And as they descended the staircase together, Ailis held fast to the belief that, just perhaps, courage and grace could also guide her through the labyrinth of her own heart.
*
Ailis stepped outsideinto the misty morning, her skirts brushing against the damp courtyard stones. The weight of her father’s decision hung heavily on her mind. He had consented to Ian Sinclair’s courtship, but only if Ailis agreed as well. It was a duty she reluctantly considered for her family’s sake.
When Ian touched her arm, she felt nothing. But she knew her father didn’t want her to turn Ian down, despite the fact that they all believed the Sinclairs were behind the men who kept attacking the McAfees. Her father believed in keeping enemies close, and Ian represented his father and his clan.
“Ye seem burdened,” Ian observed, confidently striding toward her. His hair gleamed in the sunlight, barely concealing the calculating glint in his eyes.
“Good morning, Ian,” Ailis responded emotionlessly. “Shall we begin our walk?”
As they strolled away from the keep, Ailis spotted Kevin McClain, Lachlan’s guard, trailing discreetly behind them—a silent testament to Lachlan’s jealousy. If Lachlan truly cared for her, why not come forward himself?
“Does it bother ye, having a McClain follow us?” Ian inquired, noting her glance over her shoulder. He all but spat the word McClain.
“Nay,” Ailis lied smoothly. “I just wonder why Lachlan would send a man to follow me instead of following me himself.”
The path meandered through the woods, leaves rustling with secrets above them. Ailis sensed Ian’s calculated charm, but she lingered on Lachlan—his sparkling blue eyes filled with mischief and warm laughter. His caresses spoke volumes more than words.
“Is there something amiss?” Ian asked, sensing her distraction.
“Nothing that need concern ye,” Ailis replied tersely, eyeing Kevin in the clearing ahead. Annoyance flitted across her face at Lachlan’s refusal to pursue her while denying others the chance.
“Very well,” Ian conceded, wearing a discontented expression.
Ailis could not force herself to care about Ian’s moods. He was a difficult man to be around on the best of days, and she had no desire to have any sort of relationship with him.
Ailis and Ian walked the wooded path, a natural cathedral of pine and oak above them. He plucked a wildflower from the underbrush and offered it to her.
“For ye, fair Ailis,” he offered, his voice lilting but cool.
She accepted the bluebell with a laugh that hid her inner turmoil. “Ye honor me,” she replied, struggling with sincerity. He had done something kind. It would not be right to throw the flower in his face as she would like to do.
As they resumed walking, Ian boasted about his army’s might while she lingered on Lachlan, absent yet present in her mind. Ailis glanced at Kevin, their stoic guard, wondering if he shared her weariness over Ian’s pomp compared to Lachlan’s quiet strength.
“Indeed, ye speak of great responsibility.” She shifted her gaze to the canopy above—the interlaced branches symbolizing the tension between personal desires and politicalresponsibilities. “I ken ye didn’t expect to be yer father’s heir. It must have been hard for ye when Malcolm was killed for kidnapping me sister.”
“He did what he did of his own accord,” Ian replied, using the same words his father had once used.
“Of course,” Ailis muttered, not looking at him as they continued their walk.
The glade shimmered before them, a secluded sanctuary within the murmuring woods. Ailis spotted a deer grazing. The sight awakened an ancestral instinct inside her.
Without hesitation, Ailis pulled her knife from its scabbard on her belt and threw it with practiced ease. Silently, the blade found its target. The deer fell lifeless in a heartbeat.
“Most impressive,” Ian murmured, his voice carrying a hint of surprise. “I wasn’t aware of yer skills with a knife.”
“Then ye weren’t present at the Highland Games,” Ailis replied swiftly. “Only Malcolm was there from yer clan. Why is that?”
At Ian’s shrug, she went to the deer.
“I still think yer skill amazing. Women aren’t taught to fight with knives.”
“Any lass would do the same,” Ailis said evenly, adrenaline still pumping through her.
“I suppose.” He stepped forward to claim the catch but stopped short. “Regrettably, I’m too sore from training to help carry it back.”
“Too sore?” Ailis scoffed. This man claimed to want to court her and be her husband, and he wouldn’t help her carry a deer? He brought shame to all Highlanders with his refusal.
