by Sara Logan
Christina gulped, feeling like a little girl in a homemade dress arriving at a party where all the other children were beautifully dressed. Then her thoughts were distracted by the sudden painful awareness of Alex's hand on her arm, in a grip he seemed unaware of tightening as he coolly greeted his cousin and Lorna. A swift glance at his face told Christina that she had not been overimaginative in feeling that some strong emotion entered the air whenever these two met.
Rory beamed at her and pulled out the chair by his side. "Alex," he said, "let Chris sit by me."
The hand tightened fractionally on Christina's arm and was then removed. "If you promise me I can trust you with her," Alex said lightly, allowing Rory to seat Christina.
Rory laughed delightedly. "I suppose you can, what with my wife sitting there watching me! Besides, if I can trust Lorna to you, you can trust Chris to me. That's only fair."
Alex took the chair beside Lorna and a wintry smile touched his firm lips. "Then we can both relax because you can certainly trust me."
Christina, settling her skirt comfortably, glanced up sharply at the hard tone of his voice and looked curiously at Lorna. A slight blush had touched her magnificent high cheekbones and a glitter added brilliance to the dark eyes. Lorna's voice was dulcet, however, as she murmured, "I consider that an insult, Alex."
He shot a hard glance at her. "Yes, I suppose you do. Rory," he said, turning back to his cousin, "how did you like the games?"
The tension eased as Rory launched into a glowing tribute to the organizers, participants, and spectators, and then he began discussing with Christina how surprised he had been to discover so many Scottish-Americans who wanted to maintain their ties to the land of their ancestors' birth. While Christina listened to him, she was aware of the low-voiced conversation going on between Lorna and Alex. Lorna was protesting something and Alex was being calmly soothing, but Christina couldn't quite catch enough of what they were saying to understand what it was about. Then they were interrupted by the arrival of the waiter with menus, and Christina found herself relaxing for the first time as they discussed what to order.
For the remainder of the meal, Lorna made a strenuous effort to monopolize Alex, to the point that even good-natured Rory laughingly protested and reminded his wife that they could discuss old friends and family ties any time. His troubled gaze lingered on his wife's face for a long moment before shifting back to his guest.
For her part, Christina couldn't dismiss the notion that she was sitting on a live volcano that was likely to erupt at any moment. After Rory's reprimand, Lorna lapsed into sulky silence, contenting herself with alternating her intent, cold gaze between Christina's face and Alex's. She listened carefully to every word either of them said, and her lush red mouth tightened into a straight line when Alex began teasing Christina about taking advantage of his inexperience with Southern cuisine and forcing him to eat things like grits. Now that he knew, he added, his dark eyes sparkling with amusement, he would not let her get away with that again!
Christina retorted lightly and with humor, and the atmosphere eased as they finished their dessert. Christina supped away to the ladies' room to freshen her makeup and braced herself when she realized that Lorna had followed her.
Lorna sat on the ornate satin-covered stool and delicately powdered her slim nose. Then she asked coolly, "How long have you known Alex, Christina?"
"We've dealt with Stewart's for years," Christina murmured evasively, touching up her lipstick and determined not to tell Lorna anything about her short acquaintance with Alex.
"He's very attractive, isn't he?"
Christina nodded. "Very."
Lorna shot a glance at her. "Very wealthy, too, but I suppose you know that."
Christina dropped her lipstick into her evening bag, feeling sudden resentment rise within her at this comment, and kept her face and voice composed by a strong effort of will. "Is he? Yes, I suppose he is. I hadn't given it any thought."
Lorna gave her a long, disbelieving stare and tucked back a gleaming black curl that had slipped forward. "If you say so," she murmured, making it clear she didn't believe a word of it.
"I gather you've known both Alex and Rory a long time. I think Alex said you all grew up together," Christina said, determined to carry the war into the other woman's camp.
"I know Alexander Stewart very well," the smooth voice said. Lorna turned and looked at Christina, a slight smile touching her red lips.
