Highland Spitfire (19 page)

Ailis shook her head to dispel the image his words evoked.

“Nae, ye did nae bring me here,” Ailis conceded, keeping her comments confined to
the more important matters, such as doing her best not to make an enemy of a man who
was going to dodge her footsteps whether she liked it or not. “Is it the kitchens
ye wish to go to?”

His face brightened. “Aye.”

“Well then.” She walked through the door. “I suppose I can eat there as well as here.”

Finley fingered his beard for a moment. “Ask ye?”

He was watching her, seeing what she’d make of his question. Ailis nodded on her way
past him.

“This is to be me home, Finley. I do nae intend to be difficult about settling into
me proper place.”

She stressed the word “proper” just a bit. It wasn’t lost on her escort. His expression
tightened, but she continued on down the stairs, not insisting on a formal agreement
from him. He’d likely see that as treason, since she was a Robertson. It was certainly
going to be a delicate thing, settling in.

But at the base of the stairs, she paused. Shamus was already at the high table. He
caught sight of her and raised his hand in her direction.

“Come here, lass.”

She couldn’t very well ignore him. Finley groaned but followed her.

“Off with ye, lad,” Shamus said with a gesture of his hand. “I’m still young enough
at heart to want to have such a fetching lass to meself. Besides, there are plenty
here to look after her if she wanders.”

Finley considered the retainers watching his laird. He nodded and pulled on the corner
of his bonnet before making haste toward the passageway. The retainer’s hesitation
sent a little chill through her, one that was familiar.

Shamus was clearly getting old. He might still be laird, but the MacPherson retainers
answered to Bhaic and Marcus now.

Her father was in a similar condition.

“Sit with me.”

For all his age, there was still a keen mind inside of Shamus MacPherson. Ailis caught
hint of a calculating flicker in his eyes as a retainer pulled one of the huge chairs
out for her.

“Eat something. I understand ye have put in a full day.” Once more, Shamus was proving
he wasn’t as withered by time as his wrinkled face suggested.

No one waited for her to decide if she wanted to eat. Serving girls and younger lads
who attended the head table began to fill her plate and goblet. It was done in a flurry
of motion before they retreated to the back of the high ground. They watched those
who were dining, waiting for any indication their services were needed.

“Do ye plan to call out me Head of House tonight?”

Ailis had taken a bite of bread. Shamus had spoken while looking straight ahead, and
kept his voice low to keep the conversation private. Ailis shook her head.

“Why no’?” Shamus tilted his head to the side and looked at her.

Ailis swallowed. “Because I’d surely be a fool if I thought this union was going to
be simple.”

He considered her for a long moment. “’Tis yer right.”

Three little words had never had such impact. They were certainly better than any
words of welcome might have been. Those salutations she might have doubted. Her father’s
most hated enemy agreeing that she had cause to cry for judgment against one of his
own? Well, that was a victory. One she’d best handle with care.

“I expect it to take time. Me being accepted here.”

Shamus grunted. “Ye might just make a fine lady of this hall. I can see the making
of such in ye.” He reached under the table and boldly slapped the top of her thigh.

She jumped and witnessed a wicked flicker of enjoyment appear in his eyes. The same
blue eyes that Bhaic had.

“Eat something, lass. I can nae have yer father saying I starve ye.”

Because of the evening court, supper was being served more informally. The center
of the hall was already cleared and ready for those clansmen who wanted to bring issues
before their laird for judgment. Retainers were eating on tables along the side of
the great hall, but most of them had gone outside into the yard. There was a buzz
of conversation coming through the open doors.

But men started coming into the open doorway to peer at her sitting there with their
laird. They stroked their beards and leaned in to discuss it with their companions.

Shamus grunted after a while. “I needs prepare, lass.”

“Thank you.”

She stood when he did, lowering herself before she turned and headed back up the stairs.

“Well now…” Helen joined her. “There will be talk a plenty about that.”

* * *

There were pipers at the manorial court.

