Resisting the Highlander: A Scottish Romance (6 page)

Amongst the later arrivals was a young woman, a few years older than Bridget by the name of Elsie Carlisle. She arrived alone and apologized for her parents, who she said had realized at the last moment that they couldn’t come. They requested she come in their place.

Bridget could not help but notice that Elsie was very attractive, with brown hair and eyes, and wearing a gown that showed all the curves allowable. She seemed only a couple of years older than Bridget, but made her feel like a child in comparison.

Elsie merely nodded to Bridget as Robert introduced them, and then her eyes swept the room as if in search of someone. As she spied Aidan, she excused herself and hurried over to greet him.

“Ah, Aidan,” she cooed, “how very nice to see you again. You are looking well, but why haven’t you been to see me?”

She held out her had to him as she spoke. He smiled and raised it to his lips.

Bridget couldn’t quite determine if the look of pleasure on his face was genuine or just put on for Elsie’s benefit. Jealousy nagged at her as she turned her eyes away from them. She couldn’t understand why she would have such a feeling for someone she didn’t like and had no claim on.

Her parents’ voices broke in on her thoughts and she turned to greet them. “How bonny you look, lassie,” breathed her mother, who had never seen her daughter in such a dress. “That dress looks like it was made for you, but be sure and keep that tartan scarf draped across the front. The neckline is terribly low cut.”

“Dinna worry, Mum, I will.” Turning to her father, she kissed him warmly. He smiled proudly, squeezing her hand.

Most of the guests had already arrived when in came big James Tosh, a mountain of a man, resplendent in red kilts, florid face beaming with pleasure. When Robert introduced him to Bridget, he said, “Faith, and Robert was right, ye are a bonny lassie,” and without ceremony put both hands around her waist, lifted her up until her face was on a level with his own, and kissed her soundly before setting her back on her feet. 

Bridget, face burning with embarrassment, but not to be out done, answered demurely with a mock curtsy, “Thank you, kind sir.”

James guffawed loudly, throwing back his head and shock of white hair as he walked away to greet others of his friends.

Bridget’s eyes sought Aidan. She saw that he was still being monopolized by Elsie and her animated talk, but had nevertheless seen what had happened and appeared highly amused at Bridget’s embarrassment. She frowned.

The hubbub of voices was getting louder by the minute as friends greeted friends as if they hadn’t seen each other for some time. In the midst of it all, Besse came to Robert, saying excitedly, “Better get them all seated, sir, I wouldn’t want my dinner to spoil,” and off she hurried, back to the kitchen.

Robert motioned to Aidan to come and help get everyone seated. Amidst the commotion and laughter, the thirty or more guests were finally in their places around the long table.

Robert sat in the center of one side with Bridget on his right and Aidan on his left. Elsie had managed to get a seat right next to Aidan. Bridget thought she seemed bent on monopolizing him for the entire evening. He didn’t seem to mind.

To start the festivities, Robert got to his feet and gave a short welcoming speech to his assembled guests, which was met by cheers and hand clapping. Before sitting down again, he turned to an old friend, Sandy Stuart, saying, “Sandy, will you do the honors and say the Selkirk grace?”

“Aye, Robert, that I will.” He then solemnly repeated the age old poem of Robbie Burns:

“Some hae meat and canna eat,

And some wad eat that want it,

But we hae meat and we can eat,

And sae the Lord be thank it.”

The group chorused, “Amen.” Grace and answered amens over, Besse and her helpers quickly set bowls of steaming Scotch broth in front of each guest. This was quickly savored and demolished in anticipation of the traditional dinner to follow.

Then big James Tosh came from the kitchen playing a marching song on the bagpipes with Besse stepping out proudly behind him, holding aloft a large platter whereon rested the haggis.

Twice around the table they marched before stopping at Aidan’s left. Besse placed the platter on the table in front of him.

Robert poured four drams of whiskey: one for the piper, one for Besse the cook, another for himself, and one for Aidan, who was to address and slice the haggis. These were bolted down in double quick time. Robert drew the Skaen-dhu from its sheath at the top of his knee high stocking, wiped the blade with a clean serviette, and then handed it to Aidan, placing the hilt of it in his hand.

