Chapter 13

13

W hat am I even doing here? I shouldn't be here. What if he doesn't show up? Ewan certainly doesn't take me for one who likes these sorts of things. Still, a lady can hope.

"Ah, there ye are," Ava said as she waved her hand to catch Bridget's attention.

Bridget looked down and nervously tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The last thing she wanted was to draw attention to her presence. There was no doubt in her mind she was the only Englishwoman for miles and was as noticeable as a wet herring.

"I was wonderin' if ye'd be comin' down to see what the fuss was all about. Well? What do ye think?"

Ava spread her arms widely to showcase the festivities. Bridget's eyes widened as she saw young girls dancing precariously over long swords. The tempo grew faster and faster until only one girl remained and the whole crowd cheered. Bridget couldn't help but clap with joy at the sight. She'd never seen anything so dangerous and fascinating before.

"If ye're hungry ye'll have to go to the tables around the corner," Ava said. "Just as I predicted, me husband came through, and he's out there smokin' the elk. It'll be nice and tender come the night, but I'm sure ye can get a few tender bits if ye ask nicely."

Bridget glanced down at her fingers and shook her head. "I'm not hungry, but thank you."

She tried to ignore the tinge of disdain in Ava's tone. Bridget wasn't sure if she was hearing her mother's condescending tone and constant nagging about her weight, or if it was coming from Ava.

Stepping back for a moment, Bridget gave Ava a once-over. There was hardly any difference between them. Sure, Ava was a bit smaller around the chest and hips, but overall they shared the same pear shape.

Letting out a deep breath, Bridget felt a great weight lift from her chest. She leaned closer to Ava and smiled.

"Come now, ye must be starvin'. I ken I am. I've been lookin' forward to the feast tonight, so I guess my hunger pangs are self- inflicted. But I dinnae see why ye cannae get yerself somethin' if ye want."

Bridget couldn't help but smile at what she was hearing. There was no animosity between them, no jealousy or disdain. All she could hear was the kindness and mutual respect between them.

"Maybe I will get something," she answered, realizing that not only did she not have to hide herself but she was also welcomed there just the way she was. "If your husband's elk is as good as you say it is, then I must have a bite."

"Oh, ye're goin' to love it," Ava said as she looped her arm through Bridget's and led her to the smoke pit.

Bridget wrinkled her nose at the heavy scent of burned rosemary and garlic. The scent made her stomach twist with hunger.

"I dinnae believe it…"

"What?" Bridget asked as she scanned the crowd, hoping to find Ewan.

"If it isnae me other cousin, Logan," Ava said with an infectious smile and threw her arms around him.

Bridget glanced up at him shyly. She could easily see the resemblance between him and Ewan. Although Logan was handsome, Ewan had an edge to him that made her feel alive.

"Well, well, if it isnae the Sassenach everyone's been talkin' about" Logan said as he flashed her a crooked smile that only reminded her that Ewan wasn't there.

"Good evening, Sir," Bridget said as she extended her hand toward him.

"Oh, it just turned into one, I can assure ye," Logan said as he grabbed her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles.

As smooth as Logan seemed to be, Bridget couldn't help but feel an icy finger slithering up her spine. Recoiling from him, she flashed him a polite smile and quickly turned her attention back to Ava.

"What are the two of ye doin' over here all by yerselves and nae enjoyin' yerselves?" Logan asked as he grabbed three mugs from a passing tray.

With a crooked smile, he handed Bridget one of the mugs. Curious, Bridget took a long, deep breath, taking in the aroma. She wrinkled her nose as she tried not to recoil from the pungent smell rising from the brown liquid.

"It'll be sweet goin' down, but be careful if ye have too much of it," Ava whispered in Bridget's ear. "I promise there's nay cure for the pain ye'll experience tomorrow."

Bridget's eyes widened as she carefully placed the mug on the table, not even daring to take a sip.

"That is probably for the best," Logan said with a light chuckle. "Wouldnae want ye to have too much fun."

"Well, what can I say other than I was always taught to represent my family with honor and pride? I don't think I'll be able to do that if I give in to temptation."

"Clever minx," Logan said as he leaned around her, grabbing her full glass and downing it in one go.

"Perhaps, Sir, you might want to follow your own advice and be careful with such things," Bridget said, keeping her eyes on Ava as if she somehow could end the awkward moment.

"Ye keep callin' me ‘Sir'… Well, I dinnae think I've been called that before," Logan said.

