Her Scottish Keep (Dream Come True Sweet Romance Book 1)

by Darci Balogh

  The sight of Laird MacBrody at breakfast was wholly unusual. They had all grown accustomed to dining without his presence. Now that he was standing here, even the Prescotts hesitated. No doubt they were flipping through all of the polite protocol they stored in their brains to find the correct way to proceed. Thank goodness, because Tawnyetta and her American counter parts had no earthly idea what to do or say.

  "Laird MacBrody," Mrs. Prescott's smooth voice broke the silence. "What an honor to have your grace dine with us."

  Michael shifted his weight from one hip to the other, still uncomfortable. With a half-smile stuck to his lips he swept his gaze around the room, making eye contact with each of them for a split second before moving to the next. His eyes landed on Tawnyetta last, where they softened and stayed.

  "I hope you are well this morning?" he inquired.

  Singling her out in the crowd caused all the others to look at her and she could only guess what they were thinking. Why was he here? What will she say? What happened between the two of them in the bothy?

  She nodded mutely.

  "Good," Michael said, the word resonating through her body like a rumble of thunder. He remembered to look up at the rest of the group and his smile broadened as he stepped into the room.

  Thomas returned to his seat on Tawnyetta's left, gently placing her breakfast in front of her, a plate piled high with every item from the buffet plus the mountain of sausages she had requested. Tawnyetta grimaced. Luna was already seated on her right, which left no place for Michael to possibly join her. Part of her was relieved. His presence put her aflutter and she wasn't sure she could eat at all, plus the pile of sausages wasn't exactly the sexiest way to present herself.

  To her chagrin, Michael found a spare seat directly across from her at the table. As he sat down, Anne and another server started toward him to find out what he wanted no doubt. With a quick shake of his head he indicated to them that he didn't want any special treatment and they returned to their posts at the buffet table.

  The room was silent except for some clinking of silverware and serving dishes. Everyone seemed to be waiting to see what was going to happen. Tawnyetta sank back into her chair and stared at her coffee cup, wishing the floor would open and swallow her up. After a few moments she had to look at him, unable to contain her curiosity.

  He was grinning at her, his damnable deep blue eyes twinkling and making her breath catch in her throat. She felt her cheeks flush under his attention and could sense Luna noticing their exchange.

  Michael dropped his gaze to the pile of sausages on her plate and looked back up at her. His eyes danced with the humor of it all and he opened his mouth to say something.

  "Do you mind if we join you, my Laird?" Bea butted in. She and Bridget had materialized on either side of Michael. Bridget was already pulling the chair to his right away from the table to sit down.

  Michael stood quickly to pull their chairs out for them. "It would be my pleasure."

  "Thank you," Bridget said. Her smile beamed brightly. "I'm dying to know every detail of how you saved our dear friend, Tawnyetta, yesterday."

  Thomas' brow screwed into a scowl and he leaned into Tawnyetta, whispering. "Why is she talking like she's in Pride and Prejudice?"

  "Look around," Tawnyetta whispered back.

  Thomas eyed the huge room, the fine furnishings, the expensive china, and the servants hovering nearby. He shrugged and murmured quietly, "It's not bad for a relic. I could build something better."

  She had no doubt that he could. Thomas was a builder, a talented carpenter since they were young. Still, he was pouting. "You're pouting," she told him.

  Thomas continued to scowl as he took a huge bite of fried egg and watched the antics on the other side of the table.

  "Do tell us everything, Laird MacBrody," Bea was encouraging Michael as Bridget nodded emphatically.

  Michael arched his eyebrows at Tawnyetta. She shrugged, not sure how to explain their time in the bothy to the others. It had been completely innocent, even though they had been wrapped only in blankets. But they had also shared an intimacy that she still hadn't wrapped her mind around. At least she had felt that intimacy. At this moment, she wasn't sure if he had or not. She also didn't know if he was going to share all of the details with the whole world right here at the breakfast table.

  Michael cleared his throat, buying time. He looked to Bridget then Bea, then back to Tawnyetta, saying, "It was an honor to get to know your dear friend."

