"So direct." A slow smile eased across Iain's face, relaxing his firm features. "That's what I like about ye, Serena Boyd. No airs. No silliness. Only honesty. Serenity—the kind a man like me craves. I think yer name suits ye well. It isn't Scottish, yet ye say ye've lived in the village yer whole life?"
"Aye, I have." Serena nodded, familiar with people's curiosity about her name. "I'm named for my grandmother. My mither's mither was Spanish. She married a Scot by an arranged marriage."
The laird stroked his shaved jaw. "An arranged marriage across country borders are usually only done by families of consequence. What of yer father? Did yer mither marry beneath her station then?" He raised a brow.
"I know naught." Serena lifted her chin and stiffened. "Mither dislikes talking about him. What I've learned doesn't make me wish to know more."
"Och! Forgive me for prying, but I canna help wanting to discover more about ye."
"My laird, Doreen said ye wanted to see me about something?" Serena hoped to distract him without encouraging his wrath or more curiosity. Could he not give new orders and allow her back to her duties?
"Such an eloquent way of forcing me back to the point." Iain tilted his head, steepled his fingers, and regarded her. "But first, tell me who educated ye. Lass, ye're not like the others in the village. Ye read as well as I do. Yer manners are perfect. Ye may live in a wee cottage, but ye know how to run the household of a castle and ye've only been doing so these past six months."
"My mither has been my only teacher."
"I see," Iain said. "As ye might have guessed or heard from the gossips, I was sent away to England to be educated by my uncle. To the merciless delight of others, I never lost my Scottish brogue and became the source of much taunting at social events. When it became known that I stood to inherit a large estate here in Scotland, only then did I earn the respect of my peers, but by then I no longer desired it."
He picked up a letter on his desk and stood, walking around to lean against the front of it. "I received this letter from my cousin, Hogan Lennox, the Earl of Caithness. He has heard that the sons of Birk MacKenzie are here, the Chief of the MacKenzie Clan. Since Gavin is next in line as the MacKenzie heir, my cousin has chastised me for not holding a welcoming party to introduce the MacKenzie brothers to him and other residents of influence in the shire of Caithness." The laird tossed the letter on his desk and folded his arms. "I'd hoped to be free of such organized events when I moved back here. I grew weary of all the social games people play among the elite in England."
"My laird, ye're a wealthy man in this shire, ye canna expect to remain hidden forever. People are too curious about ye." Serena stepped forward, wanting to encourage him.
"Lass, I see ye almost daily. Can ye not think of me as a close enough friend to call me by my given name? Please? I desire it." He raised his chin and looked into her eyes with such an earnestness that she faltered and looked toward the open window through the library doorway. Birds chirped in the distance and a slight draft lifted the white drapes.
"I fear that may be seen as disrespectful." Her voice sounded too low and less sure than she would have liked.
"Believe me, I understand yer concern, but I've asked the same of everyone who works for me here at Braigh Castle. We are so remote and rarely have out-of-town guests. I find such propriety too much of an inconvenience. Such formality makes me feel like a stranger to the people who share my home and to those I see so often—like ye."
She couldn't blame him for feeling that way. A sense of compassion stirred within her. Having her mother and Gunna to talk to and spend time with made a huge difference to a lonely existence, even though she'd claimed she wouldn't be alone because she would have the villagers.
"Verra well. Iain it is, then." Serena couldn't resist smiling at him.
"Good." His hazel eyes lit up like the morning sunrise. "Then we have an understanding." Iain's lips curled into a wide grin. "And I have another favor to ask of ye—the real reason I summoned ye."
"Aye?" Serena folded her hands in front of her and waited for him to proceed.
"I need yer help planning this party. I've no wife, mither, or sister to attend to such matters."
"Of course, I'll be happy to assist ye. I'll need a list of people ye plan to invite. I'll take care of everything. Don't ye worry none. "
"Fine." He shook his auburn head. "But I want ye there."
"Of course, ye'll need servants." Serena nodded. "I and the others will be prepared."
"Ye don't understand, lass. I want ye to attend the party— as a guest. I'd rather ye help me as hostess, but that probably would be unacceptable."
"Indeed." Serena gasped, and then covered her mouth at the sudden outburst. She stared at Iain in confusion.
"As a guest, then." He shrugged as if the matter were closed.
"That too would not be acceptable. I'm naught but a servant in yer household."
"I care not about such matters. Ye should know that about me by now."
"But I care. Nay." She shook her head and stepped back. "I'm not comfortable with it. Please forgive me."
"Bring yer mither. Mayhap ye won't feel so awkward then."
