A light smile danced around Hamish’s lips as he inclined his head to the laird. “I think, Me Laird, that there has been a grave oversight here this evening.”
Callum stiffened even further beside her as he adjusted his position and placed his hand over his knee under the table. Was he preparing himself for a fight?
Eleanor held her breath as a tense silence fell over the room. Surely the man would not cause a scene in front of the whole clan. Or were his motives more sinister than simply just outing Eleanor in a public manner? Her fingers tightened around her cup.
Around the hall, men shifted on the benches. A few exchanged wary glances. Even those seated closest to Hamish seemed uncertain where this was leading. One man even frowned as she as he looked between the two men.
An eternity seemed to pass until Hamish slowly lifted his cup in the air. “To the Laird and his bonnie bride to be… may their lives always be as full as our cups, and their reign as long as the journey that brought them together.” His eyes lingered on Eleanor for a little too long, causing her to shift slightly toward Callum.
The words hung in the air like a knife waiting to strike. A few of the nearby men seemed to relax, yet Eleanor was not certain of what the words meant. What did the man know of the journey that had brought them to where they were?
It was not until the man beside Hamish stood that the tension finally broke. “To the Laird and his new bride!” The man’s voice boomed across the hall as he raised his cup beside Hamish.
Cheers erupted from the crowd as one by one, the men stood and joined in the toast.
Eleanor relaxed as the tension eased, her fingers uncurling from around the cup. The moment of relief, however, was short-lived when she turned back to Callum and noticed how intently he was staring at the old man.
What is he thinkin’?
Her breath was heavy when he raised his cup of ale to his lips and took a large sip, his eyes never leaving the man who now stood among a small group of men who were clapping him on the back. The laughter and merriment returned to normal as bagpipes began to play a merry tune at the back of the hall. All seemed well again, except for the tension in the laird’s face. What exactly had Hamish meant with his toast? Something seemed off, even for Eleanor, who had never met the man in her life.
Beside her, Callum released his cup from his firm grip and sat back on his chair, strumming his fingers on the table.
“Me Laird?” Eleanor asked softly beside him, almost wanting to reach out and touch his hand.
Callum’s jaw unclenched slightly as he glanced to the side. “Aye, I ken what ye are thinkin’ lass, but I cannae answer yer questions. We can talk about the matter later when there are fewer ears to hear,” he kept his voice low as he glanced around the room.
Tension coiled in the pit of her stomach as Hamish sat, seemingly ignoring them now as he returned to his conversations.
“Meet me in the study this evening after everyone has gone to bed. We can discuss the matter then,” Callum whispered beside her without looking at her.
Alone in the study, again?
Her heart began to race for entirely different reasons this time. She had seen Callumn in the study on her own, but it had never been after everyone else in the castle had gone to bed. There had always been the possibility of someone coming in, but it seemed far too intimate and even forbidden for them to be left alone under such circumstances.
The circumstances.
There was no other choice but for them to meet in private if they were to discuss what had just happened with the member of the council. Callum was certain that there was a traitor in their midst, and it certainly seemed as if that were the case.
CHAPTER TEN
The castle had long since fallen silent.
The laughter and music that had filled the great hall earlier that evening had faded into memory, leaving only the distant howl of wind beyond the stone walls and the occasional crackle of a dying fire.
Eleanor sat upright in her bedchamber, staring at the book she had not turned a page of in nearly half an hour. She had picked up the book in an attempt to ease her racing mind, but the effort had proven futile.
Hamish's toast replayed endlessly in her mind.
“To the Laird and his bonnie bride...”
The words had been followed by thunderous cheers after an awkward pause. Why had everyone questioned the toast? It was almost as if she and Callum were not the only ones who found itodd. What had the man done to incur everyone’s suspicions, and why was he still a member of the council?
Having had enough of her own racing thoughts, Eleanor decided that it was time she met with Callum and asked all the questions that she needed to ask. She swung her legs off the bed, still wearing the dress she had worn to dinner.
Marion had found it odd when she had refused help in dressing for bed, but the girl had not pressed the matter and had left her to her own devices.
Slipping her still stockinged feet into her shoes, she quickly did up the laces and went for her cloak. The castle was cold at night, and she felt as if the added layer of protection would keep prying eyes from seeing where she was headed.
