Page 70 of Highlander’s Mercenary Lass

A hush fell in the room as the counselor rapped his fingers on the table.

All Grace really wanted to do was to get out of there. Cut and loose, and run for all she was worth. Maybe clan life was not meant for her. Perhaps she would return to her old life, of being a fighter for hire. A sudden part of her ached to see her father.

But then, Andrew stroked her face tenderly, and every thought was gone. In the radiance of his touch, she could not imagine anything else. Now, more than ever, she wanted to stay.

Andrew smiled, pressing his lips lightly to her own. Without any warning, they were kissing, softly and subtly. All the same, Aileen noticed, tapping her on the shoulder with a cheery smile.

"Hush," someone said, as Grace blushed and Andrew concentrated on the old man's words.

"Anabelle Davies is tae leave the clan, as o' today, an' never set foot here again, on pain o' capture!" said the old man.

Another loud murmur ran around the room. Grace could tell that this was not popular.

"They dinnae think she had anything tae do wi' his plan tae kill Fiona," murmured Andrew beneath his hand. "She seemed surprised when she heard it."

"She's still a traitor, though," said Aileen, sticking her chin in the air.

Grace patted her hand. "Aye," she said thoughtfully. Then she turned warily as Andrew got up from the seat and made his way to the head of the hall.

Watching in surprise, Grace looked as he pushed his way to the podium and tapped upon it for silence.

Grace looked at Fiona and Aileen; both of them stared blankly as Andrew smiled uncertainly.

"Well, clansmen, that's nearly it all, an' thanks for bearing wi' us about the future o' the clan," said Andrew politely, but Grace felt sure that the twinkle in his eyes meant something was happening.

"Ye've listened patiently tae all the announcements, an' we thank ye, but afore ye go, there's one more." Andrew's eyes met hers, locking on to her from across the room. Even at this late hour, they looked fresh and sparkling.

A silence filled the room. Grace felt her stomach tighten. She was not sure she was able to cope with any more excitement.

"I've got an announcement..." Andrew coughed. "That is tae say, more o' a question..."

Low murmurs went around the room. Grace wondered what on earth was going on, but her tired brain just could not understand.

Andrew smiled. "Grace?" he said unexpectedly.

Now he had the attention of everyone in the room. And from the family table, Grace felt the weight of every eye upon her.

"Grace, will ye come up here?" Andrew asked.

Beside her, Aileen smirked, pushing her to the front of the room.

Her cheeks prickling, Grace got to her feet, suddenly self-conscious. Nervously, she pushed her way to the front of the room, smoothing down the creases in her now-dilapidated houppelande.

As she straightened herself out, Grace glanced at the once-new frock. Only a day ago, she had been prim and proper, but now, with her hair cut loose over her shoulders, she felt anything but.

But Andrew seemed not to notice that. Or if he did, he didn't care. His green eyes stuck like a magnet to her slight bosom peeking out from beneath a gap in her houppelande. Grace, who had only just noticed this, instantly blushed.

"Grace," said Andrew, taking her hand. A low murmur built in the crowd, rising slightly. Grace still had no idea what was going on. "I have tae ask ye something..."

He smiled slightly, then with no warning at all, he sank to his knee.

"Grace... Please, will ye marry me?" he said simply.

Grace just stared. For a moment, there was quiet, as every eye bored into her, making her feel wretched and hot.

"Grace, will ye marry me?" he repeated, as if she had not heard.

But Grace was still trying to understand the words she was hearing. It took a while, but then she grasped his hand, holding it tightly, and said, "I will marry ye, Andrew." She smiled, almost surprised with her own answer. It felt as if she was watching someone else from afar.