"Nay!" Serena backed away. "We've no proper clothing. A village lass would bring disrespect upon yer head. I care naught about myself for I'm quite used to being from the Village of Outcasts, but ye're the laird of Braigh Castle. One day ye'll want a mistress for it . . . and heirs."
"Aye, and I can promise it won't be Lady Fiona as he intends. I'll wed a lass of my own choosing. I don't care where she comes from, her station, or breeding. I'm only interested in her morals and good character. Is she a God-fearing woman who will be faithful to me as I age? Will she be a good mither and wife? Will she treat others with respect? I don't want a wife who only accepts friends based on their station in life as if no one else matters." Iain walked toward her.
Serena held her ground, swallowing. She licked her dry lips. "I admire yer decision, but I don't see what that has to do with my presence at this party."
"No one need know ye're from the village."
"I won't lie."
"Fine. As I told ye, I'm not the one who is concerned about what others think. I'd still like ye to be there. I plan to have dancing and there will be plenty of lonely men without a partner. Ye may bring a friend or two from the village."
A servant cleared his throat at the doorway. "Lord Lennox has arrived with his daughter."
Iain rubbed his eyes. "Now the man has taken to calling unexpectedly and this time he has brought his daughter, hoping we'll become better acquainted, no doubt." He looked over Serena's head at the servant behind her. "Show them to the drawing room," Iain said.
"Mayhap ye'll become more fond of her after ye get to know her." Serena offered him a hopeful smile.
"Hogan Lennox is second in line to inherit this estate if I have no heirs. He tried to prevent my inheritance and when the court didn't settle the appeal in his favor, he's now trying to throw his daughter at me. I need at least one ally I can trust at this party. Please? I need ye there."
"Verra well." Serena sighed. "But ye might regret it."
"I doubt that." He stepped around her and headed for the door. "I promised to show Gavin and Leith the lands. Will ye do the honor for me? Ye know the grounds as well as I. Give them my regrets and explain the plight of my unexpected visitors."
An image of Gavin's handsome face came to mind and her heart seized in a spasm. She wasn't sure if she nodded in agreement or not, but Iain still thanked her and walked out. Serena took a deep breath and patted her hot cheeks. She would have to gain better control of herself if she had to spend the rest of the afternoon in Gavin's company.
Conversations filled Gavin's ears as he worked beside the men. Used to giving the orders, he found himself crushing his tongue and holding back his thoughts in order to give his brother a chance to lead the men and earn their respect.
He looked forward to the laird's tour of the estate, anyt
hing that would get him away from the temptation of taking over. Leith was doing well.
"How tall should we build this next scaffold, Gavin? Should they all be the same height?" Craig dropped a couple of poles on the ground and shoved his fists at his sides.
"Ye need to ask Leith. He's in charge." Gavin pulled a rope tight, making sure the two pieces of wood were sturdy and secure.
"I'm looking for Gavin MacKenzie."
Gavin paused, recognizing Serena's voice. Why would she be seeking him at this time of day? His heart raced as his mind sought various possibilities.
"Over there, lass," Craig said, pointing in his direction.
Turning, Gavin's chest tightened as he studied her. Serena's creamy skin and full pink lips beckoned into a smile, sending his pulse pumping at full speed. She wore a tan cloak over a simple brown gown.
"The laird sends his regrets. He has unexpected company and asked me to show ye and Leith the estate." She bit her bottom lip. "I hope ye don't mind?"
"Mind spending the rest of the afternoon with a bonny lass? I recognize a blessing when it comes my way." Gavin grinned, hoping he didn't sound like an addled fool. He certainly felt like one. Strange things happened to him when Serena was around. His breathing became erratic, his mind muddled, and his body warm.
"Yer flattery won't work on me, Gavin MacKenzie." In spite of her words, the color in her cheeks deepened. "Today we aren't dancing and having a feast."
"An' why not?"
She tilted her head as if considering the matter at great length. "Because that was a tale of pretend and today we're back to the real world—where ye're the MacKenzie heir and I'm a poor village lass."
The logic in her words clubbed his chest like an afflicted warrior losing a fight. Hadn't Leith said something similar? Still, Gavin didn't want to think about the obstacles. He'd rather think about the moment.
"Fair enough." Gavin crossed his arms. "How about we keep things simple? A friendship with no assumptions."
"Agreed. Iain gave me permission to ride one of his horses. Did ye bring Sholto?"
"Aye. He's at the stable." Gavin noticed she used the laird's given name. It was the first time he could recall her doing so. He tried not to let it bother him, but the change weighed on him. He disliked jealousy and had no right to muddle if Iain was man enough to ignore her low birth.
Gavin turned to Craig, who worked at tying the two scaffolds together, pretending he hadn't heard their exchange. "Craig, tell Leith he can join us on the tour of the grounds and to meet us at the stables in the next few minutes if he intends to go."
