come and meet my son from Scotland,
Chief of Clan MacLachlan, and his new wife.” Iain signaled him into the parlor
where they were introduced.
Isobell shivered. The man’s direct gaze seemed to
peer inside her. As if he kenned hidden secrets. And she had an awful one she
didn’t want anyone here to ken. Especially Archie.
Silly. How could Caitrina’s friend possibly ken what
she’d done? She shook off the odd feeling.
She pressed her lips together. Archie should be
told the truth. She hated the way the secret was eating at her insides. Maybe
he would forgive her, and they could go home together. Isobell sighed. Unlikely .
Caitrina glared at Munn who was playing with the
children on the floor. “Who brought the wee brownie?”
“I am afraid it is my fault. I dragged him along
with me.” Archibald laughed, something Isobell hadn’t heard since he became
chief. He almost sounded happy.
Caitrina’s face reddened, but a whisper from
Douglas seemed to calm her.
Isobell watched Archie interact with the others.
The men were all powerful in their own right, though Archie was the one that
made her heart flutter. She was almost disappointed when Mairi called them to
dinner and they were seated in the eating chamber. Unlike the arrangements in
the great hall at Castle Lachlan, where the family sat in a line along one side
of the head table on the dais, looking out at those seated at the lower tables,
everyone here sat around a large table, facing each other. Archie sat in the
chair next to her. She looked away. Anywhere so as not to look at him with
longing.
Iain stood and held up a glass of wine. “Thank you
to our family and friends for being here just in time for a Highland Christmas.
Congratulations to Archibald and Isobell on your nuptials. May you have many
years of bliss as have Mairi and I.”
“Here, here,” sounded round the table with a
clinking of glasses.
Isobell shifted uncomfortably, but smiled and
nodded at the well-wishers, as did Archie.
Iain sat and glanced at her in challenge. She
lowered her gaze not sure what to think.
During dinner Archie’s thigh kept brushing hers,
and she bit the inside of her lip to avoid reaching over and touching him.
Otherwise, dinner became a jovial affair of great food and good conversation,
ending with pastry and a hot drink called coffee.
Delectable food and drink—more reasons to remain
in this time. If only she could convince Archie to stay too. She rubbed moist
palms on her jeans. He would never forgive her. And he wasn’t staying.
“Can we make snow angels?” Scott hollered over
bantering voices.
“Yes, please,” Young Iain begged too.
Laurie urged the lads into jackets and the entire
family trudged out into the snowy garden. Patrick flicked a switch. Light
illuminated the area, making the snow sparkle. The lads fell onto their backs
in the snow, waving their arms and legs. The imprints left behind were the
images of angels. Laurie made a large one. Patrick’s even larger.
If a once powerful warrior could display a playful
side so could she. Isobell dropped onto her back to make an angel of her own.
To her utter surprise, Archie threw off his plaide and plopped beside
her in naught but his trews and leine . As they spread their arms
to make angel wings their fingers touched. Their gazes met. A thrill shot
through her.
Archie’s eyes flared. He must have felt it too.
She couldn’t let the moment pass without making
one last memory with him. Isobell squeezed his fingers. “Come with me. I ken a
special place.”
Archie grabbed his plaide and they slipped
away from the others frolicking in the snow. She guided him through the inn’s
garden, along the well-trodden woodland trail, through the meadow and into
Laurie’s garden and the privacy of the orchid room. Was doubtful the family or
guests would visit on this most special of nights—Christmas Eve.
“Why have you brought me here?” he asked.
“Why do you think?” She hoped her smile
Chief of Clan MacLachlan, and his new wife.” Iain signaled him into the parlor
where they were introduced.
Isobell shivered. The man’s direct gaze seemed to
peer inside her. As if he kenned hidden secrets. And she had an awful one she
didn’t want anyone here to ken. Especially Archie.
Silly. How could Caitrina’s friend possibly ken what
she’d done? She shook off the odd feeling.
She pressed her lips together. Archie should be
told the truth. She hated the way the secret was eating at her insides. Maybe
he would forgive her, and they could go home together. Isobell sighed. Unlikely .
Caitrina glared at Munn who was playing with the
children on the floor. “Who brought the wee brownie?”
“I am afraid it is my fault. I dragged him along
with me.” Archibald laughed, something Isobell hadn’t heard since he became
chief. He almost sounded happy.
Caitrina’s face reddened, but a whisper from
Douglas seemed to calm her.
Isobell watched Archie interact with the others.
The men were all powerful in their own right, though Archie was the one that
made her heart flutter. She was almost disappointed when Mairi called them to
dinner and they were seated in the eating chamber. Unlike the arrangements in
the great hall at Castle Lachlan, where the family sat in a line along one side
of the head table on the dais, looking out at those seated at the lower tables,
everyone here sat around a large table, facing each other. Archie sat in the
chair next to her. She looked away. Anywhere so as not to look at him with
longing.
Iain stood and held up a glass of wine. “Thank you
to our family and friends for being here just in time for a Highland Christmas.
Congratulations to Archibald and Isobell on your nuptials. May you have many
years of bliss as have Mairi and I.”
“Here, here,” sounded round the table with a
clinking of glasses.
Isobell shifted uncomfortably, but smiled and
nodded at the well-wishers, as did Archie.
Iain sat and glanced at her in challenge. She
lowered her gaze not sure what to think.
During dinner Archie’s thigh kept brushing hers,
and she bit the inside of her lip to avoid reaching over and touching him.
Otherwise, dinner became a jovial affair of great food and good conversation,
ending with pastry and a hot drink called coffee.
Delectable food and drink—more reasons to remain
in this time. If only she could convince Archie to stay too. She rubbed moist
palms on her jeans. He would never forgive her. And he wasn’t staying.
“Can we make snow angels?” Scott hollered over
bantering voices.
“Yes, please,” Young Iain begged too.
Laurie urged the lads into jackets and the entire
family trudged out into the snowy garden. Patrick flicked a switch. Light
illuminated the area, making the snow sparkle. The lads fell onto their backs
in the snow, waving their arms and legs. The imprints left behind were the
images of angels. Laurie made a large one. Patrick’s even larger.
If a once powerful warrior could display a playful
side so could she. Isobell dropped onto her back to make an angel of her own.
To her utter surprise, Archie threw off his plaide and plopped beside
her in naught but his trews and leine . As they spread their arms
to make angel wings their fingers touched. Their gazes met. A thrill shot
through her.
Archie’s eyes flared. He must have felt it too.
She couldn’t let the moment pass without making
one last memory with him. Isobell squeezed his fingers. “Come with me. I ken a
special place.”
Archie grabbed his plaide and they slipped
away from the others frolicking in the snow. She guided him through the inn’s
garden, along the well-trodden woodland trail, through the meadow and into
Laurie’s garden and the privacy of the orchid room. Was doubtful the family or
guests would visit on this most special of nights—Christmas Eve.
“Why have you brought me here?” he asked.
“Why do you think?” She hoped her smile
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