Bound by Wish and Mistletoe (Highland Legends #1.5)(38)
Robert helped guide her down onto the bench. “Nay, only a wee bit. You’ve a small English accent to some of your words, but much less so than Lady Isobel. We’ve all grown used to her...slang.” Robert winked across the table at Isobel.
“Ha!” Isobel replied, laughing. “I’ll have you speaking my slang in no time.”
Robert sighed. “Somethin’ we’ve all been secretly afraid of.”
They all laughed, a light-hearted atmosphere permeating the room, and she started to breathe easier. Iain began helping Isobel and himself to the food, and everyone did the same. Even Susanna had grown bolder overnight, lifting her plate without delay for servings of whatever Robert dished out for them.
In the hall’s decorated wonderland, laughter accompanied personal stories and commentary. She quietly ate beside her new husband among a clan that, for the vast majority, seemed like a protective, tight-knit family. The atmosphere was far different from any meals she’d witnessed growing up—tense and focusing on the next battle to conquer the weak or ill-deserving. Even the unwelcoming women had distanced themselves and engaged in bright banter among their friends. Perhaps Donalda was right—given time they would accept the loss of Robert.
Jovial chatter faded as a bard joined in the celebration, sitting beside the hearth, opposite the Christmas tree. He regaled them with tales of heroics in the age of King Arthur as he plucked the strings of a lyre with his right hand, his left securing it upon a knee.
The bard shared versions of the fabled adventures she’d not heard before. With the amount of good spirits in the room, that they cast stories in a brighter light didn’t surprise her. Her past, her former clan, merely happened to be darker than most, she decided. Surrounded by the protective clan, her new family, she realized she could do what she had vowed to do before this clan and God. For the first time, she began to believe that she could embrace forever with a man.
A sudden crash directly across the table snapped her attention forward. Brigid had slammed her plate down, sending her food flying across the table.
“Brigid, I feel him, too. Leave it be.” Isobel warned her friend.
Susanna looked between the two women, uncertain what the provocation was about.
“Nay.” Brigid growled and stood. “My appetite is gone.” Brigid looked at her and Robert, giving them a tight smile. “I’m verra happy for the two of you. Please ignore my irritable mood and enjoy your meal.”
Susanna’s heart clenched for Brigid when Isobel intimated the cause of her unknown distress was a him. She opened her mouth to console her, but adequate words never came as she silently watched Brigid turn and disappear down the shadowed hall. All the while, the bard sang and played his music, and everyone carried on their conversations, oblivious to the trouble at the head of their table.
“Weel, you heard her, you two. Eat,” Robert said.
Susanna turned to find Robert glancing between her and Isobel with arched brows. He waited until she put a large bite of pheasant in her mouth before his heated stare eased and he continued eating.
“Lady Isobel, tell us more of your Christmas,” Robert said.
“Oh, let’s see,” Isobel began. “My Christmas was nothing like the grandeur of what Clan Brodie now has; we had no snow. Beaches, sunshine, and buying a Christmas tree in a mall parking lot were my experiences.”
“Isa,” Iain chided. “Tell them of what an ideal Christmas would be. Embrace your inner storyteller.”
They finished their meal to Isobel’s stories of families at Christmas spending time together in celebration—much like their joyous occasion tonight—and strayed to stranger topics like carolers going door to door, Secret Santas, and something about a white elephant gift at a university. While the handful still at their end of the table talked, more than half the people in the room had taken to dancing, the bass sounds of a large drum and the chords of a lute creating a lively rhythm.
Susanna’s mind, however, lingered on all the curious things Isobel had shared. Based on the colorful descriptions, she understood carolers to be a group of bards bringing songs of cheer to people’s homes, and Secret Santas was a game of gifts where the identity of the giver was unknown. She had no idea what a mall parking lot was, or a university, or...
“What is an elephant?” Susanna asked, glancing beyond Isobel’s shoulder at a dancing couple who swung wildly around and around to the squealing lass’s delight.
Isobel’s brow furrowed. “Oh,” she said quietly. Isobel glanced at Iain as her mouth fell open, wordlessly.
“Doona look at me, Isa. You started this Christmas affair. ’Tis all on you,” Iain said, smirking.
“Well, a white elephant gift is what we call it when—” Isobel’s eyes dropped to the table. She stared at the heavily grained wood before lifting to meet her gaze again “—we play a game with presents...”
“And an elephant?” Susanna asked again.
Iain chuckled.
Isobel sighed. “It’s a very large animal...from another continent...ah...country.”
“Bigger than a bear?” Robert asked.
“Yes. Bigger than a bear,” Isobel replied. “It stands taller than two bears atop one another and is about the size of six or seven bears put together.”
“Och, you jest!” Robert said.