Sometimes running away like a coward was the only thing to do. Especially where dancing—the gateway drug to love—was concerned. Footloose, Hairspray, The King and I, My Fair Lady, and even Hello, Dolly leapt to my mind as cautionary tales. These musical public service announcements warned us about the dangers incited by something as innocuous as a hip wiggle or waltz.
As the heart takes flight and your daydreams appear, any kind of thing can happen. A yes leads to hands and cheeks pressed, the brush of bodies as they sway. It would lead to sweating, and kissing. And romance. Which was to be avoided like the plague.
Duncan’s velvet gaze searched my face as he waited for my answer. Would I care to dance? He might as well have asked me if I wanted to flush my dreams down the toilet. No thank you. Duncan’s eyes widened slightly, cluing me in that I’d spoken aloud. His eagerness vanished as I quickly pointed toward my toes. “Two left feet—remember? How about we go outside and … talk?”
Doing his best to recover from his disappointment, Duncan nodded and offered me his arm. “Verra well. ’Tis a beautiful night. Almost as beautiful as you.”
Before we could slip between the open doors, Fergus blocked our path. He cast me an apologetic glance, and then spoke in a low, urgent voice. “M’ laird, I’m verra sorry to bother ye, but I need ta speak ta you on a matter of great importance.”
With Fergus close behind, Duncan guided me outside and into a remote corner of the patio. He looked about to gauge our privacy then nodded for Fergus to continue. The large man’s pale face grew mottled with agitation as he explained, “It’s Gideon, m’ laird. He’s gone. His guards are gone as well. I’ve had yer men scour the village but there’s no sign of him. It’s as if he’s vanished.”
Duncan cursed under his breath. His lips pressed into a thin slash as his square jaw set determinedly. “Then we canna’ wait much longer to tell Jamie about the deaths at Muir Lea.”
Fergus’s pale brows puckered as he surveyed the multitudes enjoying the party. “In the middle of the coronation ball, m’ laird?”
“Nay. As soon as the celebration has finished. But we need to speak to him before Gideon does. Please go tell the king his brother wishes a word with him in private after the ball.”
“Aye m’ laird.”
As the gentle giant hurried away, Duncan offered me his arm once again. “Dinna worry, Mackenna. Everything will turn out right in the end.”
“Really?” Because from where I was standing, he was covering for me by imprisoning his fellow countryman and lying about it to his own brother, who also happens to be the supreme ruler of the kingdom. “I don’t see how.”
He offered me a lopsided smile that radiated assurance. “There are lots of ways of lookin’ at things.”
“Okay. So how do you see this turning out?”
“It’s not about only this, Mackenna. It’s about how I see everything. My world. Your world. And everything beyond. I believe you and your friend were both brought here for a specific purpose. And if it’s your destiny to be here, who am I to be doubtin’ that?”
“You make it sound so simple.”
Duncan raked his hand through his hair creating those dark, spiky peaks that I loved so. “Faith is hard. Especially when your mind and maybe even your heart might be sayin’ otherwise. But when things seem difficult and we’re tempted to doubt, we need to trust in what we can’t see.”
His faith did little to fill the hollow place created by Fergus’s news. Doing my best to shake off the feeling of doom, I slipped my hand into the crook of his arm and let him lead me into the perfect summer night. After a few minutes of quiet rambling along the hedgerow, we approached a huge stone archway. Duncan turned to look back the way we’d come. His face shone with quiet pride as he instructed me to turn around.