Ailis hesitated before asking, “What does yer heart seek?”
“Every day and night, loyalty to me clan wars with other inclinations,” he admitted.
She nodded. “Such inclinations often lead to ruin.”
He stiffened. “Do ye think I am just another rogue?”
“I truly do not know what to think when it comes to ye,” she answered, her voice barely audible above the music.
“Good thoughts would be nice.” He smiled at her.
She shook her head. “I suppose most of me thoughts of ye are good ones. Not all though.”
“Ye wound me! It’s as if ye dinnae trust me, and here I am, brother ta yer sister!”
“But notmebrother.” She smiled.
“I would hope not.”
*
Ailis entered herfather’s war room, seeking refuge from the noisy gathering. She found Moira, her fiery hair a vibrant contrast to the subdued tapestry on the wall.
“Moira,” Ailis began, her voice trembling. “I’m lost in confusion.”
“Speak, sister,” Moira urged, eyes full of understanding.
“It’s Lachlan,” Ailis confessed. “He unsettles me. There’s a pull, like the moon upon the tides, but me heart resists it.”
“The battle between duty and desire.” Moira leaned forward. “Does he make yer spirit soar while vexing ye?”
“He does,” Ailis admitted softly. “I do not know what his intentions are, and I find meself drawn to him anyway. I wish he would speak to Father and ask to court me.”
“If ye want him to court ye, shouldn’t ye just ask him?” Moira asked.
“I could not! Men are meant to approach women, not the other way around. How could ye even suggest such a thing?”
Moira shrugged. “I dinna think I will ever marry. I like being me own person and not expected to obey rules given by a man.”
“Ye ken Father expects us both to make good marriages?” Ailis asked, wondering what was wrong with her sister. Women were meant to marry and bear children.
“Responsibilities shape us but dinnae define us wholly,” Moira advised. “Sometimes we must leap into the unknown, trusting the winds to guide us.”
“I suppose that’s true.” Ailis still couldn’t decide if she should avoid Lachlan or seek him out. On one hand, she wanted to be with him desperately, but on the other, she worried spending even more time with him would make her fall more in love, and that would simply make life harder if he didn’t have the same feelings. It seemed he did, but nothing was ever quite as it seemed.
After returning, Ailis moved among the revelers in the great hall when Lachlan appeared before her, offering his hand. Wordlessly, she accepted. Then they stepped onto the dance floor.
A traditional Highland dance began. Lachlan led confidently and Ailis followed gracefully.
Each touch was electric—fingers grazing, hands clasping, arms entwining. Their eyes met often, glances charged with unspoken emotion. The dance demanded they part and reunite, mirroring Ailis’s inner turmoil.
As they spun, Lachlan’s grip tightened slightly. It was a silent promise in the clamor. His warmth ignited an inextinguishable fire within Ailis.
For those moments, nothing else mattered. The world narrowed to their shared breaths and the music that fueled them.
The dance ended, leaving them breathless and flushed, unspoken desires reverberating between them. They bowed to each other, the formality doing nothing to ease the simmering heat beneath their skin.
“Thank ye, Ailis.” Lachlan’s voice was smooth as a serene loch.