  Thomas scoffed into his coffee cup at the use of the antiquated language. Bridget shot him a reproachful look.

  "She was very brave," Michael added, holding Tawnyetta's gaze. Warmth ran over her shoulders and down her spine, as if someone were pouring honey that had been sitting in a sunny windowsill down her back.

  Bridget was not satisfied with his answer. Tawnyetta could read it on her face. She was about to push for more information from Michael when Mr. Prescott spoke up from the coffee carafe.

  "I say, Laird MacBrody, will you be at the Games tomorrow?"

  Michael turned his attention toward the older man. "Yes, I will."

  "Games?" Thomas perked up a little.

  "The Highland Games," Mr. Prescott explained. "Great tradition. We're supposed to have good weather for it, too."

  "Yes, we are," Michael added. He spoke to Thomas hopefully, "Would you like to join our team?" And to the Prescott men, though with a little less enthusiasm, he said, "You're all welcome."

  "I can be on your team?" Thomas warmed quickly to the idea.

  Michael nodded.

  "But you don't even know what they play," Bridget said to Thomas. He glared at her.

  "Are they traditional Highland Games?" Sofia asked.

  "Yes," Michael answered. "Most of them have fairly simple rules. They're more about strength and stamina."

  "We can all come and watch?" Luna asked.

  Michael smiled at her and nodded then shifted his eyes quickly to Tawnyetta. "I was hoping that you would."

  "Won't that be interesting," Bridget exclaimed, touching Michael's forearm as she did.

  Thomas noticed the touch and gave Tawnyetta a look. "It will definitely be interesting," he said to her in a low voice with more than a hint of sarcasm.

  Tawnyetta stabbed the top sausage off of her pile and bit into it. May as well eat up, she would need all of her strength to get through this week.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The day of the Games dawned and the castle was abuzz with excitement. Preparations for getting guests, staff, and Laird Michael to the grounds on time overrode all of the normal formality of their mornings. Tawnyetta couldn't help but get caught up in the mood. She agreed to go with Angie to the Secret Garden to gather flowers to braid through Angie's red ringlets. They ran into Anne and Erin at the back entrance to the castle upon their return.

  "Can we help you with that?" Tawnyetta asked the two maids who were struggling with a huge cooler.

  "No, thank you," Anne answered politely, though they were obviously straining under the weight.

  "Don't be silly," Angie said. She tucked her small bouquet of pink and white flowers into the pocket of her sundress and went to Erin's side to help lift.

  Tawnyetta went to Anne's side and grabbed the handle next to the maid's hand. She was surprised at the weight. "What's in this thing?"

  "Ale and Irn Bru," Erin answered, slightly out of breath.

  "Iron Brew?" Tawnyetta asked, for that's how the maid pronounced it. "No wonder this is so heavy!"

  "You've not heard of Irn Bru?" Anne was surprised. The two Americans shook their heads. "You're in for a treat, then," Anne informed them.

  The four of them managed to get the cooler down the steps and were approaching the truck carrying supplies when Michael and Thomas appeared beside them.

  Both men wore kilts. Tawnyetta's stomach did a flip-flop. The kilt again. Michael's was the same black and grey tartan he had worn at the ball, though this one looked l
ike it wasn't brand new. Thomas' was green and black.

  "Thomas!" Angie was delighted with his new look.

  His cheeks reddened. "They let me borrow a kilt. I guess it's tradition."

  "Ladies, let us get this," Michael said.

  He was at Tawnyetta's elbow and the sound of his voice was so close it gave her goose bumps. She tried to avoid looking back over her shoulder at him so nobody could tell that his kilt and billowy white cotton shirt was making her weak in the knees.

  The women placed the cooler gently on the ground, thankful to be free of their burden. Before Tawnyetta could let go of the handle, Michael's hand ran over hers where he was taking hold of the cooler. Their bodies touched, her backside to his front, sending ripples of excitement across her skin.

