miles past the clearing,’ he said. ‘Into the hills and beyond. I gave him his head and he took it.’ Brodie laughed then and she noticed as many in the hall turned at the sound. ‘He tempted me to continue, but I did not want to overtire him with your journey home coming so soon.’
‘I have yet to tire him out,’ she admitted. ‘Most times I am the one to surrender.’ She laughed. ‘Even my brother, Malcolm, cannot, so I know my skills are not so shoddy.’
He remained at her side, both of them watching as people gathered in small groups before them, clearing the space so that dancing could begin.
‘Do you have any mares here he could be bred with?’ she asked. The horse had wonderful traits that could be passed on to his get. Brodie choked then and coughed to clear his throat.
‘Lady,’ he whispered. ‘’Tis unseemly a topic...’
She turned to face him, shaking her head and putting her cup down.
‘He is mine and will remain mine, sir,’ she said. ‘Even after my husband is given control over everything else I bring to this marriage, that horse is mine. Since you were interested in him, I thought offering him as stud would give you his offspring.’
Arabella knew her aunt and her father would be horrified, almost as much as Brodie was, to hear such words—or even the knowledge of such things—from her. She waited on his response.
He laughed.
Laughed. Raising his cup, he smiled and nodded to her.
‘Then I accept your gracious offer, my lady,’ he said. ‘And I know just the mare to choose for him.’
Watching his eyes change from surprised to curious and then to appreciation made her wonder if marrying a man like him would not be the terrible thing she’d thought it would be. Shocked that she could contemplate such a thing without the fear she’d felt for so long, she listened as he spoke on the topics Caelan never did—lands, farming, animals and more.
Now at a greater ease with him, Arabella wanted to ask him another question, one about the hand signals. Caelan’s arrival and interruption prevented that.
‘The music is starting, Arabella,’ he said. ‘I know my cousin cares not to dance, but that you favour it. So, may I?’ He held out his hand and waited for her to take it.
She did not. For the first time during her visit, her curiosity won over her need to be gracious. Smiling as always, she shook her head and did not take his hand.
‘My stomach is bit unsettled and I would like to wait before dancing,’ she said. ‘It must be the travelling and the excitement.’ When both cousins wore a similar frown at her words, she added, ‘Caelan, I am certain this will pass shortly and I will seek you out to accept your kind offer.’
‘Should I call your cousin or aunt?’ Brodie offered.
‘Nay. I just need to sit for a short time.’ She’d thought Caelan would be the one to offer such aid, so Brodie surprised her. Now, glancing at Caelan, she saw that he edged away from her and his usual pleasant expression had turned slightly grey.
‘Very well,’ he finally said. ‘I will wait over there.’ He pointed to a seat at the other end of the table. And then he walked to it quickly.
Such behaviour came as another surprise. She did not know what to say about it, but Brodie explained.
‘My cousin fears illness. He avoids being around those who are ailing or sick. He has since he was a child.’ A hint of amusement filled his words. He turned to her then, examining her face with that intense stare she’d seen before. ‘Truly, do you have need of assistance? One of your women? Our healer?’
Arabella could not resist a bit of mischief now, though he was being attentive and kind and, for once, not his irritating or insulting self. She looked up at him through lowered lashes and used her most feminine voice—the one that usually had any man she aimed it at doing her bidding.
‘There is something you could do,’ she whispered to him. Dropping her hand between them where no one else would see, she shaped her fingers into one of the gestures she’d witnessed. ‘You could tell me what this means?’
His gaze followed hers down to her hand and then came back up to stare at her. Then down once more as though he did not believe what he saw there.
‘I have my suspicions, but thought I would ask you since I saw you do it earlier.’ His gaze narrowed for a moment and then something that resembled respect filled it.
‘Do you think yourself clever, Lady Arabella?’
He reached down and eased her fingers out of the gesture. His hand was warm and strong and almost twice the size of hers, yet he did not use that size and strength against her. A shiver shook her at the thought of such a thing.
‘You are ill,’ he said, releasing her hand and turning to call someone. She grabbed his hand to stop him.
‘I am not ill. I only wished to ask you about those gestures. What are you signalling to the others?’ she asked.
‘Others?’ he asked in a rough tone. ‘What others?’
He would not tell her. She had witnessed something he did not wish her to see. His reaction told her the truth—they were messages or words about her. Mayhap more insults about her between him and his friends? The thought of that burned her. Knowing only one way out of this situation, she lifted her face and smiled at him.
‘Forgive me, sir, if I have overstepped the bounds of hospitality. I think my stomach has calmed now. I will seek out your...’ She began to rise, but he took hold of her hand and held her there. ‘Sir?’
‘Brodie is my name,’ he whispered harshly. ‘And do not do that.’ She did not force her way to her feet but remained seated there at his side. With her hand trapped within his.
‘Do not do what, sir?’ she demanded in a whisper that matched his. All the while, the smile remained in place. If anyone glanced at them, nothing would look amiss.
‘Smile like that.’
‘I do not understand. I am simply smiling,’ she said through her teeth.
‘Smiling like a simpleton, aye.’ He yet held her hand in a firm grasp, one at odds with the anger she felt in him. She let her face relax and nodded her understanding. ‘Better.
‘I can only say this. Aye, you did see...what you saw. I am in charge of the guards. My uncle wanted them to keep watch discreetly. We use the signals rather than...’ His grip eased but she did not pull away.
Not even when she felt his thumb begin to stroke her palm and wrist.
Not when heat crept through her veins and across her skin.
Not even when her words jumbled and she could not remember the question she wanted to ask him next.
‘I doubt that anyone else, other than possibly your father, noticed them. Yet you did.’ His eyes darkened then, changing from the deep brown they usually were to something closer to black. ‘I would ask that you not share what you have seen.’
If
