Chapter 19

CHAPTER NINETEEN

L iam strolled into the hall and pretended he was not looking for Ivy. The whole place was vibrating with music and laughter and the stomping of dancing feet. It was the sound of excitement, of humanity casting its cares to the wind and simply enjoying itself.

It was clear to him from the smiles on peoples’ faces that despite the threat hanging over Clan Stewart, the clansfolk had warmly greeted the cèilidh as a welcome chance to let down their hair and squeeze a little joy from an otherwise grim situation.

The mood was infectious, and after he snagged a mug of ale from a passing server’s tray and supped a little, he soon found himself smiling and tapping his foot, surveying the exuberant, half-inebriated throng before him.

But his eyes still sought the one thing on his mind… Ivy.

“Liam! Liam, over here!”

He heard his name being called above the din and looked for the source. It was Magnus, and he appeared to be standing on a chair, waving at him and beckoning him over. Liam grinned and made his way over to him.

“The party’s started without ye. Where have ye been?” Magnus asked him, slapping him on the back good-naturedly, clearly already well into his cups.

“Makin’ mesel’ look pretty fer the lassies,” Liam said laughingly. The more he had gotten to know Knox’s usually serious right-hand man, the more he liked him.

“Well, ye’ve done a very good job, I must say.” Effie said teasingly as she came up to greet him too and hung on her husband’s arm. “I see quite a few lassies lookin’ in yer direction already, Liam. ’Tis a nice change fer them tae have such a braw feller tae set their caps at,” she teased, glancing provocatively at Magnus.

“Hey, watch yer tongue, wife, or I’ll be gettin’ jealous,” Magnus pretended to complain, squeezing her waist.

She tickled his chin and giggled. “I meant the single lassies, Magnus. I’m already taken, of course, me darlin’,” she told him placatingly.

“What are ye drinkin’?” Magnus asked Liam, gesturing at the nearby table that was loaded with jugs of wine and ale as well as small casks of whisky that had been tapped to release the contents.

“Looks like I’ve got a bit of catchin’ up tae dae,” Liam said, considering the choices on offer. “I think I’ll top up me ale and have whisky chaser tae help it down.”

“Comin’ right up!” Magnus said, going somewhat unsteadily to fetch the drinks.

“’Tis a grand cèilidh, eh, Liam? The laird’s done his folk proud as always, even though ye didnae bring home the stag today,” Effie said, smiling up at him.

“Aye, that was a shame,” he replied, instantly thinking of Ivy again and the wonderful secret they now shared. “But one thing I’ve learned about Knox is that he likes tae have a good time, and he kens how tae throw a good gathering.”

“So, I take it that ye like bein’ here at Castle Stewart.”

“Aye, I like it fine. I just wish I was here fer a different reason,” he admitted. “I hope ye’ll be able tae relax and forget yer cares fer a few hours,” Effie told

him kindly. “That’s what Ivy says she’s gonnae try tae dae this evenin’.”

Liam’s ear pricked up and he looked at her keenly. “So, she’s here, is she?”

“Aye, of course. She’s out on the floor with the laird. If ye’re quick, ye might

just catch a glimpse of them.” She smiled as she gestured with her eyes in that direction.

Liam looked, and amid the whirling pairs of dancers, he suddenly caught sight of her. His heart skipped a beat, and his breath caught in his throat. She was whirling around the floor with Knox and the other couples, skipping from partner to partner, her face pink and animated. She appeared happier and more carefree than he had ever seen her. And radiantly beautiful too.

Her lithe body was laced tightly into a crimson dress with a billowing skirt and a low-cut neckline that showed off her pert, plump breasts. As she spun and twirled in time to the music, her long tresses flew out around her head like a halo. He had the impression she would take to the air at any moment.

Much as he loved Knox, he felt a stab of jealousy that he should be dancing with Ivy instead of him. But he had already decided he could not risk dancing with her. After the day they had shared, he could not trust himself to behave circumspectly. Magnus soon came back with two fresh mugs of ale and two whiskies, one for Liam, one for himself.

Liam had to tear his eyes away from Ivy and pay attention to his friend. “Thank ye, Magnus, they’ll slide down easy,” he said, finishing his current beer and discarding the mug before accepting the fresh drinks gratefully. He threw down the dram in one swallow, then took a good long draught of the ale. “Ah! That’s damned good,” he murmured, wiping the foam from his lips with the back of this hand, his eyes straying back to Ivy.

“She’s a bonny lassie, eh?” Effie’s soft voice broke into his reverie.

“Hmm? What?” he muttered, realizing he had been holding his breath. He breathed out slowly.

“Ivy, she looks bonny,” Effie repeated.

“She looks very pretty in that dress,” he managed to say in what he hoped was a normal voice, ignoring Magnus’s grin. “’Tis quite a change tae see her lookin’ like that instead of a lad.”