Christina's hand tightened on her evening bag. Lorna had implied considerably more than the knowledge of two children growing up together, and Christina didn't like the implication. In fact, she was surprised by the instant revulsion she felt, and her gaze met and held the hard gaze of the other woman for a long moment. Then Christina straightened her shoulders, tucked back an unruly curl, and swept to the door. Her trembling hand resting on the doorknob, she turned back, keeping her face calm and her voice clear and cool. "I imagine a lot of women have known Alex well, but one notices that he didn't marry any of them. If you will excuse me… ?" She pulled open the door before Lorna could say a word and made her escape past the crowded tables to where Alex and Rory waited.
Alex sent her an intent, questioning look, but Christina ignored it. She smiled at Rory and admitted that she was ready to leave for the dance, felt the atmosphere tighten again when Lorna reached the table, and enjoyed a moment of triumph when Alex refused to agree to Lorna's demand that they all go in one car to the dance. He said he and Christina would follow in Christina's car. He then slid his arm around her waist, bestowed a warning look on Lorna, and assured Rory that, since Christina was bound to be the belle of the ball, his only chance to have any time alone with her would be on the trip to the ball and the return drive to the Lodge. This remark, flattering though it was, did nothing to reassure Christina, who was beginning to realize that she was being used as a pawn in a game whose rules she did not know.
Leaving Rory smiling warmly and agreeing gallantly and Lorna's dark eyes glittering dangerously, Alex ushered a silent Christina out of the club and into the car. Christina was beginning to have the horrible thought that if Alex was acting as her camouflage then she was also being used as his … to hide his relationship with Lorna, whatever it might be, from Rory. She couldn't quite bring herself to admit that Alex was responding to Lorna's ambiguous remarks, but the very fact that she was making them was enough evidence for Christina to think there was some foundation for them. She decided grimly that all men were alike, not to be trusted… and she regretfully added Alexander Stewart's name to the list.
Christina settled herself beside him and yearned for a magic wand so that she could wish this evening safely over and herself back in her room at the Lodge. In fact, if she had a choice she would have liked the entire weekend to be ended and herself with Gramps, on the back porch, discussing trivialities. She knew that it was Lorna who was spoiling the occasion for her, but there seemed to be little or nothing she could do about it. The magic wand was not forthcoming, however, so she straightened her shoulders and told herself firmly that the tartan ball was an occasion and she intended to have fun, and nobody and nothing was going to deprive her of it.
The ballroom at the country club was rich with color and sound. Tables were set up on three sides of the room, with a slightly raised platform on the fourth side where a band was playing traditional Scottish music.
Christina, a little breathless from being on the dance floor for every dance, was grateful to sit down at the table and sip her drink. She had seen many old friends and they had each claimed a dance. As she looked around the room, she was reminded of nature's example of inequality in the matter of peacocks. The splendid male strutted in his glory and the drab little hen was completely eclipsed by her mate.
Tonight it was the men, those wearing the traditional Highland evening attire, who took the eye. Christina ran her eyes over Alex, who was standing across the dance floor talking to a middle-aged couple. His broad shoulders were nicely set
off by the black velvet doublet he wore. Dazzling white lace spilled from his throat and cuffs, making a striking contrast with his darkly tanned skin. His dress kilt just touched the bottom of his knees, where it was almost met by the silk tartan stockings that were secured by the traditional satin garters. His evening sporran, or leather pouch, suspended around his lean hips, was of the finest black calfskin, trimmed with silver tassels. Even from this distance she could see the hilt of his dress dirk jutting from his belt. When she had asked him about it earlier, he had said, "It's very old, Chris. It's been in the family for generations."
"It looks valuable."
He had shrugged. "To us it is, and it does have a silver hilt and those are rubies and emeralds. I suppose it is valuable."
Christina sighed, thinking that there was little in the way of conventional masculine dress that could compare with the sheer magnificence of the Highland attire. The men wearing tuxedos faded to a shadow beside that striking blaze of color and masculinity.
