Bound by Wish and Mistletoe (Highland Legends #1.5)(22)
Savory and sweet scents wafted up, making her mouth water. She lifted her provided two-pronged fork, twirling it between her fingers as she stared at the pile of food. “Robert, you’ve clearly mistaken my size. How am I to eat all this?”
He paused, sliding a peacock leg beside stewed kale on his plate. “Like we all do, Susanna: one bite at a time.” Roars of laughter ignited on their end of the table at his loud remark, and she burst out laughing along with them.
“I shall do my best,” she replied, snorting despite trying her damnedest not to.
Isobel smirked, glancing at Robert. “It’s a plan to help himself to more food without looking like a pig.” Isobel winked at her.
“’Twas not a plan, but should the lass not finish her plate, I’d be most happy to assist,” Robert replied, his tone sober.
Susanna began eating, carefully chewing and savoring each bite. Conversations erupted all around her on topics ranging from the newest sword the smithy had crafted to the amount of snowfall they’d received over the last two days. The talk eventually shifted to the mysterious tree Robert’s men had brought back from the forest.
“Well, gather around and see for yourself what the tree is all about.” Isobel pressed her palms onto the edge of the table, attempting to stand. Iain shot behind her and assisted his wife, who smiled up at him, taking his aid with grace.
Benches and stools were moved from the tables and brought closer to the hearth. Piled under the lush pine tree were small objects of all shapes, wrapped in linen and tied with bright jewel-colored ribbons. The packages were neatly stacked upon a crimson and dark-green cloth bearing tiny designs embroidered in gold thread that glittered in the firelight. Isobel pulled her husband by the hand to a wide armchair nearest the tree.
Susanna hesitated, hovering near the outside edge of everyone, uncertain where to go. Robert gave her a gentle push toward another large, carved-wood armchair. He dropped onto the seat, yanking her down with him.
“Robert!” She gasped in surprise as she toppled into his lap. The second her bottom hit his hard thighs, she struggled to get up, but he banded his arms around her, and no amount of effort allowed her freedom from the compromising position.
He winced. “Easy, lass. You’ll rip open the stitches in my side.”
Her mouth fell open, then she shut it. “Doona take liberties not offered.”
“I dinna take, Susanna. I gave you a seat.” Robert smirked at her, a glint of mischief glimmering in his eyes.
“Fine,” she huffed. “Keep your hands still, and I shall accept your offer.” Her voice softened as she thought of his injury. “Does it hurt much?”
He tipped his head, gazing at her for a long moment. “Aye, it hurts a great deal. But I’d suffer the pain of a thousand sword strikes to have you safely in my arms.”
Her skin flushed over her entire body, the warmest weight pressing heavy within her chest. “Thank you, Robert. I hope you never have to endure another scratch for me again. But...”
“What is it, Susanna?”
She sucked a slow breath through pursed lips, trying to calm a dark, unbidden panic creeping in from the fringes of her mind. “We let Dougal escape, and my father will stop at nothin’ to force me to his will. While I’m here, I endanger you. I’m a risk to everyone here.”
Robert tightened his embrace until she could hardly breathe, then loosened his hold. “Doona worry about your father or Dougal. No matter how they’ve threatened you, within these walls, you’re under the shelter of my clan. Above all, you’re protected by me.”
She shook her head, unable to fathom mere walls keeping a beast like her father out. Tales of his astounding victories whispered into her memories like they had through Clan MacEalan’s great hall. “You doona know what he’s capable of.”
“’Tis no matter, Susanna, for I know what I’m capable of. Abandon your worry. Let me handle anythin’ threatenin’ to harm you. Agreed?”
Susanna reluctantly nodded, even though neither the action nor his words did anything to allay her fears.
An echoing high-noted ring interrupted their conversation. Isobel stood next to the tree with a delicate metal bell in one hand and an ornately carved, ivory-handled dagger in the other.
“Thank you everyone for joining in our festivities for tonight. Where I come from we celebrate the birth of Jesus Christ in church—with our religious celebrations—and through a tradition we call Christmas. Christmas is a time where gifts are given to the ones we love to bring smiles to their faces and warmth into their hearts. Those gifts are called presents and are hidden beneath wrapping paper, adorned with ribbons, and placed under a tree.
“Tonight, we decorate the first Brodie Christmas tree. Each of you may have wondered about the specific favor I asked of you—for a tiny treasure to be crafted. Tonight, you’ll each open the gift you created and hang them on a branch. They’re called ornaments.”
Isobel took a thin golden ribbon, looped it through the top of the small bell, and hung it from a branch in the middle of the tree. The weight of the metal dropped the branch a few inches. Susanna stared at the bell, watching it shine from the light of the fire as it gently swayed before settling. Amazed by the beauty of an event she’d become lucky enough to take part in, she glanced around and found everyone else watching with the same rapt interest.