Enraptured by Candace Camp Page A

Roses.”
    â€œOch, the Munros hae ayeways been choosy.” Angus shook his head.
    â€œColl seems very fond of Mrs. Kensington,” Violet ventured, glancing over at Isobel. She was a beautiful woman, blond and tall and slender as a sylph. Just the opposite of Violet herself.
    â€œOh, aye, he’s nigh as much a brother to her as he is to Meg,” Sally said.
    Violet was not as certain that Coll’s feelings for Isobel Kensington were those of a brother. She watched Isobel as she smiled and nodded to a departing guest, then turned back to her husband. Jack bent his head toward his wife’s, his eyes as soft on her as a caress. Isobel gazed back up at him, smiling, and though they did not touch, intimacy and love radiated from them with such clarity that it took Violet’s breath away.
    What must it be like to love like that and be loved inreturn? To feel the closeness, the warmth, the magical exclusion of all else in the world? A pang pierced Violet’s chest. She herself would never know the feeling, the oneness; she had given up hope of that long ago. Yet for an aching instant she could not help but wish that she could know the sweet taste of love.
    Resolutely Violet turned away. She was certain now that Isobel did not love Coll beyond the sisterly affection Sally had described. But that did not mean he felt the same way about Isobel. Perhaps he loved her even though her heart was given to another.
    Violet’s gaze went to the dance floor, where it was easy to find Coll, taller than anyone else. She watched him, flushed and smiling, as he circled the floor, the lantern light catching the gold of his hair. He did not look like a man suffering from unrequited love.
    Violet realized suddenly that her companions had fallen silent, and she turned to find them watching her. “I—I beg your pardon. My mind had drifted.”
    â€œOch, no matter.” Sally waved it away. “ ’Tis a lively song they’re playing. What lass wouldn’t rather be out on the floor than talking to old folks?”
    â€œOh, no—I’m not going to dance.”
    â€œWhat? A lass who does not like to dance? I canna believe that.”
    â€œNo. I mean, I do not know these dances.”
    â€œThen you must learn! Coll!”
    Violet saw that the music had stopped and Coll was strolling back, thankfully without Dot Cromartie. “Oh, no, Sally, do not make Coll—”
    Beside Violet, Angus shook his head, saying with somesympathy, “Nae, you micht as weel try to stop the sea as Sally McEwan when she’s got the bit between her teeth.”
    â€œColl Munro, hae you no’ taught this girl our dances?” Sally clucked her tongue in disapproval.
    â€œDinna scold, Sally.” Coll grinned. “I promised I would show her tonight.”
    â€œYou just want to see me look foolish stumbling about among all these nimble-footed people,” Violet teased Coll, amazed by how fiercely she wanted to dance with him.
    â€œNever,” he denied, holding out his hand to her.
    â€œVery well, then. Teach me.” Violet took his hand.
    â€œHere you go, lass.” Angus pulled a flask from inside his jacket. “Take a wee sip; it’ll gie you courage.”
    Violet took a gulp from his flask. Her eyes began to water as her insides burst into flames. However fiery the drink Coll had coaxed her into taking earlier had been, it was the sweetest of wine compared to this. Indeed, she thought perhaps the old man had mistakenly filled his flask with kerosene.
    Angus beamed with pride. “Angus McKay’s whiskey cures all.”
    â€œI daresay.” It would, she thought, kill any number of pestilences.
    Coll leaned in, chuckling. “I dinna think to warn you: never take whiskey from Old Angus.”
    â€œMy mouth is numb.” Violet licked her lips. “And I think the top of my head is about to explode. I cannot possibly dance now.”
    Coll’s