Ewan led them back toward the Great Hall and urged Allyson to enter before him. He waited until she stood with her father and brothers before following her. Eoin joined him as they approached the three Elliot men and Allyson.
“Allyson, when are you returning to court?” Angus inquired.
“I don’t know. I hadn’t thought that far,” Allyson admitted.
“Don’t you think you should leave soon?” Graeme, the younger of the two brothers, persisted. “Don’t you miss your home and friends?”
“My home?” Allyson whispered before straightening her spine. “Court isn’t my home, but it’s the most appealing place I can think of, and that isn’t saying much.”
Allyson stepped away from her relatives, and Ewan took her arm to escort her to the dais. Eoin followed as though he were on guard, his eyes shifting to watch for anyone else who might make Allyson their target. Once seated, Ewan and Eoin shared a glance over Allyson’s head. He was in a perpetual state of shock at how blatant this hostility was to Allyson. It made no sense to him, but there had to be a reason, and he intended to discover it or take Allyson back to court.
The meal passed with little disturbance, and the twins engaged Allyson in conversation throughout it. They weren’t interested in speaking to anyone else, nor were they willing to allow Allyson to be ignored. When the dancing began, Ewan witnessed Allyson transform into the vibrant woman he remembered from court. It was the same as it had been her first night here. It appeared the Elliot clan didn’t share the laird’s family’s rejection, and several young guardsmen took turns dancing with Allyson. Ewan observed as she partnered with one man after another, some young enough to be a suitor while others were old enough to be her grandfather. She laughed with each of them, light on her feet and graceful as they swung her around.
It was Shrove Tuesday, and the last day for merriment before the solemnity of Lent began. Ewan feared without the opportunity for entertainment and lightheartedness, he wouldn’t see her smile for the next forty days.
“She’s enjoying herself,” Ewan mused. “She looks like she does at court. It amazes me, and not in the good way, that her parents and siblings can have such an effect on her personality. But I can’t blame her. I think I would be the same.”
“No, I’d be the same,” Eoin countered. “You’d have told them all to go to hell by now.”
“True. I’m ready to do that now.” Ewan turned to face his twin. “I’ve asked her to meet me in the garden tonight. I’m going to figure out whether or not we have a future. Eoin, you should have been the older twin. You’re far wiser than I am.”
"I have no interest in being the older brother. You need the voice of reason, so you’re lucky we came as a matched set.”
“Mary propositioned me yesterday, and I realized that my betrayal, if I strayed, would be even worse than her sister’s. It forced me to consider how things have unraveled in the past sennight and a half. I went from wanting to dance with Allyson that blasted day that changed all of this to dreading marriage to wanting to drag her to the kirk. I stopped to think about what this must be like from her position.”
“But I can’t imagine Mary changed your mind. She’s been eying both of us since we walked in, so what really made you alter your course?”
“I told you. If I marry Allyson, which I was never averse to, and am not faithful, that’s worse than her sister trying to bed me. She can’t pick her relatives, but she’s fighting tooth and nail to have some control over who she must marry. It terrified her and left her powerless, so she ran. You and I will never experience that. It may not have thrilled me to discover others made plans for me, and I did feel powerless, but I was never scared. We’re men; we have all the power, and that keeps us from experiencing the fear women must live with when they have no control over the decisions made for them. I’m the heir to a large clan that has influence throughout not only the Highlands but all of Scotland. Besides Father and the king, who can force my hand? No one. Not really. But who can force Allyson? Everyone. She deserves a husband committed to her, and if I won’t do that, then I have no business marrying her.”
“But you do want to marry her?”
“I do.”
“Why? Is it because she’s pretty? Because you’ve enjoyed stealing kisses?”
“I won’t deny both things are true, but I’ve had time to evaluate what I know about her. She’s brave and resourceful. She’s able to create a life for herself wherever she goes. She can endure more than most will face, and she’s come out unscathed. She may be naïve and foolish at times, but with age and support, she’ll learn the way of the world. She will make a fine lady for our clan. Even now I can tell, and that’s the position she will step into. Father may still be laird, but with Mother gone, she will be Lady Gordon for all intents and purposes.”
“I’m glad you see that at last.”
“At last? When did you figure that out?”
“When she hissed and spat at you like a trapped wildcat.”
“You might have explained this sooner, little brother.”
“You had to come to these realizations on your own.”
Ewan shot him a withering glance as he raised his mug of ale to his mouth, but he recognized Eoin was right. His brother had tried to make him realize it, but he’d remained stubborn.
Chapter Twenty
Allyson glanced behind her as she moved toward the passageway that would take her to the gardens. She stifled a groan when she spotted Alice and Laurel approaching. She had no desire for her sisters to waylay her as she attempted to meet Ewan in the gardens. Allyson assumed everyone had retired, especially Laurel, who’d already gone abovestairs to check on her children, but both women drew closer. She strained to see past their shoulders and noticed Mary sitting before the fire, watching Alice and Laurel stalk their prey.
“Where are you going, sister?” Alice purred.
“I thought to step outside for a moment. A breath of fresh air and a moment of solitude before I retire for the night.”
“Are you sure you’re not meeting a mon?” Laurel narrowed her eyes as though she might read Allyson’s thoughts.
