wife. Clan MacRae was another of Robert’s staunch allies.
Everyone chuckled. Even Emma. Though she doubted Ciar would be boasting overmuch. Surely he wouldn’t mention anything about their impromptu rendezvous.
Before she reached the end of her row, a man stepped into the room and cleared his throat. “Excuse me, ladies. You are required in the courtyard.”
Emma tucked her partially finished scarf in her basket and pushed herself out of the settee. “At last.”
“’Tis only half past six. I doubt the march would have started before now regardless.” Janet took her hand. “Come along. Are you excited for the dancing?”
“Aye, as long as I don’t end up bumping into the lass beside me. ’Tis so embarrassing.”
“Not to worry. Everyone will understand. Besides, it is not as if you’re the only one who occasionally missteps.” Janet tightened her grip on Emma’s hand. “We’re walking through the doors and then down the stairs.”
“I can hear the pipers.”
“Follow me, ladies,” said the man. “The lairds will start the procession, and the wives will fall in behind them, then everyone else.”
The bagpipes grew louder as they stepped through the door. “Three paces to the stairs,” whispered Janet.
Emma nodded, walking confidently.
“Excellent. See, you scarcely need me.”
“Though you are kind to say so, I fear I will always be in need of a companion.”
Janet squeezed her hand. “Then you shall never fear being lonely.”
Emma smiled, though she often wished she could be alone. Not that she didn’t enjoy the company of others; it would just give her peace of mind to know she could walk anywhere she wanted without the fear of falling. Or being lost. Thank the stars she’d wandered into Ciar’s chamber last eve. If it had been someone else, the situation might have become quite dire.
“Here we are,” said Janet, stopping.
“I hear a crowd.”
“Aye, there are swarms of people in the courtyard, and they’ve made a tunnel for my father and the clan chiefs to walk through.”
“Can you see them?”
“Aye, Lochiel just received the torch from the steward, and he’s starting down the stairs.”
“Do you see Dunollie?”
“He’s right behind with Robert. Wave, dearest!”
Emma unfurled her fan and fluttered it through the air, smiling broadly. “Are they waving back?”
“Indeed they are.”
“Ciar as well?”
“You…” Janet lowered her voice as she wrapped her fingers around Emma’s elbow. “…have a fondness for him, do you not?”
“Dunollie?”
Janet urged her forward. “Ciar MacDougall, one and the same.”
How should Emma respond? Her fondness for the laird wasn’t new. After all, at this very gathering he’d already danced with her and strolled through the gardens with her. The only thing Janet didn’t know about was the kiss. A harmless kiss at that.
Emma raised her chin, trying to appear aloof. “I’ve always been fond of him.”
“Hmm.”
Good heavens, hmm could mean so many things. Was Janet frowning? Or smiling? Or did Betty tell her about finding them in the passageway in the wee hours?
Unlikely.
“Dunollie has been a friend to Robert since they were lads,” Emma continued. “And I’ve known him for as long myself. Moreover, most gentlemen who visit my brother rarely utter a word to me, but Ciar has always been polite.”
“You needn’t defend yourself. He’s a good man.”
Emma let out a pent-up breath. “Betty says he’s rugged looking.”
“I’d concur with her assessment.”
“But handsome all the same?”
“Fearsome, I suppose. He certainly towers over everyone else.”
Emma liked that. He was a giant yet gentle.
“Did you sigh?” asked Janet.
“Me? Hardly.”
“Good heavens, I cannot believe my father’s gall.”
“What is it?”
“I thought the tug o’ war would be between the clans, not the lairds.”
“Truly? Is Dunollie pulling?”
“Of course.”
“Well, if he’s as fearsome as you said, his side will win.”
Janet snorted. “You cannot side with him. He’s pulling against Robert.”
Emma laughed. “And who else? How are the teams divided?”
“Cameron, MacDougall, Stewart, MacKenzie, Murray, and MacNeill on the left. And there’s Grant, MacDonald, MacIain, MacGregor, Gordon, and MacRae on the right.”
“Dunn MacRae?”
“Aye.”
“Well, he and Robert ought to give Lochiel’s team a challenge.”
“I hope so,” said Janet. “It won’t be long now. The referee is moving into place.”
“Take up your rope, men!” bellowed a deep voice. “The first team to pull their opponent into the bog shall be the victor.”
The crowd erupted in a cacophony of shouts, with everyone crying their favored clans. Beside her, Janet remained silent, so Emma opted to as well, though she crossed her fingers and said a silent prayer for Ciar. He was far too affable a man to end up in a bog.
“Bear down, Grant!” Betty’s voice rose over the crowd. “Douse them in the