FLAME ACROSS THE HIGHLANDS (13 page)

Horse racing, road bowling, and rounders took up much of the morning.  The men took part in feats of strength and mock sword fights. All the while  guests arrived intermittently from villages and castles nearby.  Some of the company were guests other distant kin who Brianna and her fami
ly rarely saw. The MacDonalds, and MacKinnons  made their presence known.  Soon the field was fairly bursting at the seams with drinking, merrymaking and laughing.  Only the fading sun put an end to the revelry, and it was then the throng returned to the castle, Ian Campbell in their wake.  His blue eyes were riveted on the breacon-clad figure of Brianna MacQuarie and in that moment he was fully aware that no matter how vehemently he might swear otherwise, she'd won more than the archery  tournament today. That wee, braw slip of a girl had won his heart.               

"By Saint Michael, give me the strength to stay away from her."  He couldn't hurt Robbie, would never cuckold a cousin, a member of his own clan, and yet heaven help him the longer he was here the more dangerous the situation became.

Chapter Thirteen

The great hall was warmly lit, the roaring fire inviting. Retreating to her own chamber, Brianna did what she could with her wind-tousled hair and bedraggled appearance. Choosing a kirtle of plain beige wool and a brightly colored arisaid  of yellow and green, she again became a lady.  Rentering the hall with her head held high, she took  the honorary seat beside her father which would be hers throughout the period of preparation for her wedding.

The hall fluttered with frenzied activity as large kegs of whiskey and ale were tapped and  venison was prepared for cooking.  The Highlanders would boil a quarter of flesh, whether mutton, veal, goat or deer in the paunch of the beast.  The animal's skin was turned inside out, cleaned and fixed to hang on a hoop over the fire. Now the meat sizzled and gave off a tantalizing aroma. Brianna
could not argue her hunger.

"Something for your appetite, Brie." Orianna grinned as she offered her older sister an oat
cake from a large wooden tray.

"My thanks..."

"I made them myself just for you......"  Orianna waited expectantly as Brianna dipped it in honey, cherishing its sweetness.  As the future bride she was to have the honor of taking the first bite of all the delicacies tonight.

"Very tasty!" Tears of deep emotion stung Brianna’s eyes at the gesture. Over the years she and Glenna had been so close that they had neglected forging a strong bond with their younger sister. She felt a flush of guilt as she realized how they had unwittingly shut the younger girl out. Now she regretted the lost opportunity. She would be going away and would miss the chance of seeing Orianna likewise honored when she came of age and married.
  

"Brie....."  The girl's long slim fingers grasped Brianna
's hand.

"Aye."

“I hate for you to go away.” The blue eyes mirrored a deep sadness.

“And I hate to go, Orianna.” Both blinked back their tears. “I….”

"Och, this is a time for merriment, not for cryin'!" Lachlan's voice was gruff, but Brianna thought she detected a mist of moisture in his own eyes.  "A daughter is born for the use of bringing the strongest clans together.” Indeed, Lachlan’s youngest daughter had been the first to go, fostered out to the MacGregors to strengthen friendship between the clans when she was but five years old. In turn, the MacGregors’ small son was growing up at the Macquarie hearth.

The custom of fosterage did much to bind members of clans together, or so
Lachlan insisted. Fosterage consisted in the mutual exchange of the infant members of clans, the children of the chief being included. Since Morgana was the youngest without a mother, it had seemed significantly appropriate for her to be the one chosen for fosterage.

“Kindred to forty degrees, fosterage to a hundred, as they say,”
Lachlan said. The custom had the advantage of enabling one-half of the clan world to know the other half and how they lived.

“Butye’ll miss us just the same.
” She’d never forget how he’d cried when his youngest daughter had been bundled off by the leader of the MacGregor clan. She knew how much he would miss her too. He’d already tol her.

“Aye.”
Lachlan let out his breath in a deep rumbling sigh. “I’m afraid I’ll be naught but a lonely old mon when my lovely chicks leave the next.” Oh, how he oathed the thought of Brianna going away, but even so, he knew the sooner this matter of the marriage was completed the better. Tears did not make him blind. He saw the heated glances Ian Campbell was granting his daughter when he thought no one was looking. It boded of trouble.

“An old mon? You?
Never.” Giving in to an impulse, Brianna kissed his cheek and Orianna followed.

