Chapter Eleven

Laughter bubbled into the rafters of the great hall as two-year-old Richard turned in a circle with Callum's daughter, Elizabeth. The two children were adorable. They didn't need the velvets and silks of court dress to be beautiful, only the whimsy of youth. Tessa clapped her encouragement, because there was nothing else one could do to train two-year-olds who couldn't yet follow directions.

She turned to the older girls, some of Beck and Eliza's wards and Anna's sisters. "We will start with couples standing together in a line." She took Eagan's hand. It was warm and dry and strong. The pressure of it against her palm made heat kindle within her. "Each couple should hold hands, facing one another."

Eagan tried to catch her gaze, but Tessa couldn't lose her concentration with everyone gathering and watching her. They hadn't talked since they'd left Grissell's that morning. She knew he had questions, could almost feel them leaking from him every time he looked at her. But they would have to wait.

Tessa released Eagan's hands and crouched before the youngest children. "On the morrow, I will teach you a game called bilboquet. I'll need to fashion a cup with a small ball attached by a string."

"I can help you make it," Dora said, her dramatic freckles giving her a beautifully natural look. She'd paired up with her sister, Aggie.

"I used to play bilboquet for hours when I was a child," Tessa said, remembering how she'd walk the grounds of Versailles, waiting for her mother to emerge, swinging the ball at the end of the thick string.

The two musicians, called in by Eagan's oldest brother, played a light tune. Tessa spoke with them about the cadence for the first dance she would teach. She hurried to stand opposite the line of adult and older children dancers and waved Eagan to join her. "Two steps left," she called, taking Eagan's hands so they could follow her instructions as an example. The line of dancers moved. "Two steps right. Now forward three, release hands, and circle around to a count of six."

Varying degrees of grace brought laughter and good-natured teasing. Beck knocked Drostan almost off his feet when he spun without care. Anna was quite the dancer and kept close to Callum, who swung her around. They whispered together as if sharing sweet memories of another dance they might have shared.

"Often the steps are similar to the Galliard," Tessa said and released Eagan's hand to demonstrate. Pointing her toes, she gave little hops, fluttering her feet back and forth. It reminded her of a fledgling bird trying to get off the ground. When her mother first taught her the steps, Tessa flapped her arms, too, trying to gain height, making her mother burst into fits of laughter. Tessa had joined her with giggles. Everything about her mother had been joyful and fun. Until she'd been killed, her swanlike white neck stained red with blood.

Tessa pushed the nightmare from her mind, her practiced smile unwavering. She startled slightly as Eagan took her elbow.

"Are ye well?" he asked, his mouth dipped toward her ear.

Her face turned to him, her smile in place. "Do I look unwell?"

"Not to the room," he said, nodding to the laughing dancers, all trying to flick their feet with steps in time with the musical beat.

"But to you I look unwell?" she asked. Only her mother had ever cared enough to read behind her mask.

He raised his hand toward a curl that she'd left down to lie tantalizingly against the creaminess of her skin above the edge of her bodice. But then he lowered it before he touched her. Her skin still tingled as if he'd stroked the sensitive area, and she almost reached for his hand, forgetting the watchful room.

"For a moment, yer eyes looked…haunted," he said.

The word was accurate. Her smile softened into a true one. "My mother loved to dance and laughed when doing so."

"And she has died," he said, nodding.

Rebecca Ainsworth hadn't just died. Rebecca Ainsworth had been murdered, her laughter and joy stolen away from Tessa.

"Was she ill?" Eagan asked.

"Pardon," Lark said, coming closer with several of the sisters. "I've heard there's a new dance sweeping Europe."

"Something rather scandalous," Eliza said. "'Tis called La Volta."

"Do you know it?" Dora asked.

Tessa's full smile returned. It was practiced but had bits of authenticity to it. At least she thought it did. She'd played the part of entertainer for the court her entire life, making it impossible at times to know where the fun-loving woman ended and the real Tessa began, if there even was a real Tessa.

"Oui," she said with a nod. "Yes, 'tis a dance where the man lifts and turns the woman, his hands on her waist and his knee riding up under her backside to help lift her."

None of them seemed shocked. Some rose upon their toes as if ready to leap all on their own. Lark clasped her hands and looked about for her stoic husband, Adam. Eliza traipsed off to snag Beck, dragging him over, her petticoats kicking out with her steps as if she hated the cumbersome ensemble. Anna and Lia found their husbands, and Tessa looked at Eagan. "We can show them and then you can dance with your nieces."

"I don't know the dance," he said but let her lead him out into the circle of onlookers.

"Trust me," she said and laughed when he looked doubtful. "Go on, take my arm and listen to my instructions."

The couples waited, watching closely. Even the two-year-olds looked on, holding hands as if not to be left out of the fun.

