and walked away defeated. She could scarcely bear to watch in case Ian also failed, yet could not look away.
The music’s tempo increased. Another man dropped out. And another, until only two of the older Gilvry brothers remained.
Ian and Niall. Of Andrew there was no sign. Ian leapt without effort, his feet so close to the blades he barely moved from the centre of the cross. What held her transfixed was his intensity, the hot blood of battle expressed in the position of his arms, the proud angle of his head and the fire in his defiant eyes.
Impossible as it seemed, she felt their eyes lock and in that moment, it was as if he danced only for her.
Nay, not for her, she realised. At her, rejecting all she stood for. War declared. The final leaps caused an indrawn breath from the assembled company. Yet they landed lightly, clear of the swords, each man holding position until the last note died away.
The connection snapped.
In unison the two men bowed and stood stiffly, waiting for their chief’s judgement while their audience applauded and cheered.
Even Chrissie and Father leaped to their feet, clapping.
Selina had no doubt Ian would win. Yet she still felt anxious until his chieftain beckoned him forwards. He ran lightly up the terrace steps, shook the Carrick’s hand and took the purse presented with an incline of his head. He did not once glance her way.
There had been no connection between them. He probably couldn’t see her on the terrace in the dark. It had all been her imagination. It wasn’t the first time she’d been mistaken in his interest. The only connection they had was one of mutual dislike.
Deep inside she felt a twinge of sadness. Perhaps because whoever he had danced for, he had expressed himself through movement—a freedom and grace she could never accomplish.
The two men spoke a few words, then Ian ran back down the steps and walked away. Only when he was out of sight did the sorrow inside her lessen.
She thought she had resigned herself to the future she’d charted, but for some reason, now she felt thoroughly unsettled. She rose to her feet with a slight wince.
‘Is your leg paining you?’ Chrissies asked.
Dash it all, the woman watched her like a hawk. ‘I am just a little stiff from sitting, that is all.’ And from the tension of watching Ian.
Chapter Two
Ian joined his clansmen clustered around the piper in the shadows of the gate leading out of the courtyard to the kitchens. His breathing had slowed, but his blood still ran hot—battle fever aroused by the music. There had been a time when he danced for the pure joy of it. Now he felt like little more than a performing bear on a chain performing for these Sassenachs. He swallowed the anger. It had pleased Carrick and the coin would bring much-needed relief to his people. Lord Carrick could easily have spent his money on entertainment elsewhere.
He emptied the prize purse into his palm, first paying the piper his due, then dividing the spoils equally. ‘Well done, lads.’
‘What is that?’ Logan, his youngest brother, asked, gesturing to the other pouch Carrick had slipped into Ian’s palm.
‘You’ve sharp eyes, young Logan,’ Ian grumbled. ‘Carrick wants us to make another run to France.’
‘I thought we had all the salt we need,’ Niall said, glancing up from the pamphlet he’d been reading by the light of the torch.
‘He wants brandy,’ Ian said. ‘He will have used up most of his supply by the end of this ball.’
‘Brandy is asking for trouble,’ Niall said. ‘It is bad enough running the whisky over the border to England.
Ian quelled him with a glance. ‘How could I refuse after all he has done for us? Besides, his money will help pay for this autumn’s barley.’
Niall shook his head. ‘Admit it, you like the danger.’
Did he? Long ago, he’d wanted to be a soldier, but when his father died, he’d shouldered the duties of Laird without a second thought. It was his responsibility.
Straying from that duty had never resulted in anything but trouble, for him or his family. And smuggling was a necessary evil. Part of the job, if he wanted the clan to survive. And he did, desperately. It was all he thought of, day and night.
‘What say we go down to the tavern and celebrate?’ Tammy McNab said, jingling the coin in his hand.
Ian jabbed at Tammy’s shoulder. ‘Would you spend your money on drink when your babes are hungry?’
A red-haired man of twenty-five who already had three children to his name, Tammy hung his head. ‘Just thought to have a wee bit of fun.’
‘Why pay for it, when Carrick has food and drink for you all in the servants’ hall?’ Ian said.
Tammy cheered instantly. ‘You’ll be coming too, Laird?’
Ian shook his head. ‘I’ve a ship’s captain to meet now I have this new errand. Enjoy yourself on Lord Carrick’s coin. You’ve earned it.’
The men moved off towards the servants’ entrance in the low-slung thatched buildings abutting the castle. Ian turned to leave by the drawbridge. Logan caught his shoulder. ‘Did you see who was watching? The Albrights. I’d recognise Lady Selina anywhere.’
Because she was just so damned lovely. Even lovelier as a woman than she had been as a child of sixteen. And just as much trouble as she had been then, too.
‘I met her inside.’ He curled his lip. ‘I asked her to dance as Carrick ordered. She refused me.’ He hadn’t known whether to be glad or insulted.
During the sword dance, he had felt the intensity of her gaze. Had lost himself in her beauty in the final bars, drawing strength from her shining eyes and parted lips. He’d gone back in time, dancing for the girl who had roamed freely among the heather that long-ago summer. He’d been enchanted by her pretty face and spirit, until he came to his senses and remembered just whose daughter she was.
Something he’d do well to remember now, too. Selina Albright had caused his family nothing but trouble. And he, like a fool, had helped.
‘I’m no surprised she wouldna dance with you, Ian.’
He stiffened. ‘Aye. Albrights have always been a touch above the Gilvry clan.’
‘She might think so, but I doubt she can dance, not with that limp.’
Stunned by a sudden stab of dismay, Ian whipped his head around. His eyes narrowed as he watched the progress of the dark beauty in the white gown as she crossed the terrace on her father’s arm, the hesitation in her step cruelly obvious in the torchlight.
She had refused him for a reason different from the one he’d assumed. He felt an odd surge of relief.
He turned and pushed Logan after the others. He called Niall back and lowered his voice. ‘Keep an eye on young Logan. He’s developing