He and Serena walked across the courtyard to the stables. Their arms brushed. Unexpected warmth gushed through him. How could he ignore this glaring attraction to her? Serena kept moving as if oblivious to the mounting connection between them. He struggled with his code of honor. The odds stacked against them would be difficult, but not impossible.
"How well do ye ride?" A horse snorted and another one whinnied as they drew closer to the stables.
Serena tucked a strand of black hair behind her ear and stared up at him. Her mouth twisted as she raised her chin. "I suppose that's a fair question since ye've never seen me ride on my own."
"I didn't mean to offend ye. I merely thought to help ye find a proper horse." Gavin leaned one arm over an empty stall door and watched her.
She twisted the button on her cloak at her neck. Her gaze shifted around the stable. Was she afraid to ride and too proud to admit it? Such a thing would most certainly be the Highland way.
"In spite of what ye must think of me, I'll choose my own mount." Serena strolled down the aisle, her head turning from side to side, glancing in each stall.
"What must I be thinking, pray tell?" Gavin followed at a leisure pace, his hands linked behind his back. Something vexed her, and he couldn't help wondering what.
She smirked. "That I'm a feeble lass who canna stay seated upon a wagon, with spoiled feet that trample stranger's toes."
Ahh, her wounded pride was the barrier between them. Mayhap he could flatter his way past it. "On the contrary, I no longer consider myself a stranger. And nay, I think something unusual must have happened to unseat ye from the wagon. I imagine ye're used to that wagon and ye've probably made the trip to town on many occasions."
Serena whirled, her green eyes blazed with fire. He wasn't sure if it was anger or fear. "What unusual thing must have happened?" The question came out breathless.
Gavin blinked, trying to understand her curious behavior. He lifted his hands as if in surrender. "Only that yer horse must have stepped in a hole or tripped over a rock. What else could I have possibly meant?"
He stepped closer and trailed a finger over her cheek. "Serena, I could never think ill of ye. Indeed, I'm in awe of ye. I don't wish to argue, but ye seem determined to be angry with me. If I've done something, tell me. I want to make amends at once."
"Nay, I'm sorry." She blinked, but didn't turn away. "Ye've done naught to deserve my temper. I let my imagination get carried away is all."
"Glad to hear it. I've only had good, decent thoughts about ye. Don't ever think otherwise. I'll leave ye to choose a horse while I ready Sholto."
Gavin strode to Sholto's stall and unlocked the gate. He rubbed the animal's neck in greeting. Sholto leaned toward him, embracing the contact. Gavin smiled as Sholto's tail swung in an arc. He was ready for a vigorous ride.
A few minutes later, Gavin led his horse out at the same time Serena appeared with a brown mare. The two animals greeted each other with a snort. Sholto's white hair glowed in comparison. Much taller and filled with muscular strength, Gavin couldn't help thinking how each horse matched their rider.
"Has Iain told ye of the welcoming party he intends to throw for ye and Leith?" Serena glanced sideways at him.
"Aye." Gavin nodded. "That isn't necessary, though. He's given us plenty of hospitality. I've no wish for him to go to more trouble on our behalf."
"Too late. He's made up his mind. The Earl of Caithness wants to meet ye. I'll be in charge of planning it. We'll have a fine feast, music, and dancing."
"Serena, will ye be there?" The idea of dancing with her again warmed his blood.
"Aye, but I'm none too pleased by it." Her lips formed a thin line as they left the shadow of the stables.
"Why is that? Most women I know would be thrilled at a chance to wear their finest at a lively evening full of dancing and entertainment." He grinned, unable to hide his amusement.
She looked toward the castle where his men worked building the new scaffolds. "Mayhap those women have fine gowns, and they've been trained in courtship dances and the formal ways of such things. No doubt, they know what to say around educated men who have traveled the world. At my age, they wouldn't be attending their first formal dance—beyond the simple country dances."
"A fine gown is a material possession that can be bought quickly enough." Gavin wanted to give her the confidence she needed—to somehow ease her discomfort and fear. "The dances can be taught, but the rest is fear I hear in yer voice. I think ye're too strong a lass to let fear conquer ye like that. I'm an educated man who has traveled the world, and ye have no problem talking to me."
"Aye, Gavin." Serena brushed strands of hair from her face. "But ye're different. I've already trampled yer feet and still ye're my friend."
His smile faltered. His tongue burned with the desire to tell her he wanted to be more than her friend, but she was right. He had offered her his friendship with no assumptions. Instead, he shrugged and forced a smile. "Any man who denies ye his friendship for such a simple matter wouldn't be worth
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