"The dance starts with a Galliard led in a circle." Tessa tugged on Eagan's arm, and the musicians provided a jaunty tune to match the step, accenting the three counts. "One, two, three," she called as Eagan led her around. She had danced with many men at King Francis's court, some clumsy, some stiff, some taking the lead role with dictatorial vengeance.

Tessa was delightedly surprised. "You dance lightly despite your broad frame," she said as they turned.

"We train for war, and war is just a dance with weapons."

The thought percolated through Tessa. She tipped her head slightly and smiled. "That is true. I fought a war at court, and often dancing saved me." She thought of the roguish looks from the men who watched her from the shadows of the grand ballrooms. How she would smile and glide, and then when the moment was right, disappear to hide away for the night when those with muscle or power stalked the halls?

Eagan's hand gripped her a little tighter, his jawline tense. "I've heard court is a dangerous place for a lass."

She turned her face, meeting his gaze. "The world is a dangerous place for a lass."

After a beat, she turned back to the dancers. "Now watch. Eagan, place your hand behind my back and as we turn, lift me using your knee…" She lifted her knee to show it bent. "Lift under my backside to help. Ladies, throw your legs out slightly, or wide if you wish it, then slide the feet together as you touch down again."

Eagan's arm went around her back, holding her parallel to him. "There should be a space between the dancers," she said. "Now turn and lift."

Eagan turned her, lifting her easily. "Good," she said, "but use your knee to lift under me."

"I don't need to."

"We have more muscle than French courtiers," Callum said and swooped Anna up into his arms, tossing her as she let out an unladylike curse.

"'Tis part of the dance," Lark said, looking at Adam. "Lift with your knee, too."

"Try again," Tessa said to Eagan.

He turned her in a circle, and she felt his knee rise under her. The power in the lift boosted her so high she felt like she might fly. She yelped. "Too high," she yelled when she felt herself lift from his arms into the air. He caught her easily and twirled her around. Tessa couldn't help but laugh. "Not so high!"

But it was too late. All the Macquarie brothers were tossing their wives high in the air and catching them as they turned, ending with the Galliard point and hop in their boots. Laughter was punctuated with squeals and gasps as they did it again on another turn.

"Me! Me!" Richard and Elizabeth ran up to their fathers for their turns to be tossed.

"How did we do?" Eagan asked, grinning broadly.

She turned to him. "Perfect."

Tessa glanced at the far corner where Ida sat next to the older of the two wolfhounds that roamed about the castle. Her toe tapped even though her face sat in a frown. Perhaps it was how her face rested. The woman had been heartbroken decades ago and had never healed.

Tessa squeezed Eagan's hand. "Ask your aunt to dance."

"La Volta?"

"Or the Galliard or just turn her in a circle."

"She will say nay."

"Ask anyway."

He bowed politely to Tessa and walked over to Ida. Tessa's heart thumped faster when the woman stood. The boy she'd raised for her dear sister wanted to dance with her. It was good.

I loved once, and he married my sister.

Ida had confided in Tessa that she'd loved John Macquarie. She and Hilda had come over to Wolf Isle for Ida, the older of the two sisters, to marry him. But one look at Hilda, and John had asked Ida to break the betrothal so he could marry her sister.

At first, she'd refused, but watching the two of them together became torture. Ida thought of sending Hilda back to Clan Gunn, but their parents had died and no one was left to take her in. It was an impossible situation.

Tessa had watched women at court falling, day by day, further into bitterness like a bird caught in a bog. 'Twas like a cold grip on their happiness, leading to a slow decline toward misery and death. And the same had happened to Ida. Even after her sister died in childbirth, John could not bring himself to marry her, rejecting her all over again.

The woman walked on Eagan's arm across the hall. "Don't throw me about," Ida said. "I'll have none of that foolishness."

"I promise not to toss ye," Eagan said.

Ida nodded to Tessa as she walked past. Tessa followed and called out, "Everyone, choose a partner and stand next to them around me, in a circle."

"Don't delay," Ida said, her words coming out strong as she eyed the Macquarie brothers. 'Twas obvious she still saw them as rambunctious lads.

"Despite the strength you all have," Tessa said to the once again quieter room, "do not toss the ladies in the air when dancing in public. Just a gentle carry across the floor for the leap, please. Let's try again." She looked at Ida but spoke loudly as if to the room. "If you don't wish to leave the ground at all, tell your partner, and he will continue to turn you with the Galliard flutter step."

Ida said something to Eagan, and he grinned, nodding. As they turned with the others, he lifted her gently, setting her back on the ground like a bag of delicate cups. "Beautiful," Tessa called. "Everyone, watch how Eagan raises and lowers his graceful aunt." They turned again, and Eagan gently lifted and set Ida down. The woman had grace when she relaxed the stiffness in her shoulders.

