think Branwen likes him,” Roy said, a smirk on his face. Her own brother loved to see her punished, chastised, anything at all, though he never received anything but praise.
A tall man with dark hair pushed through the crowd to Alick’s side. “Laird Connor Grant. What seems to be the trouble, Denton?”
“This man will not leave me be.” He nodded toward Alick, the look in his gaze one of sheer fury. “I do not know him, but I’ll suggest you have him removed from the premises. It’s not his place to mishandle me.”
“I’ll tell him to release your hand, but if it swings upward again, you’ll have to deal with me. You’ll not strike a lass in my presence or in my keep. Is that clear?” The laird set his feet apart and put his hands on his hips as he looked down at her father.
Next to two strapping Highlanders, her father appeared infinitely smaller, but he clearly felt he was in the right, that he should be allowed to discipline his daughter the way he saw fit. Still, Connor Grant was the tallest man she’d ever seen, and her father was too canny to attempt battling him in his own hall surrounded by his own warriors.
She’d only wished to have a wee bit of enjoyment in her life, but now every set of eyes in the hall was focused on her. Branwen fought tears as she watched her father nod to Connor Grant, acceding to his wishes. For now.
That would all change as soon as they departed for home in a day or two. She’d guess he’d stop the moment they were off Grant land to punish her. There’d likely be more blows because the first had been prevented.
Well, it had been worth it to dance with Alick, to see him stay her sire’s hand, however briefly.
Before she knew it, she was being brutally yanked back into the corner of the hall. Her sire stood guard over her, his whole body radiating anger. “I should like to drag you home and wallop you along the way, but I’ll not travel in the dark in these uncertain times, and I won’t have my lad suffer because of your poor judgment. You’ll stay where I tell you.”
There was another reason that he chose to stay, if she were to wager. She wondered what pull this place had on her sire.
Could he be searching for a new wife?
But the thought didn’t hold her interest. She didn’t care what he was doing or why.
She’d just met the man of her dreams, the knight who’d saved her from another of her sire’s cruel blows.
At least she’d gotten a small taste of what it was to be in love.
Chapter Two
Branwen stood next to her sire, keeping her eyes downcast as he preferred, but she let her mind stray to the dance steps Alick had taught her. Swaying around the floor with him, she’d felt so free. As if she were flying.
“Do not move from this spot,” her father said, intruding on her dreamy thoughts. She watched with relief as he peeled away to join a small group of men. They only stood there for a moment before an older man ushered them off to a private place.
Alick appeared out of nowhere, holding out his hand. “Come, he’s not here. Allow yourself more fun.”
She smiled, loving the thought but dreading the repercussions of her actions. Holding fast, she considered her options, staring at his kind face.
He rolled his eyes and said, “I forgot, you’d rather be with your sire than me, is that not right?”
“Nay,” she whispered. Her mind returned to the joy she’d felt while dancing with this man—and how it had helped her forget, for a moment, the pain and shame of these last years. She quickly decided that any punishment would be worth a few more minutes with Alick MacNicol.
She took his hand.
“Then come with me,” he said, his eyes lighting up as he tugged her to and through the door. “I’ll prop it open so we can hear the music. We can dance under the stars.” He found a big rock and set it against the bottom of the door, holding it open. Then he took her hand again and led her down a path into a garden, where they couldn’t be seen by anyone else.
“There. See, no one is here. We can do a different dance this time.”
She nodded, not knowing any other dance than the one he had shown her.