  Hosted by the town of Eldin, the Games were held on a neatly manicured grassy meadow less than a mile from the city limits. There was a dirt parking lot with no lines to guide drivers, one small building that provided running water and restrooms, and very little else in the way of parks and recreation maintenance. It reminded Tawnyetta of small town fairgrounds she'd been to in the more rural areas of Colorado when she was a child. With the gorgeous blue skies, tame puffy clouds, and deep green hills rising around them, it was sure to be a beautiful day.

  Tawnyetta found the events fell somewhere between a county fair and a high school track meet. There was the 5K run and other track competitions like the shot put throw. Or at least that's what they called it in the states. Here in Scotland large men heaved heavy stones across the field and called it the Stone Put. Or they whipped them around in frantic circles on the end of a steel wire before throwing them. That event was called the Hammer Toss.

  There were also Celtic dancers made up of groups of girls and young women. They were accompanied by bagpipes and heavy drums as they danced under a portable tent that had been set up for them. Other smaller tented booths served food and drink. A few held locals selling their Artisan crafts. Eldin's mayor was present and led the parade first thing in the morning into the fairgrounds. Michael had accompanied the mayor and was given the place of honor directly in front of the group of bagpipe players in the small parade. Being the Laird of Claymore Castle, it would seem, had its perks.

  Most impressive, however, were the games of strength. Tall, thickly muscled, kilted Highland men competed in various feats of lifting, pulling, and tossing of different heavy objects. They pitted their strength against one another in an intense game of Tug of War. And, of course, there was the Caber Toss, the competition where each man lifted what looked like a telephone pole straight into the air and heaved it forward attempting to make it flip longways on its end. It was nothing if not a way for men to show off superior upper body strength.

  Tawnyetta wore a mid-calf pair of spandex running shorts, a purple Colorado Rockies baseball T-shirt, and a black hoodie, which she tied around her waist. She had convinced Luna to join her in the 5K run that was part of the Games. She made sure to wrap her ankle and promised she would go no faster than a slow jog to get Luna to agree. The run was set up for the participants to loop around and around the edge of the fairgrounds until their three plus miles was complete. From this makeshift track they could watch most of what was going on, especially if they were jogging at a slower pace.

  "I can't believe Thomas is wearing a kilt," Luna giggled when they caught a glimpse of him through the crowd preparing for the Tug of War.

  "I know," Tawnyetta agreed. "He looks good in it, though. Kilts make men look good."

  Luna gave her a sideways look as they rounded a curve. "Yes, I've noticed you noticing."

  Tawnyetta laughed at the idea. "Noticing Thomas? I don't think so."

  "I wasn't talking about Thomas," Luna said slyly.

  Just then the Tug of War began and they slowed down a little more to peer through the crowd and watch. In this setting Tawnyetta could see where the name Tug of War came from. There was something medieval about these brutish men gripping a thick heavy rope and pulling against each other with all of their strength. It put her in mind of ancient wars that were fought using hand-to-hand battle instead of with computers or airplanes like they were nowadays.

  Thomas was part of the castle team. It was fun to watch him pull with all of his might, grunting and sweating with his teammates. Sometimes Tawnyetta thought he spent too much time with her and the other four girls and didn't have enough male bonding. She was glad to see him enjoying himself in such a masculine contest.

  It was, she had to admit, also fun to watch Michael.

  He had started the day with a wool jacket worn over his white shirt during the parade. But after the chilly morning air dissipated and the formality of the parade ended Michael had taken off the jacket, revealing his impressive physique. As he dug in with the other men his legs were taunt, his strong hands gripped the thick rope, his powerful torso was easily seen under the light cotton cloth of his shirt, his roped muscles strained and, eventually, helped win against the fierce competitors. The whole scene was decidedly virile.

  Tawnyetta's steps slowed significantly as she caught glimpses of him celebrating the big win with raised fists and shouts of encouragement to his team. Good manners were out the window as he and his mates formed a tight circle and chanted something she couldn't quite make out. Like all sports teams celebrating big wins, there were plenty of deep voices, sweaty bodies, back slapping and guffaws of laughter. Her view was interrupted by a young family with several children, one of which rode on her father's shoulders. She only saw pieces of the scene as the celebratory circle broke apart and the men started shaking the losing team's hands in a show of good sportsmanship.

