But, instead, he had been gentle with her, careful even, slipping out of bed softly so as not to disturb her when he woke in the morning; dropping a kiss on her temple before he would make his way down to training with his men.
She would steal glances at him as he dressed, taking in the shape of his body, the firmness of his muscles as he moved around the room, and bite back a little smile when she remembered that this man, for all intents and purposes, belonged to her and her alone.
The maids seemed to have noticed a change in her, too. Martha had been spending more time with her, perhaps sensing that her mood was a little brighter than it had been before. Though she did not come out and ask directly why Ailsa hadall of a sudden been spending more time in her husband’s chambers, she must have known the reason.
No doubt it was a matter of gossip all across the Keep, not that Ailsa took much of an issue with the idea. No, it suited her down to the ground that they might see her as more of a mainstay here now that she and her husband had finally given themselves to one another.
It was, in fact, on a morning excursion with Martha to the gardens that she was interrupted. The two of them had made their way to the gardens, where the cooks were growing a few herbs meant for drying over the winter. Ailsa might not have known much about the application of such things, but she was a decent gardener and intended to offer her guidance on the matter.
“Ye’ll have to speak to Iona about it,” Martha had remarked to her, running a hand through her hair. “She likes to have things done just so, I’m no’ sure she’ll take so kindly to the idea of changing anything.”
“I’m the Lady of the Keep,” Ailsa laughed in return. “Surely, she’ll lend me her ear, at least for a while?”
“I dinnae think that she believes she owes that kind of attention to anyone,” she replied, shaking her head. “She’s a stubborn old thing, Iona…”
But before they could discuss the matter any further, there was a sudden flurry of excitement and activity in the courtyard before them.
Ailsa’s head snapped up, eyes darting this way and that as she tried to make sense of what was going on.
A handful of guards had rushed to the entrance, pulling back the portcullis to make room for whoever was arriving.
Ailsa cast a look towards Martha, silently asking if she knew of anyone who was meant to arrive that day, but Martha seemed just as nonplussed as she did on the matter.
A thundering of hooves announced the arrival of their new guest.
The moment that the rider appeared through the large stone arch, Ailsa’s heart sank slightly.
This woman, it was clear, was used to commanding attention; she was dressed in a deep red robe that flew out around her shoulders, the hood pulling back just far enough that strands of her fiery red locks were visible beneath. She pulled on the reins, managing the horse with confidence, and drew it to a halt just outside the stone steps that led up to the Keep.
Ailsa followed the sight of her and was surprised to see Tavish emerging from within to greet her. He hadn’t mentioned anything to her about a visitor, but the way everyone was reacting to this woman, she was an esteemed guest.
She drew her horse to a halt and hopped down from the saddle, just as Ailsa lifted her skirts and hurried over to make sure she was present for her arrival, too.
The woman hardly seemed to notice Ailsa, though, as she strode towards the doorway; Tavish greeted her with a nod, extending his hand, his face unreadable.
“Tavish,” Ailsa called to him, doing her best to keep her voice light. “Ye didnae mention that we were due to have guests today, I would made proper preparations.”
The woman turned to her, her gaze traveling pointedly up and down Ailsa like she was sizing her up.
“No need to prepare anything for me,” the woman assured her, her sharp green eyes piercing like a blade. “I just came to check in on an old friend.”
She cast her gaze back to Tavish, and the way it lingered on him made the hairs on the back of Ailsa’s neck stand up. There was something far too familiar about it for her liking, it seemed that woman knew more of her husband than she should.
“And to pay my respects, of course,” she went on.
Ailsa glanced at Tavish, raising her eyebrows slightly, insisting that he introduce her to this sudden new arrival in their home.
“Ailsa,” Tavish remarked finally, reaching his arm out for her. Ailsa was quick to go to his side, glad for the excuse to feel nearer to him once more.
“This is Riona McKellar.”
“And ye dinnae have to introduce yerself to me,” she replied, lifting her chin, her gaze like a drawn blade resting against Ailsa’s throat. “Ye must be the new Lady MacDonald. A pleasure to meet ye.”
“Likewise,” Ailsa replied, even though she wasn’t entirely certain that she believed it.
Riona seemed able to sense her discomfort but did not take it as the sign she should have to hold off.
“A pleasure to meet ye, I’m sure,” she remarked. “Ye’re as lovely as I heard about, my dear. I just hope that ye can match yer beauty with resilience.”