"Logan, enough."

The mere sound of Ewan's voice rumbling behind her sent a shiver through her. Heat rushed through every fiber of her being. For a moment, she wondered if maybe she had been hearing things. But when she felt his firm hand on her shoulder, all of her doubts and fears melted away.

"Me Laird," Logan said with a slight nod of his head. "I wasnae expectin' to find ye here."

"Aye, well, I was informed I should make an appearance," Ewan said as Bridget slowly turned to face him.

Sure enough, the moment she laid eyes on him, her body responded. It was as if he had wrapped his arms around her once again and pulled her in for a kiss.

"I must say, I'm surprised ye did," Ava answered as she nudged Bridget with her elbow.

Bridget didn't dare glance over at Ava, not with Ewan's gaze lingering on her. It felt as if he were trying to see into her very soul. There was a flicker of apprehension in his eyes as the trumpet blared in the courtyard, notifying all of the Laird's presence.

"Ye and me both," Ewan said.

Bridget wished she had some excuse for leaving. Being so close to him and yearning to touch him once again was killing her. She knew she shouldn't have any feelings for the man, especially since she would be leaving so soon, but there was a spark between them she couldn't deny.

"Why did you come if you don't want to be here?" Bridget asked in a small, meek voice.

Ewan arched his eyebrows as he glanced at Logan. "I couldnae very well nae show up to a party I'm hostin'," he said. "What would me clan think about that?"

"Nae like ye cared last month when we did the same thin' for… Who was it? Ah, that's right, me ," Logan said. "It was three weeks before me birthday, and what does this Laird do? He hands me a purse of coins and tells me to go on a trip. How's that for a friendly fellow? Ha, me braither. Suppose I wouldnae trade him for the world."

Bridget's eyes widened as Logan continued his ramblings. Although she didn't have a clue as to what he was saying, she really didn't care. All that she cared about was the fact that Ewan had finally shown up. Just being able to see him was enough for her.

"How much have ye had to drink?" Ewan asked as Logan started swaying.

"Nae nearly enough," Logan answered as he threw his hand up in the air, nearly knocking Ava over. She grabbed his arm and twisted it behind his back.

"Cousin," she said in her sing-song voice. "I think ye may have had a wee bit too much. What do ye say we go to me cottage and let me sober ye up some. I dinnae think ye'd want to ruin me maither's party now, do ye?"

Bridget watched Logan swipe his hand across his upper lip and let out a frustrated huff. "Suppose nae."

"Come on then, how about we go get some of that elk and a bit of bread? Ye'll be right as rain in nay time," Ava said as she carefully guided Logan around the corner.

"Is your braither going to be all right?" Bridget asked, concern lacing her voice as she tried to crane her neck to steal one more glimpse of them.

"Aye, ye have nay reason to worry about him," Ewan said, his voice raspy and sharp. "Nae unless ye were lookin' for his company."

Bridget pressed her hand to her lips to stifle the giggle bubbling up her throat. "I'm sorry, but why would I want your braither when he's so much like the Viscount? No, I couldn't do that to myself. Besides, it takes more than a winsome smile to catch my eye."

"That so?" Ewan asked.

From the corner of her eye, Bridget found herself watching him watching her. The thought of having the Laird's attention thrilled and scared her. It was as if the most powerful man in all of Scotland was at her side.

"Do ye dance?" Ewan choked out.

"Not really," Bridget answered as she glanced at her foot. "I've never really been that coordinated."

"Ye'll have nothin' to worry about wit' me," Ewan said, turning his head to face her. Bridget's heart fluttered wildly as their eyes met. A surge of energy coursed through her. "I'll nae let ye fall."

"Are you asking me to dance?" Bridget whispered, trying to keep her voice low.

Her eyes darted to the people around them. Although she couldn't find anyone staring at them, she couldn't shake the feeling they were being watched and scrutinized.

"Nay," he said as he grabbed her hand. "I'm nae askin' ye. I'm tellin' ye."

"Ewan, stop, what are you doing?" Bridget asked, trying not to let the fear ripple through her voice.

"Dancin' wit' ye," he said as he pulled her onto the dance floor.

Bridget's eyes widened as her chest tightened. Trying to mask her horror, she took Ewan's arm. "My ankle?"

"Dinnae worry about it," Ewan said. "I've brought ye here, and I'll nae fail ye."