Page 34 of Betrayed by His Highland Wife

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"Come, let us light the candles afore she comes."

William called hopefully to the maids scurrying out of sight in the great hall. Suddenly, every last one of them seemed to have disappeared. Frowning, William looked around.

"Annie? Morag? Och, anyone?" In disbelief, William looked around. A prickly feeling in his spine interrupted him. He was surprised to find it was panic, at least of the mild variety.

The hall was unlit and unready. For the household, the main meal had been taken, and diners came streaming out, leaving the chamber dark and empty.

Casting a skew eye about, William saw drinking vessels strewn all over, spilled drinks, bones, bits of food, and half-eaten tranchers all about. The place was chaos, and worse still, there did not seem to be anyone to clear it.

With not much choice, William began clearing plates. Awkwardly, he piled some plates together and attempted lifting. Immediately, he dropped one, shattering to bits beneath him.

"God's bones!" swore William, frantic. Not only were there shards, but huge globules of potage went flying all over the floor.

"Ye must like her," a wry voice mocked him. William turned to see Alasdair there, tilting his blond head and smirking.

Perspiring a little, William huffed. "Nay, I mean, a wee bit. I dinnae ken, it isnae any matter."

William cursed himself for being so flustered. Now Alasdair definitely knew for sure. The pale eyes of his languid advisor teased him profusely.

"Och, 'tis of nay importance. I merely wish the hall to be clean. Is that too much to ask?" he demanded, imperious. But one glance into Alasdair's eyes showed they both knew it to be untrue.

Under duress, William sighed.

"Och, aye. I like her. So there ye are!" he admitted at long last. Triumphant, Alasdair came to stand beside him.

"I ken." He winked, then looked serious. "An' so does half the castle," he added. "But 'tis nae necessary. 'Tis nae like ye have to woo the lassie. 'Tis a done deal."

Alasdair cast a droll eye over William, who started.

"A done deal? Och, ye have all the romance o' a dead turbot," William huffed, and then instantly regretted it. Trim, lanky Alasdair had got the better of him, and now that he had the upper hand, there was no letting go of it.

"Och, romance, is it noo?" teased his friend. Alasdair's watery eyes poised upward; he knew just the right levels of jest. He would only tease his laird lightly. After a moment, Alasdair paused and looked serious.

"Well, dinnae fash, I am sure the wee hen wilnae spurn ye just because o' some dirty dishes," Alasdair quipped, but his eyes were watching. Sighing, William put down the plate and grinned.

"Alasdair, promise me one thing," he said, with a sidelong look at his friend. "Dinnae try to woo a woman because ye dinnae stand the first chance!"

Alasdair flashed him a smile. "When I need yer help, I will ask ye. In the meantime, allow me to assist ye."

The advisor began gathering up plates, grabbing leftover tranchers, and clearing away the quaichs and drinks. Instantly, William felt uncertain. With no warning at all, he felt low.

Watching his face, his friend grew thoughtful. "If ye're noo careful, she'll trip o'er yer low chin!" he said, but still William remained grave. Looking at him again, he asked. "What's up wi' ye?"

Catching himself, William unclouded his face. "Och, nothing. I just dinnae ken. She is the brightest light I have ever seen an' sets the room aglow, but, och, what if she doesnae really want to marry me at all?"

Alasdair paused, tilting his head to one side. Putting down the plate, he looked serious.

"Whatever makes ye say that?" he said.

William just frowned. "I dinnae ken," he said uncertainly. He was about to tell Alasdair about his fears and the strange mixed signals that Nora was sending when suddenly, he was unsure. Before he had a chance to say anything, Alasdair jumped in.

"Noo, if anything, I'd say she was vera keen," he observed. William instantly looked. "Or, at least, her father is. I heard him asking if the wedding could be moved forward at all. I told him he was talking to the wrong man."

William drew his brow into a frown again, this time deepening into a crease.

"Ah," he said ponderously. "Well, ye see, he is part o' the problem, an'—"