Pushing through the double doors leading to the terrace and the garden, Killian kept his eyes peeled. The air was thick with apprehension. Even outside, Killian felt the oppression of the situation. It was as if he were waiting to die.
"Laird MacMillan," a husky voice called for him. Killian turned to find Rodger rushing for him with a lass in tow. It took Killian every ounce of his strength not to turn them away. But how were they to know that his heart had been spoken for? He didn't really know until that very moment when he realized he'd never get through this event unscathed until he made his announcement.
"Rodger, so glad ye could make," Killian said, trying to keep the irritation from his tone. "And who is this enchantin' young lass ye brought with ye?"
"Laird MacMillan, this is Rebecca," Rodger beamed as the blond-haired girl stepped forward. Although she didn't cower like the others, Killian found her rather ordinary.
"It is a pleasure to meet ye both," Killian said as he barely gave the girl a second glance. "I do hope ye enjoy the festivities."
"Perhaps a dance later, me laird?" Rebecca managed to blurt out. Killian could easily hear the apprehension and fear tainting her words. She didn't want to dance with him any more than he did. In the corner of Killian's eye, he caught movement. It was aflash, but that was all it took to draw his attention to the edge of the boxwood maze.
"If ye'll excuse me," Killian said without allowing Rebecca to answer. His hand flew to his dirk instinctively as he felt Rebecca's eyes bore into him. He didn't care who watched him take down the assassin so long as the threat was finally gone.
As Killian approached, he felt the weight of his responsibility settle on his shoulders like a sack of grain. In a flurry of movement, Killian spotted Fraser tackling another to the ground. Without hesitating, Killian was at Fraser's side in a flash, his dirk poised to strike at any moment.
"Who are ye and why have ye come here?" Killian demanded as Fraser kept the man pinned.
"Go to hell," the man hissed as he spat at Killian.
"Take him to the dungeon," Killian ordered. "Let's see how a few hours in the hole will grease those lips."
"Ye want him in the hole?" Fraser whispered, his voice so low that only Killian could hear.
"Aye," Killian answered without remorse or delay. Fraser nodded and wrestled the man away from the prying eyes of council members and clan folk.
Swallowing hard, Killian tugged on his dress jacket and smoothed the wrinkles from his shirt. He couldn't help but get a sinking feeling in the pit of his being that the man they just caught wasn't the real threat.
That was too easy. Surely an assassin would be more skilled than to attack in the garden?
An uneasiness grew in the pit of Killian's stomach as he turned back to the crowd and ceilidh. Although he wanted to believe that maybe he could enjoy the rest of the events in peace, he knew all too well how fast things could change.
"Laird MacMillan," Alan called. Killian couldn't help but roll his eyes at meeting yet another prospect. Where was Leah when he needed her? This game was growing weary, and Killian was itching to get to the dungeons to interrogate the intruder.
"Alan," Killian greeted as Alan embraced him warmly.
"As ye can imagine," Alan began, pushing the girl next to him closer to Killian. "I've come to introduce ye to me daughter, Abigale."
"I daenae think I've met ye," Killian said as she lifted a hand for him to kiss. Arching an eyebrow, Killian took her hand and planted a small peck on the tip of her knuckles. He smiled politely as he dropped her hand and stepped back. The fact she didn't cower before him shocked him. Killian wondered just how much Alan had told her about him.
"Nay, ye havenae," Alan said. "We've had her with relatives these past few years. She just came home a month ago. She's been in Edinburgh all this while."
"But I am grateful to be back in the highlands. There's just somethin' about the moors, daenae ye think? It's like they call to ye."
Killian studied her for a moment. She was strikingly beautiful, with her chestnut hair flowing over her shoulders. Her emerald dress hugged her figure, and the confidence radiating off her was almost overwhelming. But beyond the cardinal layer of beauty and lust, Killian found no substance underneath it all.
"That so? Ye ken, me maither would say the moors called to her as well," Killian answered.
"Is that so? Well, it would seem we have somethin' in common, would it nae?" she said, batting her eyes seductively. Glancing over at Alan, Killian flashed him a smile. Somewhere in the depths of his being, a warning bell rang, shattering the illusion that was trying to engulf Killian.
"I do hope ye both enjoy yerselves," Killian said as he craned his neck to spy around Alan. Killian didn't want anyone but Leah. The fact that she hadn't shown up yet was causing him to grow anxious. He couldn't help but wonder if rejecting Leah last night was a good thing to do. After all, she was the one he was about to throw into the lion's den.
"Will ye nae ask me for a dance?" Abigale asked as she stepped before him, refusing him leave.
"Ye dance? I figured ye have yer faither's two left feet," Killian said, trying to make light of the situation. After all, how could they know Leah was the one who haunted his thoughts and tormented his dreams? It wasn't like he'd ever confess it out loud. But for now, Leah was his escape from all the unwanted attention.
"Lucky for ye, I've got me maither's grace," she answered a bit too greedily for Killian's liking. He lifted his chin as he realized the woman wouldn't take no for an answer. A wicked grin stretched across his lips as he tilted his head.
"That so? Well then, how can I refuse? But I'll have to take a rain check, there are other pressin' matters I need to attend to first," Killian said as Alan's eyes narrowed with suspicion.
