Highland Wedding by Hannah Howell

truly.”
    Still wary, she let him take her by the hand and help her stand. “An I get one sore toe or one bruise, ye will pay dearly, cousin.”
    “I am all atremble, cousin,” he said cheerfully as he towed her towards the other dancers.
    Iain watched her until she disappeared into the crowd of dancers. Although he did not know Dugald personally, he knew of the youth’s rather powerful, wealthy father and the size of the family. Each new revelation about the family he was now connected to by marriage was a startling one and not necessarily pleasing. It did not surprise him that the MacRoths got on well with their kin, nor that they did not boast about what were some rather illustrious connections. He wished they would, though, for he was not fond of surprises. It would suit him to know far more than he did about the MacRoths. They were a small clan but it was becoming clear that they reached far in their relations.
    “Why the frown now, Iain?” Alexander asked quietly.
    “I begin to wonder just how far and wide this family reaches that I have wed into.”
    Alexander laughed softly. “Very far, my friend. On Alaistair’s side many of his forebears married well. The women were well-known for their beauty and the families were large. His wife’s family was much akin to that. The ties of blood grow thin but they ne’er seem to break. There have been some rogues and traitors, few families escape having those, but it ne’er seems to end the ties amongst all the rest. I wouldnae be surprised if, for a righteous cause, Alaistair could pull near half of Scotland to his side. The ones that are caught up in a feud might e’en call a truce to ride to his side.”
    “Has he e’er done it?”
    “Nay, nor have any of them, I think. ’Tis not their way to ask any to shed blood in a fight that is theirs alone.”
    “The king kens all this, does he?”
    “Aye, there is little our sire misses or used to miss. His love for Alaistair is not justpolitic, however.”
    “Nay, I kenned that. I have been flung into what could be the greatest of mires.”
    “Or the best of alliances. Come, Iain, ye look for trouble where there is none. I have said all I mean to upon that. I am nay one to bang my head against a wall. Here comes your wee, fair bride and, by the look upon her bonnie face, I am thinking Dugald best take a few more lessons.”
    “I will ne’er walk again,” Islaen groaned as she sat down. “I wish I kenned who gave Dugald lessons. I would beat him.”
    “Should it not be Dugald that ye beat?” Iain asked, amusement tinting his voice.
    “Aye but he is hard to catch. The lad’s e’er been quicker on his feet than I. I have to trick him when I want revenge. Last time I tipped him into the water when we went fishing. That was for dancing all o’er my toes at my brother Colin’s wedding.”
    Gently and as subtly as he could, Iain coaxed her to talk about her family. As he had suspected there was no boasting of ties with rich or noted kin. If the names had not been familiar to him her manner of speaking of them would have told him nothing except that she knew them and, occasionally, that she might not be as fond of them as of others.
    Islaen was feeling mildly drunk when the women managed to subtly lead her away to Iain’s chambers. She heard enough, however, as she left to know that Iain’s assistants cared little about being subtle. When she finally reached Iain’s chambers she had to smile. She was not so sure that Iain would be that appreciative about the rose petals strewn over his bed. In fact, she mused as she took a deep breath, it might prove too much for her and she was rather fond of roses.
    “How could you have borne it for so long?” the queen asked as Islaen’s binding was revealed.
    Coloring slightly, Islaen murmured, “I have ne’er been without it. Nay,” she protested as they prepared to help her into her lacy night rail, “let me wash up first.”
    “But ye bathed ere ye