Aidan cleared his throat and with dagger poised, started to recite the poem by Burns, “To A Haggis.” At the verse which ended with, “An cut ye up wi ready slight,” he plunged the knife into the haggis, slicing it down the center, causing the savory vapors to rise, and the golden juices to ooze out and run down the sides.

Someone pounded on the table yelling out, “Well done, laddie, that’s a bonnie sight.” Others of the guests joined in and the rest of Aidan’s recitation was all but blotted out. Ceremony over, Besse whisked up the platter of haggis and carried it off to the kitchen to be reheated. Sandy Stuart got up again and recited another poem by Burns, the famous, “Tam O’Shanter,” which took about ten minutes to complete. When he was finished, the main part of the dinner was served: haggis, roast beef, and bashed neeps. 

Grunts of pleasure could be heard all up and down the table as the food was being eaten. Bridget had never eaten haggis, so ate little of it now other than just a taste, but heartily enjoyed the rest of the meal. Dessert of Scotch trifle and current cake was then served. Ale for those who wanted it and tea for those who preferred something milder accompanied the cake.

Glancing at Robert, Bridget felt pleased that she had come to be with him for this occasion. Never had she seen him quite as happy as he was now with so many of his old friends around him. Knowing that her father and mother were also there made the night one to remember for her as well.

When the dinners was over, but before too much commotion started, Sandy Stuart again got up from the table. Every head bowed as Sandy offered Robbie Burn’s prayer of thanks.

“And if it please thee Heavenly Guide

May never worse be sent;

But whether granted or denied,

Lord, bless with content.”

This was followed by a toast to the Royal Family, one to immortal bard himself, and lastly one to all the ladies present. After much talking and praise for the grand dinner Robert had hosted, Bridget saw three fiddlers began tuning up their instruments and became excited. She had been observing the guests and found the older folks’ conversation uninteresting.

Her grandfather noticed how quiet she was and broke in on her reverie, “Why don’t you get your favorite man, lassie, and start the dancing?”

She smiled delightedly. “Now that’s a good idea, Robert, and I will.” Rising from the table, she quickly went to where her parents were seated, saying, “Come, Father, will you dance with me?”

James Campbell’s face broke into a broad smile at her request. “How can I refuse such a bonnie lass?” He was right proud of his firstborn at that moment. Never had he seen her dressed as she was now, and never had she looked prettier, her face now flushed with the excitement of the evening.

Her eyes met Aidan’s across the table, but she could not understand the strange look on his face.  Was it anger at being ignored or disappointment in her choice of dance partner.

Turning her eyes away from him and taking her father’s hand, they moved towards the musicians and as they passed them, she said, “A waltz, gentlemen, if you please.”

To the delight of the onlooking guests, they swept gracefully around the room. She caught glimpses of Aidan watching them, brows lowered and looking most unhappy.

She was sure he was the one Robert had intended her to dance with, but she tried unsuccessfully to put him out of her mind. Some of the younger couples soon joined them on the floor, including Aidan and Elsie. The older couples were content to just watch.

The dance had barely ended when the musicians started the music for a Highland Scottish and more couples got on the floor. Before Bridget had a chance to sit down, Aidan came to her, hand extended saying, “Come on, lass, let’s show them how it’s done.”

She was startled for a moment. She considered that he was making fun of her and was determined to show him that she could dance just as well as he. She gave him an enigmatic smile.

Taking her hands, he led her to the open space on the floor, and then with his arms around her waist they hopped and whirled around the room. It was a fast, spirited dance. Her wide skirted dress few high off the floor. She had intended to be cold and distant with him but caught up in the music and  laughed along with him, matching her steps to his with ease. The faster the fiddlers played, the more she enjoyed it.

As the dance ended, he lifted her off her feet and swung her around, skirts flying high. Bridget caught a disapproving look from her mother. Robert was delighted as were most of the other men who had kept time to the music, pounding their ale tankards on the heavy oak table.

Then, it was over and they stood with the others, laughing as best they could while breathing heavily.

“Oh, Aidan, that was delightful,” she gasped.

