victories.”

“I dinnae doubt ye will be able tae make me laugh at myself,” Murdoch said with an easy smile.

Transfixed to the spot, Eloise could not look way from Murdoch’s face. With his brother, he was a different man entirely. His face was softer, the expression much more endearing than before, that harshness gone.

“And who is this?” Clyde said, releasing Murdoch’s hand and turning to face her.

“Ah, Clyde, allow me tae introduce Eloise Maclaren.” Murdoch gestured to her, and she curtsied, stepping closer. “My betrothed.” To Murdoch’s credit, his voice didn’t break or hesitate as he said the words.

“Betrothed?” Clyde spluttered then laughed warmly. “Murdoch, this is wonderful news. I didnae think I’d be so fortunate as tae see this day.” He gripped his brother’s shoulder and offered a great smile.

Why is that?

Eloise was baffled by the words bust stayed silent.

“We shall have tae toast yer happiness tonight.”

“And yer own,” Murdoch said, gesturing to the two ladies behind Clyde. “I see ye and Harper are much closer these days.”

“Aye, our fathers insisted on a marriage tae unite the families, but I could hardly object, could I?” The way Clyde’s gaze swept over the blonde-haired woman dressed so finely said much.

“Me boys.” Laird Fergus appeared behind the two of them on the platform, clapping them warmly. “Come, come, I have a toast tae make fer the two of ye.”

“Nae now, Father,” Murdoch pleaded. “People are dancing.”

“It willnae take a moment. Come, take yer seats.”

Eloise was swept around the table as Murdoch took her hand. He stood beside his father’s tall chair, and she beside him, whispering in his ear.