Effie chuckled. “I dinnae think she likes dressin’ as a lad. Rather, the circumstances she’s found herself in have called fer it. I can tell ye, she was as excited as any young lass when she was decidin’ what tae wear fer the cèilidh. I get the impression from what she’s told me that she didnae have the happiest life back with her braither. She seems tae have missed out on quite a lot of things that most young ladies take fer granted. Enjoyin’ hersel’, fer instance.”

That attracted Liam’s attention, and he dragged his eyes from Ivy to look at Effie. At the same time, he was aware of the dance beginning to wind down. He drank his ale to the dregs. “Aye, the man’s a pig. He has nay idea of how tae treat his sister properly,” he told her, finding himself getting angry with MacAlister again.

Realizing he needed a few minutes to compose himself after the shock of seeing Ivy, he decided to replenish his ale. “Excuse me, Effie, Magnus, I’m just gonnae fetch mesel’ another drink. Can I get ye anythin’ while I’m there?” he asked for politeness’ sake.

“Nay, lad, I’m all right,” she told him, holding up a half-full goblet of wine. “Magnus is keepin’ me topped up,” she added with a giggle.

“Excuse me, then.” He went over to the table, filled his tankard, and swallowed another quick dram while he was at it. Usually, he would not drink so much so quickly, but after seeing Ivy looking so stunning in that crimson dress, he felt more nervous than ever about coming face to face with her.

He truly wanted to have a good time along with everyone else, just as Ivy had told Effie she did. The ale and the whisky were helping to smooth away that niggling anxiety. While he was at the table, he fell into conversation with some of the military men he had been working with on the training of Knox’s army. However, the whole time, his eyes were on Ivy and Knox.

As soon as the dance ended and another was announced, he excused himself and walked casually over to a point where he would intercept the couple. He had decided it was time for Ivy to dance with him.

“Fer the sake of the Wee Man, Ivy, will ye stop sayin’ melaird? Me name’s Knox, and I’d be obliged if ye’d use it,” Laird Stewart puffed as he and Ivy linked

arms and skipped to the left in a half circle and switched arms and went back the other way to the fast beat of the music. “Just dinnae wear it out,” he added with a cheeky wink.

As they repeated the maneuver, Ivy threw her head back and laughed gaily. She felt almost lightheaded from the excitement and exertion of the dance. “If that’s what ye wish, melaird,” she replied teasingly.

While she was enjoying herself immensely, a part of her was aware that Knox found her attractive by the way he looked and spoke to her. He was certainly a handsome, well-set up fellow, with his dark, good-looks and kind, easy-going nature. Any woman would think him braw, she knew. Laird Stewart was a catch, no doubt about it.

Yet she could not help noticing that, for some bizarre reason, his compliments never made her blush the way just one glance from Liam could. His hand on her waist did not feel like it was burning her skin, as it did when Liam touched her. And when she looked into his bright, laughing eyes, which were fit to beguile any red-blooded lady, she did not tremble or go weak at the knees, as almost always happened with Liam.

Knox only made her relax and laugh and feel merry, as she might with any friend. And despite all the time they had spent together, that seldom happened with Liam. There was always something hovering in the air between them, a tension, like a coiled spring waiting to be released.

This was perplexing enough. Moreover, she had to admit to herself that while she was throwing herself into dancing with Knox, her mind was actually on Liam. Without even noticing she was doing it, her eyes continually searched for him among the crowd of guests, but in vain.

It was only when the dance was over, and Knox was escorting her back to the rest of their group that she saw him. As soon as she laid eyes upon him, a jolt ran through her entire body from head to toe, leaving her feeling weak. He seemed just as much at ease in his half kilt, snowy linen shirt, with its ruffled jabot at his throat, and tight-fitting jacket of light blue as he did in his everyday leather trews and buff jerkin.

Ivy could not prevent her eyes from wandering all over him, for the outfit showed off his athletic, muscular build and hard, masculine beauty to perfection. With his long dark hair falling over his shoulders, he was stunning, as proud and powerful and beautiful as the stag.

When their eyes met, a wave of heat washed over her entire body, making her cheeks flame, leaving her in no doubt they must be as crimson as her dress. When Knox made a bee-line for him, pulling her along and exclaiming, “Ah, there’s the man I’ve been waitin’ tae see!”, Ivy had the odd feeling Liam had been waiting for her. The very idea stirred something deep within her and set her trembling afresh.

“A good evenin’ tae ye, Mr. Tavish, so ye decided tae show yer face after all, eh?” Knox greeted him jovially, clapping him on the arm, his other still linked with Ivy’s, keeping her at his side. She really would have liked him to release her, for she thought she saw something flicker in Liam’s dark eyes that resembled displeasure. But it was gone as soon as she noticed it, so she put it down to her imagination or the candlelight.

“I’m nae so late, Knox, ye just started early, ’tis all,” Liam replied with a smile that made Ivy’s heart skip a beat.