The hall rang with raucous laughter, a babble of voices and the underlying accompaniment of music.  A parade of trays and bowls passed Brianna's way.  Strangely enough
, though she had thought herself to be famished, she only nibbled at the fare, trying  to quiet the unusual feelings stirring in the pit of her stomach.  Was it all the talk of her leaving that was upsetting her or was there another reason? Certainly her head ached.  As if a wee brownie was inside, pounding with a hammer.  Ignoring the pain that throbbed in her head, she looked in Ian's direction. The look that passed between them had the potency of a kiss. Looking hastily away, Brianna joined in the revelry that rioted in the room.

Get hold of yourself, Brianna
Nic Lachlan
! she scolded silently but it was no use.  Brianna knew she could deny it no longer.  She was drawn to Ian Campbell  devastatingly, beyond thought, beyond reason.  Indeed, she did not have to look his way to know where he stood, how he moved.  She sensed it.  Everytime he turned his heated gaze her way the hair at the back of her neck prickled in anticipation.  It was a feeling that unnerved her, she who had always had complete control over her emotions. Had she no pride, no loyalty? She was to wed with another and yet he drew her eyes despite all her avowals to the contrary. 

A myriad of fantasies whirled about in her head, thoughts of what might have happened between them if she hadn’t been spoken for.
A vision flashed before her eyes of a man pressed close against her body beneath the quilts, lulling her to blissful sleep by the steady rhythm of his heartbeat.  Closing her eyes she allowed herself the luxury of dreaming until her father's elbow nudged her in the ribs.

"The dancing, daughter, the dancing
.  It's up to you to lead it."

Lachlan MacQuarie
rose from the table and signaled for the dancing to begin.  Within a matter of moments the room was transformed, tables pushed back, chairs and benches pushed against the wall. Brianna chose her father as her first partner as the clansman hooted their approval.

"Let's see Brianna dance.  It's her betrothal we're celebrating," cried out Jaimie.
 

"Aye, let
's see her kick her feet." Erskin boldly winked."Every body must dance."

Three  pipers appeared
, accompanied by the Alastair on his lute,  and a small boy on a tambor. Lachlan MacQuarie danced with the agility of a young lad, laughing all the while.

"Ye remind me of yer mother, lassie.  It's as if the years hae been  wiped away.  We danced together she and I at our own marriage feast.  And now our wee bonnie daughter has grown up.  Where h
ae all the years gone, hinny?"

"Perhaps the fairies
hae stole them."               

"Perhaps..."  He reflected on that notion. 

Laughing young women chose partners and one by one other pairs of dancers took to the floor as Brianna and her father returned to their seats. Stepping gracefully, quickly, toes pointed with precision, hands thrown upwards in exuberation or warmly extended to smiling partners, the revelers frolicked. The couples met and parted moving their feet in spirited abandonment. Her father told her that long ago this type of dancing was part of a magic ritual
. Surely there is a primitive aura about it
, she thought.

Patterns of dancers formed, then just as quickly dissolved to form new patterns. Breacons swayed jauntily, skirts rippled as the tunes from the f
iddler and bagpipes filled the Great Hall. Ian Campbell threw himself into the celebrating, dancing first with Brianna’s sister, Orianna, then with the promiscuous Jeanne. Brianna seethed with a strange anger. Seeing him in the arms of any other woman was strangely painful. With a toss of her head, she thought to put him out of her mind. Everyone was dancing a spirited reel which set her toes tapping as she watched the gaiety. For the moment he was forgotten, but not for long.              

"Let's see
Brianna dance wi' the Campbell!"

"Aye
. Just because her husband isna here doesna mean she should be idle. The Campbell! The Campbell!” echoed a chorus of laughing girls.

“Let’s see
, let's see how a Campbell dances wi’ the elder daughter of our chief.”             

Brianna was unable to ignore the round of shouts which echoed all around the hall
, and in truth perhaps she didn't really want to.  Drawing in a deep breath she watched as Ian Campbell walked with lion-like grace across the wooden floor,  then she was in his arms. “You have been ordered to dance with m.”

"Aye, so ye hae..."

"Come."  He whispered, "If only for the moment, you belong to me.”