The ladies' light-colored dresses, some in white, as was Christina's, with their silk tartan sashes secured on the shoulder with clan crests, provided the perfect background for those peacocks' glorious plumage. Alex was, in fact, attracting a good bit of attention. Not only was he outrageously good-looking, she thought ruefully, he was one of the few men in the room who was correctly dressed in the full evening attire. Others, possessing only a single kilt and tweed jacket, were making do with dark blazers and their daytime kilt, sporran, and stockings. Still others, not having quite the nerve to rig themselves out in the full outfit at all, were wearing tartan jackets and dark trousers, white shirts, and the required black tie. But Alex and Rory seemed totally unconscious of any feeling of being rigged out in a costume. Christina knew men, like James, who were uncomfortable so dressed. They wore their national dress, but uneasily, self-consciously. Alex and Rory, and the other Scottish dignitaries present, wore theirs as to the manor born. To them, it wasn't fancy dress or a costume, but something perfectly natural and ordinary. Christina looked at the arrogant tilt of that dark head, the confident way he held himself, and felt a shiver of emotion run through her very being. Whatever else Alexander Stewart might be, he was not a shrinking violet!
"My dear, that young man of yours is simply marvelous," an elderly woman at the next table remarked, sighing loudly.
Christina agreed and smiled at her, amused at such heartfelt admiration.
"He's exactly the type you picture when you're reading those historical books, don't you know?"
"A swashbuckler, in fact," Christina murmured, turning a thoughtful look back to her escort, who was unaware of being discussed. "Yes," she said, "I see what you mean."
"Like Errol Flynn," the old lady pursued. She looked doubtfully at Christina. "You do know who he was, don't you, dear?"
"I certainly do, and I agree with you." Christina was a late-movie fan and had long and secretly been in love with Errol Flynn.
"And he's a real Scottish lord, I understand. Dear me, you are lucky!"
"I'm beginning to think so myself," Christina murmured. Up until now, she suddenly realized, she had been so involved with her own problems and miseries that she had not really looked at the man who had escorted her here tonight. Now, seeing him through the admiring old lady's eyes, she blinked in astonishment. Heavens, she thought, he is quite something! I knew that he was good-looking and had a devastating brand of charm, but I had entirely overlooked that inborn arrogance and pride that make it obvious to the world that he is a somebody!
As she watched she saw Lorna move through the crowd until she reached Alex's side. Heads turned to look at the countess of Auldern as she slipped her hand under Alex's arm and briefly leaned her head against his shoulder. Even from where she sat, Christina could see Alex's back stiffen and his slight movement away from the woman leaning so possessively at his side.
What was Lorna doing? Christina wondered, following the action of the little tableau across the room. As soon as Rory and Lorna had arrived at the dance, Lorna had made every effort to stay close to Alex. The evening began to assume the aspect of a trial of nerves for Christina as it was borne in on her once again that while Alex might be acting as a deterrent to James's attentions to her, she was also providing Alex with protection from Lorna! He had kept his arm around her, had occasionally called her darling, in a warm, tender voice, and had let his reluctance show every time she left his side to dance with another man. But Christina was no longer sure whose benefit this little performance was for: James's or Lorna's. As the evening progressed, at a snail's pace it seemed to Christina, Lorna's pout deepened as she was skillfully removed from Alex's side time and time again… by Alex himself. Why she was making such a play for her husband's cousin, Christina did not know, but she was well aware that Rory had noticed and was watching the three of them with uneasiness and bewilderment.
Christina had seen the worried expression vanish from Rory's eyes during her last dance with Alex when he had drawn her very close and rested his cheek against the top of her head. Such a public display of affection might have lightened Rory's worry, but it had only made Christina wonder more than ever.
She was so intent on watching the couple across the room that she didn't hear herself being addressed until a rather ungentle hand grasped her elbow.