“Well, I’m nae complainin’, it’s given me the chance tae have Ivy all tae mesel’ fer a while,” the laird told him with obvious glee, which Ivy found a little puzzling. Still clamped to Knox’s side, she stood listening to them talk for several minutes and had the distinct feeling some form of male communication was going on she was not privy to. She passed the time covertly admiring Liam from beneath her lowered eyelids.

All around them, people were rushing to fill the dance floor before the new tune began in earnest. Suddenly, just as she was running her gaze up and down Liam’s long legs and wondering what he had on under his kilt, a woman came up to join them.

She was tall and blonde and beautiful, with big green eyes, a tiny waist, and an impressive bosom. Her gown was clearly expensive, a lilac satin cut so low at the bust one might have thought that with the slightest encouragement, her plump breasts would have burst out of it.

“Knox! There ye are! I’ve been lookin’ fer ye. Sorry we’re a wee bit late, but faither had some business tae attend tae, and we couldnae leave until he’d finished,” she cried excitedly, her face attractively flushed.

To Ivy’s relief, Knox immediately released her arm and stepped forward to meet the glamorous newcomer. “Why, Helena, ’tis grand tae see ye, lassie,” Knox cried, clearly delighted. The pair exchanged enthusiastic kisses in greeting like old friends. “Ye’ve arrived at just the right time. I was lookin’ fer a new dancin’ partner. Will ye dae me the honor?”

“Aye, I will, but in a wee while if ye dinnae mind. I need a drink. I have a thirst on me like the very devil,” Helen replied, flashing her large green eyes at him.

“Then by God, I’ll join ye,” Knox replied, offering her his arm gallantly.

But she did not take it. Instead, she looked up at Liam with frank appreciation from beneath a pair of long, fluttering eyelashes. “But wait a moment, Knox, dinnae be so hasty. We cannae just rush off before ye introduce me tae yer big, braw friend here. He’s new.” She smiled toothsomely at Liam. He smiled back, and Ivy felt the stirrings of jealousy in her chest.

“Och, aye, me apologies,” Knox said. “This gentleman here is me new military advisor, Liam MacTavish. Liam, meet Lady Helen MacDuff, the daughter of Laird Donnal MacDuff of Glenmarion.”

Ivy could only stand and watch, a false smile pasted on her lips, as Liam performed a perfect bow and kissed Lady Helen’s hand. “A pleasure tae meet ye, Lady Helen,” he said smoothly, flashing the lady another of his brilliant smiles.

“Well, how d’ye dae, Mr. MacTavish, the pleasure is all mine, I assure ye,” the beauty replied flirtatiously. She looked at him as if she wanted to eat him. Which nay doubt she would , Ivy thought jealously, and judging by the way he’s looking at her, the feelin’s mutual!

“Please, Lady Helen, dinnae stand on ceremony. Call me by me first name,” Liam told her.

Ye Gods, he’s flirting with her!

“Och, if ye insist, Liam, then I will.”

To Ivy’s surprise, Lady Helen turned her attention to her. “And is this yer wife, Liam?” she asked with a studied politeness that bordered on rude.

“Nay, I have nay wife,” Liam answered.

Ivy decided to interrupt. “I’m Lady Ivy MacAlister, Lady Helen. I’m pleased tae make yer acquaintance.”

Lady Helen nodded. “Likewise, I’m sure,” she said, and then turned immediately back to Liam. She flicked him a coquettish glance and put her hand on his arm. “So, ye’re nae married, ye say, Liam? Does that mean I’m in with a chance then?” She burst out into trilling laughter, clearly pleased with her own boldness.

Liam and Knox laughed along with her, much to Ivy’s annoyance. She struggled to keep her smile in place. She found herself fighting down a strange impulse to smack the smug smile off Lady Helen’s face and see how she laughed then.

“Now, tell me, Liam,” the woman said silkily, leaning into Liam so that he got a bird’s eye view down the front of her considerable cleavage—Ivy saw him looking and Knox grinning—“how is it that such a braw lookin’ man as yersel’ hasnae been snapped up yet by some lucky lady?”

It was too much for Ivy. She feared if she stayed a moment longer, she would indeed strike the woman, even though she knew well she had no right to be so jealous and annoyed.

Ye have nay claim on Liam at all , she berated herself silently. He’s free tae dally with any woman he wishes. ’Tis really none of me business if he chooses tae spend the night with Lady Helena . However, the picture that conjured up in her mind was akin to being stabbed with needles.

But I’ll be damned if I let either of them see it!

“Please excuse me,” she piped up. “I’m rather thirsty, and I’d like tae rest me feet awhile. I’m goin’ tae get a drink if ye dinnae mind. Good evenin’ tae ye, Lady Helen.” Without waiting for a reply from any of them, she walked away in as stately a fashion as she could manage, for she would rather have picked up her skirts and run.