The celebrant walked shakily to the front of the table. Twice, he staggered, and there was scattered laughter and sounds of encouragement. Gilbert grinned and faced the rest of the guests. “May all of ye grow as old as me and even older, even the ones that be cows and randy goats!”
A cheer went up.
“May this clan plant when it’s right to plant and harvest bountifully. May ye give birth tae strapping lads and lasses more beautiful than lilies! May our enemies lose every battle like the bastards that they are. And, yes, death tae the English!”
Every prayer of his was met with a cheer.
“Long live Clan Fletcher!” he said finally, raising his cup.
“Long live Clan Fletcher!” everyone chorused, and they downed the contents of their cups and started to bang the cups against the tables. This startled Jane. Thankfully, the people at her table were less violent. They barely tapped them against the wood. Alistair held his hand out for silence. “And now, we dance.”
A cheer went up. The band strung out a lively musical note, and Jane heard the scraping of chairs as people began to pour out to the middle of the dining hall to dance. Catrina, who’d chosen a seat next to Jane this time, shouted above the din, “Jane, would ye like tae dance? Only tae a few songs; the melodies get bawdier as the night wears on.” Catrina’s face was flushed. She was not drunk, but she had the glow of someone whose inhibitions had begun to chip away thanks to the wine she had enjoyed.
“No, thank you,” Jane shouted back. “I think I shall return to my room.”
Tasgall was tugging at Catrina’s leave, obviously to get her to join in the fun. She said something to him, which made him stop the tugging, and turned to Jane. “Ye’re sure? It will be a lot of fun!”
“I am sure,” Jane said. “Thank you.”
Catrina nodded and stood up. She gestured to Fionnula, who was waiting by a corner but tapping her feet in tune with the music. The girl approached the table, and Jane got up. She looked in Alistair’s direction, but he was no longer there. She turned back and jumped. He was right next to her, leaning close to Catrina and saying something in her ear. Catrina nodded, took Tasgall’s outstretched hand, and proceeded to dance. Alistair motioned to Jane. For a moment, she did nothing. And then she closed the space between them. He began to walk and she followed. She dared not look back, but she knew that the people would not be very pleased with their laird leaving the celebrations early with the English captive. They walked into the hallway, and the music became dim.
Jane had watched him from afar for the latter part of today, and now that he was next to her, she did not know what to say.
“Is it because of what Gilbert said?”
Jane snapped to attention. “What?”
“Death to the English,” Alistair said. “Is that why ye wanted tae leave suddenly?”
“Nay,” Jane said. “I’m just nae one fer dancing, I’m afraid.”
“Hmm,” Alistair said. “Gilbert is a drunkard. Ye would dae well nae tae take his words seriously.”
“Why is he celebrated, then?” Jane asked.
“What?”
“Why is he celebrated then?”
“Because he is the oldest-”
“Yes, I know that” Jane said. “He is the oldest man in Clan Fletcher. But that doesn’t mean anything, does it?”
“It is tradition tae honor the oldest man on their anniversary,” Alistair replied.
“And not the oldest woman, even though they are forty years older than the oldest man?”
Alistair frowned. “I am listening.”
“Ayleen. The oldest woman in Clan Fletcher. No one celebrates her except her family. And I feel that is very wrong.Sheshould be celebrated, not him.”
Alistair chuckled. “Ye have spent barely two days here and you seek tae overthrow tradition.”
“Oh, bother,” Jane said. “You are not a strict follower of tradition, either. I sat in on your hearings today.”
“I ken,” he said easily. “You seemed quite bored.”
Jane’s eyes widened. “I was anything but!” She paused. “Well, maybe at the end. Why did you allow me watch?”
