Page 47 of The Last Debutante
Such thoughts were even more disturbing than his desire to dance.
“All right then, with the music. We’ll need a partner for you, Geordie,” she said, and smiled at the footman. “Would you be so kind as to bring a willing female? Oh, bother, you might be searching all night for a willing one. Any female will do.” She sat down at the pianoforte and began to play before anyone could question her, or stop her from bringing in the entire clan. She called out instructions as she played, and after a few false starts, Robbie and Aileen began to move in synchrony. “Splendid!” Daria called from the pianoforte. “Onetwo three,onetwo three!”
Aileen, Jamie was surprised to see, was beaming up at her husband. Jamie had not seen her smile quite like that in an age, and he was reminded that he’d once considered her a bonny lass. The footman ushered a maid in, and Geordie grinned at her, took her by the wrist and the waist, and began to dance. The girl protested that she did not know what he was about, but in a few moments she was dancing, her focus intent on her feet.
There was something different in that small parlor that perplexed Jamie. It was vague, intangible, but he couldfeelit. He couldn’t name it until he heard the maid laugh, then it suddenly struck him. Since the night Geordie had called Cormag out, there had been no laughter at Dundavie. Not until tonight. Not until an English rose taught them to dance.
They danced until Hamish stood up and clasped his hands behind his back and attempted to dance a jig to the unfamiliar music. But his age and his infirmity had left him without any natural rhythm, and he was soon knocking into the other dancers.
Everyone stopped dancing the waltz to give Hamish a wide berth. Daria seemed uncertain of what to do and stopped playing.
“Cluich!”Hamish shouted at her, telling her to play on.
“Uncle, it’s time we all retired, aye?” Robbie said, putting his hand on his uncle’s shoulder.
But Hamish clearly had other ideas and shrugged Robbie off. “Cluich,Laurna!” When Daria did not respond, Hamish lunged for the pianoforte.
Geordie stopped him, gently pushing him back.
“Take him,” Jamie said, gaining his feet. This was another once unheard of but increasingly familiar side of his uncle—the quick temper, the rash actions.
Geordie linked his arm with Hamish’s, urging him to come along and gently pulling him to the door.
Hamish looked confused, staring up at Geordie as if he weren’t certain who he was. “Has Laurna finished, then?”
“Aye, she has,” Robbie said, and held out his hand for Aileen. He glanced at Jamie, gave him a nod.“Oidhche mhath.”
“Good night, lads,” Jamie said. “Aileen.” He handed Geordie’s slate to Aileen.
When they had gone, Jamie looked at Daria. She had stood up from the pianoforte, her expression full of sympathy for the old man. Jamie started toward her, but his leg had stiffened and he limped more than he had all day. When he reached the pianoforte, he eased himself down onto the bench.
She slowly sat beside him. “What happened to Hamish?”
Jamie wished he understood precisely what had happened to his uncle. “I donna know,” he said with a slight shake of his head. “It began a few years ago and has grown worse.” He touched a few keys, playing a song from a distant memory of his childhood when he’d been forced by his mother to engage in music lessons.“It will make you a proper gentleman, Jamie,”she had said.
Daria smiled with delight. “You play!”
“I do no’,” he said with an easy smile. “I remember a few things from my music lessons, but I donna play. You, on the other hand, play very well, lass. Thank you for indulging us, aye?”
“Should I take from that you were suitably entertained?” she asked, and playfully nudged him with her shoulder as she began to play lightly, her fingers scarcely touching the keys at all.
“Aye, that I was.” He’d been entertained in a way he could not describe. He was softening, he knew it. He did not care to be soft; scarcely anything annoyed him more than giving in to a woman’s smile. “When I was a boy,” he said, turning his attention away from the curve of her neck, “Hamish was considered the family historian. He would regale the entire clan with tales of heroic Campbell ancestors.” He smiled at the memory. “He would act out the more gruesome parts of our history with long swords and descriptions of bloody body parts for the boys, myself included. Now, he canna recall his full name most days.”
Daria nodded and played another couple bars. “May I ask you something? Why is Geordie so angry? He may have told me his grievances against me, but alas, his spelling is so very atrocious, I can’t understand it.”
Jamie couldn’t help but laugh. “Aye, in English as well as Gaelic. My brother was never one for the classroom. He wanted to be a soldier, a slayer of man and beast. He is a smart man, a good man, aye? Yet I never knew how poor his writing was until he became mute.”
“Until?” Her hands paused gracefully on the keys. “He’s not always been mute?”
Jamie shook his head. “It’s a recent injury. In the course of a meal that was intended to bring the Brodies and the Campbells together, no’ drive them apart as they’ve been for two hundred years, Geordie acted rashly. He called another man out,” he said to Daria’s questioning look. “In the Highlands, there’s no’ much that can stop two men who want a go at each other, aye? And, as these things generally go when two clans are involved, there is no’ much that will stop brothers and cousins and sons and fathers and uncles from joining the fray.”
“Oh,” she said, nodding.
“And,” Jamie added with a sigh, “as these things go for brash, hotheaded young men, Geordie was so badly wounded in the melee that he was made mute.”
“How tragic!”
“Aye. Whether or not his voice will return remains to be seen,” he said. “But at present, a man who once made better use of his tongue than his hands is now reduced to a slate and a wee bit of chalk. That’s what angers him.”