"Chrissy! I've spoken to you twice!"
"I'm sorry, James; I was admiring the dancers," Christina explained, turning to her ex-fiancé with reluctance.
"You've been avoiding me," he muttered, and she drew back from his whiskey-laden breath.
"No, I haven't. Are you and Monica enjoying yourselves?"
He scowled and ignored her question. "It's clear enough that you are. Chrissy, what are you playing at? And what does your grandfather think he's doing to let you come off with that fellow alone? Or does your grandfather even know he's here with you?"
He was interrupted by a burst of music as the band began to play an old-fashioned waltz. "Blast! We can't talk here. Come on; dance with me."
He grasped her arm and pulled her out of the chair. She tried to draw back. "I'm already promised for this dance," she said, with something less than the truth. Where was Alex? "James, you're hurting me!"
"So? You're going to dance with me…"
A firm hand caught James's arm and he released Christina. "This is my dance, I believe," Rory MacRae said, putting his arm about Christina's waist and moving her toward the dance floor. James took a step forward, met those cool blue eyes, and stopped, scowling. Rory took advantage of the pause and instantly swept her into the dance, looking down at her, his eyes twinkling. "I do hope you wanted to be rescued, Christina? I gathered that fellow was annoying you… ?"
"He was indeed! Thanks, Rory, I do appreciate it. He's someone from home that I know, and I think he's had too much to drink."
Rory nodded in agreement. "It's a good thing Alex didn't see him," Rory teased, looking around the dance floor.
A slight flush touched Christina's cheeks and she contented herself with a nod. Rory chuckled.
"I often tell him he's a throwback to our less civilized ancestors," Rory added, enjoying her confusion. "He would probably have knocked the fellow flat, and we couldn't have that here, could we? Where is the laddie, by the way?"
Christina looked past Rory's shoulder. "Dancing with Lorna, over there. She's very beautiful."
Rory swung her around until he could see them and agreed. "Aye, very beautiful, and they make a striking couple, don't they? You know, don't you, that they nearly were a couple?"
Her surprised gaze flashed to his face, and he nodded soberly.
"It's true… they were engaged for nearly a year."
"I… see." she said slowly.
"Then they broke it off and, well, I married her. The thing is, Christina, I'm so glad he's found you. I mean, ever since they broke it off and Lorna married me, Alex has been… well, I don't know… withdrawn, perhaps. He's taken out girls but until now didn't seem very int
erested in them. It made things quite awkward, you see. We're not only cousins but very close friends, and we've seen very little of him this last year. Now," he added, beaming at her, "things might be different."
Christina's blush deepened and she stumbled. "But, Rory," she stammered, "I don't think… I mean…"
He chuckled. "I know I'm embarrassing you, my dear, and that nothing is settled. Too early yet, eh? But if you knew him as I do, you'd realize that he's very much interested. And I'm glad to see it," he admitted frankly. "I was afraid… well, it seems that I worried about it for nothing, doesn't it? I wasn't sure he was over Lorna, you see. She broke the engagement—why I don't really know—but I do know that afterwards Alex withdrew. I haven't seen him behaving like his old self since… until today, actually. So, blushes or not, I have to tell you how pleased I am and how much we'll all enjoy having you in the family."
Christina could find no answer to that. She couldn't tell Rory that it was all a sham, a pretense, that Alex wasn't in love with her, that he hadn't recovered from Lorna… Christina bit her lip. It explained so much! She could understand now why he seemed so wary around Lorna: he had been in love—might still be in love—with his cousin's wife! And Lorna? What game was she playing? She had broken the engagement, yet here she was, making a dead set at Alex in front of Rory and the girl they were all thinking was Alex's new girlfriend! Did Lorna regret losing Alex and want him back? Or was she just being a dog in the manger? She couldn't have him now, but maybe she didn't want anyone else to have him either. Whatever the reason, the situation made Christina uneasy. More than ever, she felt as if she were sitting on a live volcano.