Hands clapped, and color came to Ida's cheeks. She laughed, a little breathless. "'Tis like dancing in my youth, although we never danced anything so scandalous."

The elderly man named Rabbie stood apart drinking a tankard of ale. "Times have changed." His gaze remained on the older woman, and he shook his head once, turning to pick up a tart that had been left on a platter. But Tessa noticed him watching Ida as Adam took her hand to partner him in a line dance where men and women stood opposite each other, weaving in and out.

"Will ye dance with me again?" Eagan asked, coming up to Tessa.

"She has been lonely," she whispered. "Ask her again to remain here, either in Gylin or the village close by."

He followed her gaze to his aunt. "I'll talk to Adam. We've asked her before, but this is the first time she's visited since she came to whisk us all back to Mull."

"Times have changed," she said, repeating Rabbie's sage words. "Maybe with the threat of Walter Gleeb's witch hunt, she'll let her family protect her."

Eagan led Tessa over to join the dance, which the family seemed to know, adding their own flourishes as each couple turned and strutted down the center. Even Ida made a simple turn in the middle, and a smile softened the tightness of her lips.

When the dance ended, Richard toddled up to Ida and took her hand, leading her over to the wolfhound by the fire as if introducing her to the beast.

"We've had no chance to be alone today," Eagan said. He stood next to her, away from his brothers still dancing with their wives and children. He stared out with her. There was an undercurrent of want in his words. It called to her desire she'd set aside through the ups and downs of rescuing Ida and helping her clean up and deftly pulling out her poisonous secrets over an hour.

"'Tis been a long day," she said, glancing at him. Eagan stood strong, his muscles full beneath the cloth of his tunic. She wanted to clutch those hard biceps again, not as a partner in dance but as his lover thrashing with pleasure. He must feel the same.

"Aye," he murmured. "Ye must want to find sleep." He tried to hide the note of disappointment in his tone but failed.

A mischievous smile curled her lips as she looked out at the firelit hall where his family created an intimate tableau of humble celebration. She didn't bother to lower her voice since the music lifted into the rafters and the dancers' feet tapped while they laughed.

"I doubt I'd be able to sleep right now," she said. "Not with this ache in the crux of my legs and the heat coursing in my blood."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him swallow, the masculine knot in his throat rising and falling, and he breathed in fully through his nose. It brought to mind a bull smelling the air for a mate. Could he smell her desire? She shifted, her legs squeezing together, but she knew the throbbing would not dissipate easily.

"If you can't get away from your family to walk me back to my cottage," she said, "I will pleasure myself."

Eagan's gaze dropped to her. "Pleasure yerself?"

She cocked her head. "Have you never brought yourself to pleasure on your own?"

"I…" His lips remained parted for a moment. "I have…done…that."

"Bien," she said and looked directly into his eyes. Flames of desire raged in Eagan's intense stare. "I could touch myself until I rid myself of this hot ache, but I'd prefer your company."

His lips opened on an exhale, and his mouth quirked up at the corner. "Ye want me to get rid of yer hot ache?" The rumble of words in his deep voice teased the line within her that was already taut, plucking it to send vibrations up through her pelvis.

"Oui," she said, and her voice softened so he must lean in to hear her. "I want your hot mouth on me. And…" She clamped her legs together as if to keep the lid on Pandora's box. "I want to hold you in my mouth."

His teeth clenched for a moment. "I would taste ye, too, Tessa." He leaned into her ear so that she could feel the heat of his breath. "Until ye flood with yer own honey, and I ram my cock up into yer thrashing body, impaling ye to me while ye explode, milking me until I join ye."

Her eyes widened at the scandalous words. Mon Dieu , the man had talent. Tessa had been taught by her dry tutor how to say things that tantalized men, but Eagan's words shot through her with much more intensity, opening all her floodgates. Her mouth went slack, loose as if already salivating for him. "I think I'm already flooding," she said, his face close enough to hers that she could lean forward into his lips.

Her logical mind wondered how things had turned so quickly out of her control. But the rest of her didn't give a whit about the play of power she'd been taught to parry. Before her mind could swim its way out of the fever Eagan had lit in her, he was leading her toward the door.

"Are you leaving already?" Lark asked as he passed.

"Don't follow," he managed to say, and Tessa hurried along next to him.

The cool evening air brushed Tessa's cheeks, but it did nothing to cool the lava invading every inch of her body.

"I'll take ye back to yer cottage," Eagan said, his words almost angry, but Tessa knew it was the rumbling of need.

"Eventually," she said, tugging his hand toward the side of the castle within the wall, back where even the moon couldn't follow them.