Ailis enjoyed the sound of the music as she came down the stairs. The candles were
all lit tonight, flickering above the hall in huge chandeliers held with ropes through
pulleys, so they might be lowered and the candles replaced. There were also several
standing candelabra to add more light. The scent of beeswax and smoke floated through
the hall.

The hall was full. Men talked in hushed tones as they waited for the laird to take
his place. The table was pushed back on the high ground, and three of the large chairs
moved forward. No one was jesting tonight. There was clearly business to attend to.

Marcus was there, obviously recently groomed for the occasion. His plaid was secured
with a costly brooch tonight, and there was a matching one on his bonnet. He was standing
on the high ground, watching the passageway she appeared in.

“Mistress Duana.”

The Head of House jumped when Marcus addressed her.

“Me brother is wed,” Marcus continued as those waiting for the court watched. “Ye
seem to have forgotten to direct yer staff to set a chair for yer new mistress.”

The hall suddenly went silent.

Ailis was certain the color was draining from her face. Marcus kept his stare on the
Head of House.

“Forgive me,” Duana said at last. She snapped her fingers at two serving boys, but
the chair was far too heavy for them.

Finley scoffed at them and climbed to the high ground. “In a few more years, lads.”

He picked up the chair and set it off to the side, one pace back from the other three,
in the position for the mistress of the castle.

The pipers began to play, signaling the beginning of the evening. Shamus started walking
down the main aisle with Bhaic behind him.

How many times had she watched her father do the same?

She was suddenly homesick, but at the same time, enjoying the familiar sight that
helped her confirm she wasn’t so very far from home. Shamus settled in his chair before
Bhaic turned and offered her his hand.

He was a handsome brute tonight. His chin freshly shaved and his dark hair shiny from
a recent washing. It was combed back, the tips of it just brushing his shoulders.
His bonnet sported ceremonial feathers for the occasion. They were larger and fixed
to his bonnet with a gold brooch. She felt disheveled, her gown grubby after so many
days in it. She was also dressed like a girl, not the lady of the house. Clothing
that had seemed stuffy just a few months ago now appealed to her. But there was nothing
for it. She moved forward, trying to recall all the advice her nurse had instilled
in her.

Chin always level.

Expression pleasing, yet serene.

Hips controlled so the skirts didn’t sway.

Hands folded neatly into one another and held at the waist.

It was exhausting.

She laid her hand in Bhaic’s, and he led her to her spot.

The pipers played again, signaling a beginning to the court.

But Ailis was pretty sure everyone was looking straight at her.

Well, let them. She wasn’t going anywhere.

* * *

He’d promised to wait for her.

Bhaic looked out over the land bridge that connected the castle to the main land.
Everyone had settled down for the remainder of the night, the camp that had formed
in the yard quiet now. The sentries were on the walls, slowly walking back and forth
to keep themselves warm and alert. The view from his chamber often eased his mind,
allowing him to see that the castle was secure, so that he might relax and sleep.
Tonight, it wasn’t affecting him that way. The reason was clear, and one floor below
him.

He didn’t want to wait.

But for all he knew, she’d come up to him, and he hadn’t been there. He couldn’t leave
the hall until his father did, and his father didn’t have anything enticing waiting
in his bed.

Bhaic grinned, the fire in the hearth behind him making his reflection show in the
windowpanes. He turned around and looked at his chambers. They’d always been his sanctuary.
The one place he didn’t have to share.

Tonight, they felt empty.

Well, he’d asked her to come to him. That wasn’t the same as promising her he wouldn’t
seek her out.

Ye’ll wait.

He scoffed at his own reprimand, but turned and pulled off his shirt.

Aye, he would wait, because if he didn’t, he’d never know if she truly wanted him.
He’d never realized what a burden it would be to have a dutiful wife. It was surprising
to find himself reluctant to take advantage of the rights the law afforded him.

He didn’t want her that way.

The memory of her sitting on the edge of the bed in their bridal chamber roused only
his temper.

