Page 2 of A Virgin for the Icy Highlander
It was jaunty, lively music, of the kind that would have turned her father’s nose all the way up into the air—music designed for giddy entertainment, rather than stuffy, sedate balls.
“Indeed, I have been waiting for the right moment, and this seems like the very one,” Miss Sutton said, lowering her voice to an excited whisper. “It is time you knew about the dares.”
“What dares?” Lilian whispered back, her big eyes widening.
Miss Sutton chuckled. “Around the time of my ladies’ departure from the school, it is customary—nay, expected—for them to complete dares, to show that they are truly ready for the world beyond my walls. Thatyouare truly prepared to face it without fear. That you are Horndean heroines, through and through.”
“Do we choose them ourselves?” Maddie asked, one eyebrow raised.
The headmistress gave a small shrug. “Some do. Others have them chosen by friends. But a select few have them chosen by me.”
“And what dare would yougiveme,Miss Sutton?” Grace asked, laughing, not at all expecting the headmistress to give one then and there.
But Miss Sutton smiled, tilting her head to the side, observing Grace for a moment before she said, quite seriously, “I dare you to take part in thatcèilidhdown there.” She began to walk away, holding up a hand as she departed, calling out, “I look forward to hearing all about it! Your friends shall be your witnesses!”
In the wake of her mischievous departure, Grace didn’t move a muscle. The lilt of that exciting music swirling around her worked like an unnatural force, trying to lead her down the alleyway.
Since she was in Scotland, she’d heard about all kinds of mystical beings and trickster creatures and superstitions, but she’d assumed they were all childish stories. Until that flute, fiddle, and drumbeat snared her attention, refusing to let go.
“You do not think she was serious, d-do you?” Lilian asked, her subtle stutter betraying her fear.
Maddie smirked. “I think she was totally serious.” She glanced at Grace. “But it is your choice. I mean, youdidsay that you missed dancing.”
“You shouldn’t be so gleeful,” Grace warned playfully, gathering her courage. “Once I have done mine, one of you will have to do yours next. And who knows what that might be...”
Lilian paled, prompting Grace to rush and add, “Just an idea, for now. I am not giving any dares, merely pondering.”
“Go on, then,” Maddie encouraged. “Let us see how simple it is to perform such a dare. As Miss Sutton said, we must be your witnesses.”
Spurred on by the anticipation radiating from her bespectacled beauty of a friend, Grace took a breath, pulled back her shoulders, and rounded the bend of the alleyway, drawn in by that sweet, intoxicating music.
With each step, it grew louder, and the passageway seemed to become narrower, tapering to a complete dead-end.
Or so it appeared, until Grace realized there was a secret door hidden behind a stack of moldy, rotting barrels. It would be a squeeze, and her nerves were failing her, jittering wildly to the raucous rhythm of the instruments, where a haunting, powerful voice had just joined the music in a language she didn’t understand.
“Here!” Maddie whispered, pointing to something on the alley wall.
Grace approached, discovering a small, soot-stained window. Crouching a little, she peered through the grainy haze to find a stirring underworld of song and warmth and drink and boisterous cheer.
Bodies whirled around a makeshift dance floor. Ladies and gentlemen spun in dizzying circles, closer than any ‘proper’ English ball would ever permit.
The menclaspedthe women to them, and the women grabbed them in return as they leapt and spun and twirled, leaving Grace as breathless as if she were down there, part of it all.
“I’m sure ye can go in if ye desire, lassies,” a deep voice rumbled behind them, startling Lilian and Maddie away from the tiny window as if they had both been stung by the same wasp.
But Grace couldn’t draw her gaze away from the enchanting scene. She was mesmerized by the wild and wondrous dancers. She murmured, almost to herself, “What are they celebrating?”
An indifferent huff seemed to caress the back of her neck, making the fine hairs stand on end. “My triumph. I killed seventy-three men, including a laird.”
2
Afearsome Scotsman blocked their exit from the alleyway, though Grace couldn’t tell if this impediment was deliberate or accidental. He was as tall as an oak, and so broad in the shoulders that he had to turn slightly to fit in the narrow passage… where he still stood, peering down at her.
Bluish-gray eyes, the color of the stream that ran alongside Horndean, gave nothing away.
Was she annoying him by being there? Was he waiting for her to get out of the way? Was he angry that she was prying?
It was impossible to tell. His face was as expressionless as a statue, which made sense, considering he resembled one.
