Chapter Eighteen
Ailis and Moirasat at the far end of the grand table, distant from Fiona and Alisdair. The air carried the scents of roasted meats and spiced pies, yet a twinge of unease ran through Ailis. She’d expected to be seated with both sisters and the three McClain brothers, but it was just her and Moira at this end of the table.
When they’d arrived at the great hall for supper that evening, they’d been told where they should sit, and it seemed to Ailis she and Moira were deliberately kept away from Fiona, Alisdair, Lachlan, and Brodie.
Beside her, Moira conversed with Horas, Bearnard, and Lucas. These men wore their clan tartan and addressed Ailis and her sister courteously. Horas had a penetrating gaze, Bearnard an assured poise, and Lucas an easy smile that hinted at untold stories.
“Ye have grace in yer words, Ailis,” Lucas remarked, filling her goblet with a rich amber liquid.
“Yer hospitality honors us,” Ailis replied, her voice weaving through the feasting hall like a calming breeze. However, she couldn’t help but glance toward Lachlan. She had expected to be able to spend the evening with him, but here she sat with strangers instead. She was not happy with the arrangement.
*
Lachlan and Brodiewere seated with twin beauties who shared a jest causing giggles. Under different circumstances, he might have enjoyed their pleasing company. Yet, he wanted to be near Ailis, not across the room from where she sat with three young men. Many hosts set up seating arrangements for new groups, but typically people who arrived together were allowed to sit together for meals.
“Yer laughter is as delightful as the piper’s music.” Lachlan raised his goblet in a toast to their beauty, but merriment didn’t reach his eyes. These women were vacuous and talked of nothing important, and giggled more than they should.
His gaze occasionally found Ailis across the room. Her serene presence contrasted with the lively chatter around her. He wondered what thoughts lay hidden behind her green eyes.
He had an idea why they’d been separated as they had, but he hoped he was wrong. Certainly, no one there was trying to keep the two of them apart. At least he hoped they weren’t. But there did seem to be some plotting occurring, and he wanted no part of the plot at all.
*
As the piper’smelody waned, the great hall transformed into a lively dance floor. At Horas’s gentle tug, Ailis accepted his invitation to dance. Drums and flutes filled the air, guiding dancers into motion. As much as she enjoyed dancing, she had no desire to dance with any of the men they’d been seated with.
Bearnard and Lucas ensured Moira and Ailis danced one song after another. The room became a whirlwind of tartans, twirling skirts, and eager partners lining up for the McAfee sisters. She wanted to tell all the men she didn’t care to dance with them, but that would be rude, and she was there to represent her clan.
Ailis moved gracefully, her dark hair catching candlelight as she spun. Despite the joy around her, she couldn’t ignore Lachlan’s striking presence across the room. His athletic form moved effortlessly amid the dancers, his dark hair contrasting with his partners’ lighter locks.
Ailis’s heart yearned for Lachlan while her feet followed a different rhythm. She wanted nothing more than to cross the room so they could dance together, but it seemed that every time she even glanced in his direction, one of the men would move between them and ask her to dance.
As the dance continued, Ailis couldn’t shake off the feeling of being held back from where she truly wanted to be. She stole glances in Lachlan’s direction whenever she could, hoping to catch his eye.
Moira noticed her sister’s distracted demeanor and whispered, “Ye seem troubled, Ailis. Is something amiss?”
Ailis forced a smile and replied softly, “I just… I had hoped to dance with someone else tonight.”
Moira followed her gaze and understood immediately. “Ah, Lachlan. Does it seem to ye as if we’re being deliberately separated from the McClain men?” she asked.
Ailis blushed and nodded, grateful for her sister’s understanding.
Just then, Horas twirled Ailis gracefully and remarked, “Ye have the grace of a swan on the loch, Ailis.”
“Thank ye, Horas,” Ailis responded politely, though her mind was elsewhere.
Bearnard then stepped in to take Ailis for the next dance. “Mayhap this dance will lift yer spirits, lass,” he offered with a charming smile.
Ailis couldn’t resist his infectious enthusiasm and found herself smiling genuinely as they danced together. Bearnard wasa skilled dancer and led her with confidence around the crowded floor.
Meanwhile, Lucas approached Moira with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Do ye believe in fate, Moira?” he inquired as they danced in rhythm to the music.
Moira raised an eyebrow in curiosity. “I’m not sure I follow, Lucas. Why do ye ask?”
Lucas gestured toward Ailis and Bearnard discreetly. “Sometimes the stars align in mysterious ways,” he mused cryptically.
Moira shot him a puzzled glance but couldn’t dwell on it for long as the music urged them to keep pace with the lively tune.
Across the room, Lachlan found himself entangled in conversation with Brodie and two other guests. He stole glances at Ailis whenever he could, yearning to be by her side on the dance floor.
