Margot tipped up her forgotten tankard of ale and drank to quench her thirst, then set it down with a thud on the table and stood. He thought she ought to acquaint herself, did he? She spotted Reverend Gale across the room. She picked up her skirts and marched across to him.

Reverend Gale was startled by her sudden appearance at his elbow. “Lady Mackenzie,” he said, his face full of concern.

“I beg your pardon, Reverend Gale, but will you dance with me?”

“What?”

“Dance,” she said again. “I know I am a wretched dancer, and I shall do my best not to kick you. But I should very much like to dance.”

“Oh. Ah...” He glanced around as if looking for an escape. But finding none, he sighed softly and put aside his tankard of ale. “Aye, milady,” he said, and held out his arm to her.

After what seemed like hours, when Margot could no longer feel her feet, she made a point of saying good-night to every Mackenzie in that hall who would allow it. Before, she would have been undone by so many indifferent expressions and uncertain glances, but tonight, she was quite pleased that the number who would address her at all had grown.

She made her way to the master’s chambers feeling defiant. She knew what Arran was doing. He was deliberately putting her through her paces. He wanted to punish her for having left him, any fool could see that. She had taken up his challenge. She had talked to whoever would listen, had danced with every man she could catch unawares.

He thought he could humiliate her into leaving, did he? Well, he would not be so fortunate. She was most certainly not the same young woman who had come here so long ago.

Margot entered her sitting room and called for Nell. Her maid appeared from the dressing room and gasped when she saw her. “What happened?”

“What happened? I shall tell you what happened. I danced,” she said, kicking off the offending shoes from her aching feet. She plopped down onto an ottoman, reached for a foot and began to knead it. “Have you been here all night?” she asked Nell.

“No, mu’um,” Nell said as she picked up Margot’s discarded shoes. “I went down to the kitchens, and I was having a lovely chat with one of the kitchen maids, but that ox interrupted.”

“Jock? What was he doing in the kitchens?” Margot asked curiously.

“I hardly know. He seems to follow me about,” Nell said angrily. “Shall I bring your nightgown?”

“No. I mean to wash my hands and then go and speak to my husband,” Margot said firmly.

After she’d cleaned herself up, she allowed Nell to repair parts of her hair that had come undone. She dabbed perfume behind her ears and then went into the master’s chamber.