He glanced around the spartan little chamber. “I ken this is nae the grandeur ye’re accustomed tae but I believe ye will be comfortable here.”
She gave a grudging nod as he turned to go.
“Ye will remain here until the morning. In the meantime, I’ll instruct me men tae deliver yer trunk so ye may clad yerself in something other than a rough blanket.” He eyed her boldly, a smile hovering on his lips.
Dear Lord, she had forgotten she was naked beneath the voluminous blanket wrapping her. Her heart gave a little jump. A rush of heat to her cheeks greeted the embarrassing realization.
“Dinnae fash, lass,” he said as if he could read her mind. “I’ll speak wi’ ye again come the morrow.” He gestured toward the table which was laden with bowls and dishes. “I trust ye have adequate nourishment fer yer supper.”
In response her belly grumbled loudly, causing him to chuckle and her cheeks to redden.
“Enjoy yer repast, Lady Selene. I shall greet ye on the morrow after me meeting wi’ the Council, when we will discuss yer future.”
She dipped her head in acknowledgement as he turned on his heel and strode to the door, opened it and. stepped outside. Before the door closed he looked up. “Good night,” he muttered.
That confounded grin was still spread across his cheeks.
Selene paused for a heartbeat, ears straining. But there was no sound of a key being turned in the lock.
He had remained true to his word. She was no longer being held as a prisoner.
CHAPTER FIVE
Kenneth spent a fitful night, tossing and turning, tangling his legs in his bedcovers. Sleep was elusive and when he eventually slept, he was taunted by strange dreams of a pair of luscious blazing eyes and an imperious disdain that cut as sharp as a dirk.
He was up and dressed before dawn, making his way to the barracks. He had to know what Aidan MacLeay was up to. He had to find out what the bastard was plotting and if it was his men who’d attacked Selene’s birlinn.
Once there, he sought out his captain, Angus MacDonald, a young cousin who had proved himself an able warrior.
“I suspect the Laird Macleay of once again wreaking havoc in our territory. Take two of yer lads across tae the mainland and find out what ye can.”
Angus nodded, seemingly eager to carry out his new mission and strode off with a purposeful step. Confident of his men’s courage and determination, Kenneth returned to the keep for his meeting with the Clan Council.
The elders were gathering in the council chamber. A fire was roaring in the hearth and the air was thick with peat smoke and the murmur of men who had weathered far too many storms. Kenneth took his place at the head of the long table.
The chamber filled slowly as the clan’s senior men assembled for the morning’s meeting. One by one they entered, shaking the rain from their plaids, stamping the storm’s chill from their boots. Duncan MacDonald, his father’s cousin, oldest of the elders and broad as an ox, bowed his grey head to Kenneth in respectful greeting. Beside him came Fergus MacInnes, his limp more pronounced in the damp weather, muttered a curse about coastal winds as he clasped Callum’s forearm in welcome.
Younger MacDonald captains followed: Alasdair with his hawkish stare, Torquil with his fox-red beard still damp from the sea air, each man offering a nod or a murmured“m’laird,”as they took their places along the long oak table.
The weight of their presence, seasoned by years of battle and bitter winters, settled over the chamber like a heavy cloak. Kenneth exchanged a brief glance with Callum. His trusted advisor was already appraising each arrival with quiet vigilance. What Kenneth was preparing to tell them was news none of them would relish.
As each of the men present were well aware of the menace Aidan posed, he wasted no time on preamble.
After briefly relating the story of the two ships without colors and the battle in which he and his men had intervened, there was a rumble of questions around the table and knowing nods from many elders. They understood only too well the vengeance Aidan had sworn after the death of the woman he had loved and had wished to marry and who had been promised to Kenneth.
It had made no difference to Aidan that Kenneth had had no wish to marry the bride his clan and hers demanded should be his wife for the sole purpose of uniting their people.
But when the Lady Eilidh Fraser became ill and, on reaching Duntulm, took to her bed at once only to die a short while later, Aidan laid her death at Kenneth’s door.
Since that tragic incident three years before, Aidan had been a constant threat to the safety of all who dwelled within the castle walls. His ultimate hatred and wrath were directed toward Kenneth.
Tall Alasdair rose to his feet, his broad forehead creased with a deep frown.
“And this English lass ye rescued? What’s tae be done wi’ her?”
Kenneth nodded to the questioner. “I will convey a message tae Laird Halvard of Raasay who she claims as her braither-in-law.If he vouchsafes the lady, I shall see tae it she can be safely transported tae the isle.”
Alasdair took his seat again, seemingly satisfied with Kenneth’s response.
