She paused, the memory of his kisses flickering through her mind. Her cheeks heated with the sudden rush of blood, making her feel dizzy, and she took another sip of water.
“I heard—” she whispered, “nay, Irememberyou caring for me.” She stared with marked intent at the square of stone flagging right in front of Duncan’s booted feet. “It was kind of you, and I thank you for it.”
Duncan remained silent, and Aileana felt tingles of unease dance across her skin. She didn’t dare look at him. When she finally glanced up, she saw a stricken look in place of the pompous arrogance she’d expected. Yet in the blink of an eye he shuttered the expression in favor of a calm, level gaze.
“What I did was nothing I wouldn’t have done for anyone under my personal responsibility.”
Aileana’s stomach tightened and she resisted the urge to touch her swollen lips again. What he said couldn’t be true. She remembered, she’dfelthis passionate tenderness after her fever broke.
Unless she’d been dreaming.
But then why did her lips feel as if they’d been kissed? Why did she recall the sweet, silken pressure of his mouth, the warmth of his breath against her cheek?
“I thought…” She swallowed and tried to focus her cloudy mind. “I thought that there was more. That it wasn’t just—”
“It was nothing.” Duncan’s face looked gray, and he turned his back on her to pace toward the windows while he continued talking. “Plague fevers are known for the delirium they can cause.” He spun on his heel to face her again, though he wouldn’t meet her gaze. “Bridgid will be up soon. Eat and then rest. I’ll be checking on you later.”
Aileana forced herself to remain silent as he left the room. Hurt and confusion sliced deep, compounding the weariness she already felt. Ignoring the lump in her throat, she rolled to her side and pulled the coverlet over her shoulder. Something was wrong. The way Duncan acted just now didn’t fit. Not with what she remembered.
Her body shook with a shuddering sigh, weariness weighing her down too much to think on it more. When she closed her eyes, welling tears spilled warm onto her cheeks, and she brushed them away quickly. But it wasn’t until many hours later that she finally fell into exhausted, troubled slumber.
Chapter 12
Kinnon tossed back the remainder of his ale and wiped his mouth. The sounds of the feasting going on around him in the great hall had risen until the din was almost deafening. Now that the outbreak of plague seemed to have died down, the need to celebrate life had burned strong. With that in mind, a contingent of MacKenzies had arrived three days ago, with a score of men and as many women, and the revelry had increased every night since.
Leaning back against the wall, he looked around the gathering before letting his gaze settle on Duncan. Though his cousin mingled with the company, he seemed none too pleased at the attentions Nora MacKenzie had been lavishing on him all night. The woman had survived her bout with plague, none the worse for wear. Now she seemed intent on luring Duncan back to her bed…something she’d been trying to accomplish ever since Aileana MacDonell had come to Eileen Donan. Unfortunately for her, she hadn’t yet realized the futility of that effort.
Kinnon let his sights drift along the table, across the expansive stone floor to the corner near the massive fireplace. Aileana sat curled on a chair there, a length of plaid draped over her legs. Though she’d recovered from her own bout with the plague more than a fortnight ago, her face was pinched and wan. He followed the track of her stare; it led back to Duncan, who continued to resist Nora, all the while glancing furtively at Aileana as if he both wanted her near and wished himself far away from her at the same time.
Kinnon sighed. The two of them were like to kill each other with coolness if someone didn’t step in soon. They’d circled their shadows for days, and it was ruining them both. Kinnon had pondered approaching Duncan, but he knew from experience that trying to talk to him about this would be tantamount to engaging him in battle. Duncan resisted advice, especially about women. But Aileana might be willing to listen. She’d talked freely in the storage chamber several weeks ago. Perhaps she’d welcome his counsel now.
Smiling, Kinnon weaved his way through the revelers. Before he reached Aileana’s side he secured two cups of honeyed wine, bowing as he offered her one of the fragrant drinks.
“May I tempt you with some refreshment, lady?”
Aileana gave him a startled glance. “You’ve no need to serve me.” But after a pause, she nodded in thanks and took the cup from him to sip. Her faint smile dispelled the gloom of her expression a bit. “It’s delicious, thank you.”
Kinnon swung himself onto a bench near her chair. “Aye. A special brew to mark the arrival of our honored guests.” He inclined his head toward the many MacKenzies who celebrated at the banquet table. When he sipped again, he glanced furtively at Aileana, hoping his comment encouraged her to notice the one MacKenzie in particular who was heaping attention on Duncan.
Aileana grimaced. Setting her cup aside, she leaned back again in her chair and pulled her plaid closer around her knees. “The festivities are quite too fervent for my tastes, I fear.”
“Perhaps you should retire for the evening what with being ill as you were,” Kinnon said shrewdly. “You might take sick again.”
“Nay.” Aileana shook her head, though her cheeks had paled. “I’m well enough.”
“It’s a different kind of ache, then, is it?” Kinnon murmured, casting her a sideways look.
Aileana threaded her fingers together, squeezing, he noticed, until the knuckles turned white. “I’ve never liked revelry.” She looked down at her lap to stare at the swath of plaid. “It is the consequence, I suppose, of spending so much time alone.”
“Ah, I see. It has nothing to do with Duncan over there, then.”
Aileana’s gaze snapped up. “Of course it doesn’t.”
Kinnon shrugged. “I only suggested as much since you seem more awkward with him than usual, of late.” He touched her hand. “It would be no crime to talk of your feelings, you know. They’d be safe with me; you’ve my word on it.”
Aileana stiffened and pulled her hand away under the guise of adjusting her plaid. “There’s no feeling about it, Kinnon MacRae. I’m Duncan’s leman. He’s the laird. It’s as simple as that.”
Her cheeks had heightened in color as she spoke, and Kinnon ran his hand through his hair as he looked away.Saints, but she was as stubborn as Duncan.
