Their gazes held for a few long moments. How could he survive kenning that the woman that could do that was sitting beside him and he had no choice but to let her go. Let her go to a bastard that was so undeserving of her that it would be physically painful to offer her up to that weasel MacDonell.
The servant girl returned. “If ye would like to move to one of the dining tables we will have a meal brought out to ye,” she offered kindly.
“I would rather stay by the fire to keep warm,” Alana said. “Ye go ahead, Rory. I will sup later.”
The girl straightened. “Ye are still wet from the rain, aye? We will move a table near so that ye may continue to dry whilst ye sup. We wouldnae want ye to catch yer death from the damp.”
The girl spun on her heel and spoke with an older servant that watched near what Rory assumed was the kitchens.
“Thank ye for being so accommodating,” Alana said to the servants after they’d moved a table and loaded it with trenchers and trays with foods of all assortments. The hearty meal had Rory’s mouth watering when the divine scents tickled his nose.
“Ye choose what ye would like first, Bluebell.”
“I dinnae think ye need to wait, Rory. There is plenty.”
He nodded, and they ate, filling their bellies as if they hadn’t eaten for weeks. He told Alana about his brother, Alpin, who was engaged to be married. He had already told her about Moira, but he told her about his sister, Eilidh, and how she loved to play the fiddle and how she traveled around in some musician circles playing forceilidhsand such. And then his younger sister Morven, the youngest of the family. Always pushing everyone’s limits and shirking out of all responsibility. He had chuckled at that, realizing he did the same thing with the small responsibilities his father tried to assign him. This one not included. Escorting Alana to her destination was aught but a small order.
Alana listened intently, paying attention to all the details of his siblings as if she were trying to memorize them.
“I had once dreamed of mapping the whole of the Highlands. Plot by plot. But I kept getting drawn back home for one thing or another.”
She bumped him in the shoulder. “For things like escorting me north?”
He tilted his head as he looked at her. “Aye. But I wouldnae change it.” It was the truth. He would not if given the chance. It was why he wanted to savor every minute left he had with Alana. He kenned as they drew higher into the Highlands, they drew closer to the MacDonell. Which meant closer to letting her go forever. It wasn’t something he was ready to face at this moment in time.
“I had always thought my parent’s loving. I was coddled as a child. But I see now that I was being sheltered. Kept away from everyone that wasnae family. I had ne’er thought aboot it. I just thought ’twas the way of it.” She laughed bitterly. “Now, in my current predicament, I find myself questioning everything.”
Rory listened intently as Alana spoke about her family and what her life was like as a child.
She pushed food around on her plate afore finally taking a bite of roast venison. “My clan had been near devastation after my grandfather’s death. My father built it back up so we once again flourished, but the past years have been hard. Our lands have been attacked and pilfered. My brothers havenae been able to marry as they have naught to offer.” She chewed her lip for a moment. “That is why my betrothal was put in place. A truce. The offer of protection from a larger clan from the surrounding clans that attack us endlessly. Protection from the English as weel.” A sad smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “I only wish there was another way. But there is nay turning back now when all the pieces have been put in place.” Her eyes were sad as she sipped her cider and stared into the flames of the hearth, the light reflecting in her round eyes.
Back in their room, they readied for bed, but neither of them moved to climb into it. Firelight danced over Alana’s features, making her hazel eyes appear dark gray, her high cheekbones harsh and defined.
“We cannae stand here through the night. ’Twill for certs make for an exhaustive day on the morrow,” Rory offered, pushing his handsthrough his hair.
Pressing her lips into a thin line, Alana nodded. She slipped under the throws and stayed near the edge of the bed. “Remember, no touching,” she warned over her shoulder.
Rory held his hands up in defense. “I promise.” Though as he slid in beside her, he fought the temptation to press his front against her back that faced him. The feel of her body in his arms would offer him the best sleep. But he promised and he would keep his word. Following her lead, he moved to his side, so his back was to hers, but sleep did not overtake him any time soon. He couldn’t sleep with her so close. He laid awake for what seemed like hours afore he finally drifted off.
Chapter Sixteen
The next morning,Alana sat by the hearth sipping honeyed tea whilst she watched Rory chat with the innkeeper’s grandchildren. They’d learned that the innkeeper’s daughter and her children lived with him and helped him run the inn. Her husband had tragically perished in a fire two years afore.
Rory picked up a lad and spun him around whilst pulling a funny face and Alana nearly choked on her drink. A fit of coughs erupted and Rory looked at her with concern, but she waved him off to continue playing with the children. He hesitated, but as she dismissed him with her hand once more, he turned back to the child, crossing his eyes and sticking out his tongue.
The lad and his sister broke out in fits of laughter. Their giggles filling the room with a happiness and cheer that Alana hadn’t realized she longed for. Her brothers were older than her and neither of them had any children. Auchenford Castle was usually quiet. It missed the liveliness that laddies and lassies brought with them.
“Twirl me, twirl me,” the lass begged, reaching up her arms so Rory could spin her around the same way he had spun her brother. “Weeeee,” she squealed, grasping at Rory’s neck, and squeezing.
He stopped and set her on her wobbly feet, waiting for her world to right itself afore he let go.
The lad tugged on his tunic and when Rory looked at him, hepointed to his boot, which had come untied.
Quickly, Rory knelt, tying the boy’s shoe, listening to him ramble on with a huge smile on his face.
The scene hit Alana like a rock had just fallen on her. The image of Rory seared into her mind. She burned the pictures in her memory. Rory as a father. Rory with a home. Rory as hers. A dream she wanted but didn’t dare dream of. It would only lead to her ruin and disappointment at what her future held.
But at that moment in time, it was so easy to believe he was hers. That the children were theirs, and that the inn was their home. That they were spending a normal morn as a family.