He’d never had a woman who didn’t want him, and the few who had sought him out with
schemes brewing behind their smiles were the ones he felt only contempt for.

The memory of the stable made him grin.

It also stirred his member.

He turned away from the door.

Aye, ye’ll wait…

Ailis would be worth it.

* * *

The bells along the walls started ringing at noon. It was a frantic call to arms.
Ailis came out of the kitchen storeroom, along with the rest of the women. Retainers
flooded the walls of the castle, some of them loading black-powder muskets.

Marcus was mounting his horse, the animal dancing in a circle in response to the flurry
of activity in the yard. He spun around and then turned back to look at her.

“Get yer charge inside the keep and make sure she stays there,” he ordered Finley.

Bhaic was already riding out of the gate, MacPherson retainers close on his heels.
The sound of hooves was deafening. Fear pierced her heart.

Was it Lye Rob Gordon?

Perhaps another clan that had a feud with the MacPhersons?

There was no way to know. Her only option was to wait.

“Come along, mistress,” Finley admonished her. “Do nae make me pick ye up.”

She’d forgotten about her ever-diligent escort. Today it was Finley and Skene. They
were frowning, and started walking toward her. She must move or be run over.

They forced her up into the keep with their arms spread wide. She turned around when
she made it there, picking up her skirts and hurrying up the stairs to her chambers.

“Where are ye going, woman?”

She didn’t pay Finley any mind, but went to the windows to see if she could see anything.
Her chambers faced out over the lake, frustrating her.

Well, Bhaic’s chamber overlooked the land bridge so he might keep an eye on anyone
approaching the castle. She brushed past Finley as he gained the landing outside her
chambers and headed up to the fourth floor.

“What’s got into ye, woman?”

She only hesitated for a moment before opening the door and pushing it in. A tiny
shiver crossed her skin as she strode into Bhaic’s domain. She went across the receiving
room and stood at the window. In the distance, she could see the MacPherson retainers.
Marcus and Bhaic marked by pennant bearers behind them.

What made her gasp was the sight of her father’s pennant flying. Her brother Duncan
was riding with him too. Her blood ran cold, horror nearly choking her.

Stop! Ye do nae know why they are here.

That was true enough. She watched them as time crawled past. At last, the MacPhersons
turned and stared heading back into the castle. Ailis felt her jaw drop as her father
and brother followed.

Robertsons riding into the MacPherson castle.

She had to see it with her own eyes.

Still, she had to blink and force herself to believe what was right before her.

She dashed past Finley and Skene, holding up her skirts as she charged down the stairs.

“Now just wait for us!” She was already on the first floor by the time Finley’s voice
came down the tower to her. She ended up in the huge double doorway of the keep, panting
from running, before Lyel stepped into her path and stopped her like a wall. She ran
right into him and bounced back.

“Ye’ll be staying here, mistress,” he told her sternly.

Finley and Skene came barreling up behind her. They reached out and grabbed her arms.

“Are ye mad?” she hissed at them.

“Marcus’s orders…”

She drew in a deep breath and made sure her tone was civil. She looked at Finley,
trying to draw on the trust she’d been building with him.

“Me father is riding through the gate,” she informed him smoothly. “Do ye really care
to have him seeing ye yanking me about like a goat? Or for me to be nowhere in sight,
so he can imagine the worst about me circumstances? Three generations of feud will
likely take his thoughts to a very dark place.”

“Yer father?”

Ailis jerked her head toward the gate.

Finley looked up, his eyebrows rising at the sight of Robertsons filling the yard.

“Fuck me,” he muttered.

He wasn’t the only one cussing. Or crossing themselves. MacPherson retainers hissed
at the women to get back, but some of them were too frozen with shock to move. Her
brother cleared the gate and found her. Duncan had the family blond hair, but his
eyes were a light green color. His expression was stern as he swept her from head
to toe. He was off his horse and moving up the stairs to stand in front of her before
she really accepted that her kin were there.