Across a Dark Highland Shore (Hot Highlands Romance book 2)
“Ye vex me so. But we ha’e no musicians, so we will ha’e to imagine the music.”
“Ha’e ye e’er danced with a man, Isobel?”
“I ken ‘tis hard for ye to imagine a man asking me to dance, but yea, I danced, once or twice. And many times during the festivals I would watch my mum dance, when she thought I was sleeping. When she danced with Brodie, my father, ‘twas one of the few times I remember her being truly happy. Brodie’s wife was a miserable, wretched woman who ne’er attended any of the festivals herself. She felt them beneath her. She chose to be a hateful, bitter person. I didna expect any kindness from her, but she treated her own daughters the same hateful way.”
“Tell me of a night when yer father and mother danced,” he said gently.
“We were in a wide glen. There was a great bonfire and fiddles were playing. The light of the campfire glowed on the faces of the women, men, and children.
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