Brianna's breath stilled at the touch of his warm hand.
She stepped down from the dais, back onto the floor. Her blood quickened as his arms encircled her waist.  There was a glow in his eyes  and she reveled in the knowledge that in spite of her rudeness to him, in spite of her betrothal to another, he still wanted her.  It was as heady a feeling as drinking too much ale.

The pipes began keening, and she moved her feet dreamily as smoke from the hearthfiress swirled about the hall.  It was like a dream
, and she was caught up in the spell.  All around them her clansmen were clapping and cheering, stamping their feet in time to the music, watching as a member of a rival clan swirled her around the room. 

Brianna had never felt so passionately alive!  Her whole being was filled with conflicting emotions. He was swinging her around on his arm, whirling  her  about to a jaunty tune.  Her bright red hair flew about her shoulders in a fiery web as laughter bubbled from her throat. She felt immensely happy, danced with complete abandon.  Kic
king up her heels, bending her slim waist, her eyes fused with his as for just a moment their faces were mere inches apart, close enough for a kiss. They were too breathless to speak but their expressions conveyed a mutual attraction to each other.

"Let me show you a dance we
did in Edinburgh," he said at last, longing to fit her soft curves against him.  He explained, hurriedly showing the others how to do the steps. It was a different kind of dance--one in which the women executed the intricate steps of a dance as they moved in a circle, men on the outside women on the inside. 

Unlike the Scottish way of dancing, keeping an arm's length away, Brianna was shocked to find that there was a great deal of touching an
d brushing against each other. She could not help but relive the moment they had been together at the lake, and a strange quivering took hold of he, wanting him but knowing she must put such linging from her mind.

"You
're as graceful as a bird.  Is there nothing you can't do, little kelpie?"  The sound of his low, husky voice teased her ears.  His ocking smile appeared to taunt her, yet scold hre at every turn. His hard muscular body seemed to press against her own and burn where it touched. His gaze seemed to strip her naked, and with a blush she remembered his caress. 

She made no effort to pull away as he grasped her by the waist and lifted her high in the air as the pipes keened on. Indeed
, she sought the firm, strength of his arms.  Their hearts pounded in unison.   For a moment it was as if the two of them were all alone in the  vast room.  Och, if only he were not so handsome, and yet it was much more than that.  He had revealed strength, a determination today on the field that she could not help but admire.  He was in every way a most masculine man.               

It was more clear to her than ever that she longed for Ian Campbell, not some boy she’d never even met. Not some laddie who let another stand in for him. A feeling deep inside told her Ian Campbell would never let another man woo his bride.

“Ian!”

“Brianna. Ye must mingle wi’ yer guests!” Only her father’s booming voice brought her back to reality. With slight embarrassment she realized the music had ended and deeply regretted that fact. Even so, turmoil raged in her heart. Long after the fires dimmed, as she settled in her bed, Brianna’s mind danced with memories of the all too brief time she’d shared with Ian Campbell in the forest and in his arms tonight. It pushed all thought of her impending wedding away. She wanted Ian Campbell. By Saint Michael she could deny I no longer. The question that haunted her was what to do about it.

Glenna viewed the stairs with trepidation, knowing she must somehow find the courage to talk with her father. Even so, it was very difficult to force her legs to take the necessary steps. She was a coward, terrified of the blustery anger her father was capable of. Was it any wonder then that she
stood as still as a statue, hesitating to make the first move to his chamber? She’d tried to bolster her bravery by drinking several draughts of ale but all it had done was make her a bit dizzy. There was just no potion thatcould give her courage that did not exist or put into her brain the right words to make her father understand her feelings.

“But still ye must ask him or take the risk of losing Alastair,” she scolded herself breathlessly. That prodding seemed to work, for somehow she found herself walking upward.

Though it wa a short distance to her father’s room, it seemed like a mile of plodding, one foot in front of the other. Up, up, up the stone stairs. Force herself to continue. Oh, where was Brie when she needed her? The last time she remembered seeing her twin sister was when she was whirling about on the floor with the Campbell laddie. More than Likely Brianna was already abed just as she would be  if she had gotten this matter over much sooner. She lamented the fact that she had not sought Lachlan out earlier, for surely she had meant to broach the subject at dinner when Brianna could be of help. The dancing hada been a distraction. Somehow the moment of self-confidence had dwindled and her courage had left. Now she would have to face her father all alone.