“You surprise me, lassie. I didn’t know you could dance like that.” His face was wreathed in smiles. 

Instantly, she was on the defensive. “There’s lots of things you don’t know about me, Aidan MacLeod.”

He smiled, “Let’s go for a breath of air then, and you can tell me all about them.”

“I don’t want a breath of air just now,” she snapped at him. “You forget I am supposed to be the hostess.”

He scowled, eyes narrowing. “You just won’t let go, will you, Bridget?”

“And just what do you mean by that?”

He looked at her coldly. “Remind me to tell you sometime.” He turned and left her then, joining Elsie and two more admirers in a far corner of the room.

Bridget went slowly back to the table and sat down beside her father who was alone, her mum apparently off visiting some friends she hadn’t seen for a while. Her father surprised her when he leaned over to her saying, “Don’t be so hard on him, lass. You make a grand looking couple.”

“Oh, he’s such an arrogant fool–”

James Campbell stopped her with, “Now, Bridget, that’s no way to talk. The lad has an eye for ye. Give him half a chance.”

She looked at him with disbelief, eyebrows raised.“Why, Father, you too?”

He smiled his slow serious smile, thinking of the time he had been rejected by Robert when he had married Bridget’s mother, and also thinking how very much alike Robert and Bridget were. Strong willed and stubborn when they felt they were in the right.

He spoke quietly, looking at her fondly, “Think about it, lass, you could do worse. He’s a good lad.”

She looked at her father in amazement, but could think of no answer at the moment. As she reached for a piece of fruit from the table, she noticed Robert, kilts swaying, heading across the room towards them.

At about the same time, the fiddlers struck up the music for a quadrille, and it seemed the dancing space on the floor was instantly filled, her father getting up to find her mother and join the dancers. Aidan and Elsie were in the four couple set with them and dancing as if their very life depended on it.

Bridget watched them with mixed emotions, thinking how very lovely Elsie was with her flawless complexion, lovely hair and eyes, and a slender figure she displayed with a sort of haughty pride. She could indeed be a prize for any man. Bridget wondered just what her relationship was with Aidan.

Robert sat down at the table with her and asked, “Are you enjoying yourself, lass? You seem usually quiet.”

“I’m just a wee bit tired, Robert, but it is a lovely party. Look at my parents dancing, they are really having a fine time of it tonight. I am so glad they came.”

“Aye, lassie, I’m glad too.”

When the dance was about to end, the hubbub of voices got louder as friends visited with each other before they’d have to say goodbye.

Robert said, “The night is getting on, Bridget, would you play something on the piano before the guests go home?”

“Of course, Grandfather,” she answered getting to her feet. “Anything special you would like to hear?”

“Aye. Would you play the 'Mountains Of Mourne?’ It’s a great favorite of mine. I’ll ask Sandy to sing along with you.”

And so it was. Bridget’s expert rendition of the lovely old song combined with the mellow tenor voice of Sandy captured the attention of the guests. As the plaintiff words, “Where the mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea,” faded away at the song’s end, there were tears in the eyes of many of the older folks.

More requests for favorite songs followed and everyone joined in the singing. Even Aidan and Elsie came to stand around the piano with the others, and although she clung to Aidan as if she owned him, his eyes seldom strayed from Bridget. He seemed fascinated by the speed of her fingers flying over the keys as she added runs and glissandos to the comparatively simple songs. Then, it was time to end the festivities and the musicians started playing “Auld Lang Syne,” the closing song.

As she got up from the piano stool, Bridget was surprised when Aidan reached for her, and without asking, put his arm around her for the last dance.

She was exhausted and welcomed the support of his arm. As they glided around the room, she involuntarily rested her head against his chest.

The lowered light, the voices softly humming “Auld Lang Syne,” the very sweetness of the moment, all put her in a dream-like state that she wished could go on endlessly. She came back to reality as the music ended and someone turned the lamps up again.

She looked up into Aidan’s dark and handsome face. He was smiling his beautiful transfiguring smile, and at the moment all animosities seemed to have vanished. She smiled back at him, “Thank you, Aidan, that was lovely. Such a beautiful old song.”