Page 72 of Trapped with the Vicious Highlander
“So, how was it?” Flora’s voice pierced through her thoughts, shaking her out of the reverie that staring at the dress had momentarily sucked her into.
“I’m sorry?”
“The dance with me braither. How was it?”
“Oh…” Ava trailed off as she felt heat crawl up her cheeks.
The dance.
For a brief moment, she could vividly see it in her mind’s eye. Her hands pinned against the wall. Brodrick kissing her passionately and grinding his manhood against her. The feel of his fingers inside her?—
“Ava!” Flora called again, jerking her out of the memory, thank heavens.
“Uh. Yes. The dance went quite well.”
Ava could feel Flora’s gaze on her. Has she caught on? Was she about to say something that would prove that?—
“’Tis just dinner, Ava. Nay one’s goin’ to kill ye at the table.”
“It’s just dinner,” Ava whispered to herself as she rose from her side of the bed and walked over to the dresser.
She took off her dress, and the maids began to put the new one on her.
She watched them work, transforming one minute after the other into a breathtaking woman. The dress brought out the green flecks in her eyes. She loved it, and she wished she could wear it forever and ever. Even as a string of pearls was placed around her neck, she couldn’t take her eyes off the dress.
“You have outdone yourself with this one, Flora,” she said once the maids finished readying her.
Flora laughed in gratitude.
* * *
Dinners like this were usually long and tiring affairs. Brodrick remained seated at the head of the large table in the dining hall, entertaining his guests. If he was being more accurate, he was only tolerating them and letting Flora do all the talking.
He chewed his wild berries ever so slowly as the conversation around him droned on and on. Men on both sides of the table discussed with each other everything from the year’s harvest, to the hunt, to the need for housing equipment, and the more they spoke, the harder it was to resist the urge to get up and leave. He was about to fully give in to the temptation when he sawherappear.
Ava stepped into the dining hall, one hand placed over the other. She looked spectacular in green, and at that moment, the world seemed to completely stop. Brodrick couldn’t tell if he was imagining it, but the men all ceased talking at once. Even Laird MacMungo, who sat a few chairs down from him.
“Good Lord,” he heard someone say.
He turned in the direction of the voice. It was one of his council members, Blake Mason, a grey-haired man in his late fifties.
Good Lord is damn right.
The murmurs began to grow again as Ava moved closer to the table, the confusion in her eyes plain. She walked past the chairs around the table until she found an empty one… right next to Laird MacMungo. Brodrick wanted to reach for her. He wanted to grab her, kiss her in front of everyone, and leave the dining hall with her.
It took him an embarrassingly long moment to realize that Margaret had come in with her and stuck closely to her side.
Ava tried to get Margaret to go sit at the other side of the table, but the girl refused. Brodrick noticed the tense look on his daughter’s face. There was something—or someone—at the table that scared her.
And he couldn’t wait to find out.
The lairds sitting around the table continued to profusely compliment Ava and her dress. Laird MacMungo rose from his chair and moved a few seats down, allowing Margaret to take his place beside Ava.
Ava’s eyes flicked to him, a shy smile on her face. He returned her smile—the first he had given in quite a long time.
“The lost princess of the castle returns.” Blake Mason was the first to speak, acknowledging Margaret’s presence. “To the princess.” He raised his cup.
Every other person at the table followed suit, all raising their cups as well.
