Page 32 of Twelfth Knight’s Bride

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Aileana’s remark hung in James’s mind, and a furrow creased his forehead. Time. The end to their handfast didn’t have to be so final. They could have all the time they needed to turn his people’s hearts toward her, if she would only give it, but still, his people needed to give an inch, too. Why would she give their marriage an honest try if everywhere she turned, she was shunned? He knew his people were loyal and good folk to him. He’d hoped they would be willing to give Aileana a chance, based on their respect for him, at the very least.

The din of the hall echoed loudly into the gallery as he escorted Aileana to supper. The rich smells of succulent meats and the savory bean cakes wafted to his nose, and clanking, laughter, and benches scooting bounced off the walls in their typical cacophony—a sound that normally gave him pleasure, to know his people were well fortified with food and warmth. Not tonight. Not after today. Not after he’d watched his people quietly spurn Aileana, from the morning Yule log hunt to this evening, finding her in her chambers, unable to avoid embarrassment. Never had he felt such disappointment in the MacDonalds of Clanranald, as he did right now.

But bad blood was apparently too thick and deep to simply wash away like suds off hands. His people had suffered because of Seamus Grant and his Fraser conspirators. Wives had lost husbands. Property had been destroyed. He might have delivered the same retribution to the Grants, but the score clearly wasn’t considered even, by either clan. He’d put Aileana in a grave position, bringing her here for the sake of his inheritance and not considering these deeper ramifications.

He stepped into the hall as Aileana’s hand stiffened in his elbow crook, yet he led her onward without faltering. A hush muted the din at the sight of her on his arm in her contemptible tartan, and for the first time, he felt her embarrassment. Considered how their piercing gazes infused her with discomfort. Instead, he wrapped his other hand over hers, cupping her gripping fingers, and glanced askance at her, noticing her look up at him.

He smiled. She took a deep breath.

She righted her gaze as the chattering intensified once more, but James glanced over her head and caught the eye of the maid Anag upon a bench along the wall with the other maids, clustered together and chattering happily. Anag looked up at them, double taking his dark expression. Her grin fell. Frustration bloomed in his chest, his gaze boring into hers as her eyes widened and redness crept up her neck to her cheeks at her laird’s displeasure, until she had enough shame to look down at her lap.

“There ye are, Lady Aileana,” Brighde chirped merrily as they arrived upon the dais. “I was beginning to worry that ye still felt unwell, though I needn’t have done so, for James worried enough for the both of us.”

Bless his sister. She’d been a kind face to Aileana since her arrival, and after he’d confessed to her about the earrings, he’d felt such shame because Brighde had not only insisted he return them but admonished him, too, as only an older sister could. Seeing Aileana seated beside his sister, James took his seat on Aileana’s other side, at the helm and forked a pile of meats and vegetables upon her empty trencher, as if heaping food at her would somehow make up for the awful feeling churning in his gut about what had happened.

“Are ye excited?” Brighde bubbled to Aileana.

“Excited?” Aileana asked.

“The bean cakes,” his sister replied.

“Oh, aye, the bread smells delicious,” Aileana replied, pasting a smile upon her face.

Wee Maudie, Anag’s young sister, slipped by beneath them, flashing Aileana a bright smile. As if the frost of his people’s disdain melted, a warm smile tipped Aileana’s lips up, and she gave the child a tiny wave. The girl beamed at the treat of her lady’s attention and scampered away. That single gesture warmed the tight lines of Aileana’s face.

“Such a sweet lassie…” she murmured under her breath.

“I’ve never gotten the bean, except for once as a little girl,” his sister continued, and slowly, Aileana seemed to relax.

Yet James’s eyes continued to rove over the hall while Brighde prattled on and Aileana blessedly began to warm to conversation, taking in his people, how they looked upon Aileana, catching their gazes from time to time but letting them go so that he didn’t spiral into glaring. He leaned back and slung an arm over the back of his chair, imbibing slow draughts off his tankard and occasional bites of fish from his eating dagger. Aileana was right. He couldn’t bark at them to respect someone they only knew of as an enemy, for his displeasure might make them obey, but it would only make them disdain him in their hearts, too, and he’d always had a strong relationship with his clan—

“James? Brother, are ye hearing me?”

Brighde’s voice cut through the haze of his pensiveness. Sakes, had she been speaking to him? He leaned forward to look around Aileana to his sister.

“Aye?”

“Lost in thought, are ye?”

“Ye could say that.”

His sister offered him a suspicious smile, as if she knew he’d been thinking about Aileana.

“The kitchens wish to bring out the bean cakes. Are ye going to announce them? It’s the first festivity of the season.”

God’s blood, how his mind was wandering. The head cook stood before him, awaiting his permission, and he hadn’t even noticed her arrival. He pushed to standing, straightened his belts, and glanced at his guardsmen, the serving women, the maids. And forced a pleasant look onto his face.

“We’ve much to celebrate this year!” he boomed. “Prosperity, hard work, and a people who are loyal to each other above all others.” A truth he was realizing more deeply than he’d ever thought before. “I shan’t preamble much, for that is saved for tomorrow night.”

He tried to grin, and his people groaned with good humor, as if enduring a speech from him was akin to their ears bleeding. But the mood was still tense. Beneath the expectant brightness upon the surrounding faces, there lingered curious muttering under their breaths, some glances at him, as if they could tell he was uneasy.

“And so, enjoy the bread. And whosoever finds the bean must make their wish known for all to hear. Bear in mind, it must be a wish I can fulfill—Angus.”

He leveled a knowing glare at his cousin, who laughed at the memory of the previous year, when he’d found the bean and made preposterous wishes for amusement’s sake.

“No wishing for piles of gold this time, laird? Or the MacLeod’s head upon a platter?” Angus shouted, cupping his hand around his mouth, and chuckles rippled through the hall.