  "He sure is excited," Luna said.

  Tawnyetta nodded, her eyes still searching for Michael through the crowd. "It's probably a matter of pride for the castle to win at something like this." There was a pause and Tawnyetta sensed Luna looking at her. She tore her eyes away from the Tug of War victors and looked at her friend. "What?"

  "I was talking about Thomas," Luna said, amusement lifting the corners of her mouth.

  "Right." Tawnyetta flounced her short hair as much as it would flounce and turned back to look at Thomas, pretending she'd been watching him the whole time. She found him almost immediately, standing next to Michael as they both looked intently in the opposite direction of where she and Luna stood.

  Unlike her and Luna running in the race, and Thomas taking part in all of the man games, their other three friends had chosen not to work up a sweat at the Games. Angie was fascinated with the arts and crafts available at the tents and enthralled with the Celtic dancing. Bridget and Sofia were happy to wander the grounds and observe all of the activities as spectators. Tawnyetta hadn't seen Bridget and Sofia since the race had started.

  Until now.

  As she looked to where Thomas and Michael were gazing with such interest, Tawnyetta saw them. Sofia, looking exotic and sensual in a tangerine sundress, was stunning. But it was Bridget who was the picture of lush femininity today.

  In a dress Tawnyetta knew came directly from her trousseau, Bridget commanded the attention of every man, and most women, in her immediate presence and across the field. Her hair was a cascade of golden curls tumbling down her back. Her perfect Pilates body was wrapped softly in a low cut white sundress that had a tiny pink polka dot print. Fine lace curled along every edge of the dress, giving it a dreamy quality. If that wasn't enough, on top of her head of glorious blonde tresses she wore a floppy white hat. The rim of the hat fell just across her brow, perfectly framing her wide, blue eyes and full pink, pouty lips.

  At the sight of Bridget in all of her glory Tawnyetta's heart sank a little bit. Then she saw Michael nudge Thomas and nod towards Bridget. He made a comment to Thomas who responded with a nod of his own and a good-natured chuckle. Tawnyetta's heart slipped again and landed with a thump in her stomach. She felt queasy.

  "Are you all right?" Luna asked. Tawnyetta had slowed to less than a walk. "You look a little
green."

  She gave Luna what she hoped was a reassuring smile and picked up her pace. "I'm fine."

  But she wasn't fine. Not at all.

  After they finished the race, coming in dead last, they joined Bridget and the others. Tawnyetta fiercely wished she had planned ahead and brought a change of clothes. But she hadn't and was stuck trudging around in her sweaty running clothes next to the captivatingly exquisite Bridget.

  "It's the Caber Toss!" Bridget exclaimed, placing her hand on the crown of her white hat as if the thrill of watching kilted men throwing tree trunks around would blow it right off of her head.

  She wasn't wrong.

  A whole line of vigorously masculine Highlanders waited to take their turn hoisting the Caber. Testosterone was heavy in the air and Tawnyetta couldn't pretend she wasn't interested. Besides, Thomas was trying his hand at it and she told herself that she would be a bad friend if she didn't watch.

  Thomas and Michael stood just ahead, side-by-side in line with the other men. They were talking and laughing like old buddies and Tawnyetta felt another jolt of jealousy. She shook her head in disgust at this reaction. What was her problem? Nobody was allowed to speak to Michael except her? She hovered behind the others, simultaneously hoping Michael would turn her way and catch her eye and also not be able to see her in her dumpy running clothes.

  "Mister!" Bridget called out Thomas' nickname, clapping her hands as he stepped up to take his turn. He turned to them and gave them a little wave.

  "Go, Thomas!" Angie shouted.

  Tawnyetta clapped heartily along with her girlfriends for their favorite buddy. She laser focused on watching Thomas struggle to pick up the Caber and balance it. She didn't want any of them to think she was more interested in Laird MacBrody than their very own Thomas.

  "You can do it!" Tawnyetta called out to him when it looked like he was thinking about giving up.