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Ewan sent his gaze heavenward. “Why do I even ask?”

“Come now, husband. Have another serving of ale and tell me of your day,” Mairin said with an innocent smile.

“You know well how my day went. I’ve just spent the last half hour with the retelling.”

“Have you yet sent a message to McDonald agreeing to his terms?” Caelen asked.

He looked directly at Keeley, pointedly, as he spoke. Keeley held his gaze, refusing to react to his words.

“Aye, two days past,” Ewan said. “I don’t expect to receive a response until the storm has passed and the snows have stopped.”

“Then we should expect him closer to spring,” Caelen pressed. “He and Rionna.”

“Caelen.”

Alaric said only the one word, but his tone was glacial and as frigid as the winds outside. It was a clear warning to his brother to stop meddling, but it didn’t make Keeley feel any better.

Caelen was warning her. He knew of the attraction between her and Alaric. Keeley wanted to crawl under the table and die of shame.

Instead she nudged her chin up and looked down her nose at Caelen as if he were an annoying insect she was about to squash. That image cheered her considerably. ’Twas the truth she’d enjoy nothing more than giving Caelen a good stomping.

Caelen’s eyebrow went up as if surprised by her daring, and she narrowed her eyes to tell him she knew precisely what he was about.

To her further surprise a slight smile lifted one corner of his mouth. Then he went back to his goblet and promptly ignored her.

Keeley was just about to excuse herself when Cormac returned to the hall, a dazed expression on his face. She arched an eyebrow at Mairin, who looked utterly delighted. Mairin reached under the table and squeezed Keeley’s hand.

Cormac bumped into his chair as he attempted to retake his seat. His color was heightened and his hair … looked decidedly unkempt. Mairin’s smile grew even broader.

Ewan grunted in disgust and Caelen rolled his eyes. Alaric just stared at Keeley until her cheeks warmed under his scrutiny.

“Laird, I have need to speak with you,” Cormac said in a low voice. “ ’Tis of utmost importance.”

Ewan cast a resigned look at his wife and then nodded in Cormac’s direction. “Speak then.”

Cormac cleared his throat and looked nervously around at the people still remaining at the table. Most of the men had gone on to their quarters, but Gannon, Alaric, and his brothers along with Keeley and Mairin yet remained.

“I would ask permission to seek Christina’s hand in marriage,” he blurted out.

Mairin nearly bounced out of her chair and Keeley found herself unable to hold back the smile at the other man’s stunned expression.

“I see. Have you thought this through?” Ewan asked. “Is she truly the one you would marry? And are you sure she wishes to marry you?”

“Aye. ’Tis the truth she said I wouldn’t be kissing her again until we were formally betrothed.”

At that, Keeley and Mairin could hold in their laughter no longer.

“God save us from interfering women,” Ewan muttered. “ ’Twould seem there is much matchmaking afoot in the keep. Aye, Cormac. You have my permission to speak with her father, but I’ll not have your duties disrupted. Your first duty is to see to the safety of my wife. If I find you distracted even once, I’ll dismiss you.”

“Of course, Laird. My loyalty is to you and your lady above all else,” Cormac said.

“Then prepare your speech for her father. We’ll have a priest out as soon as weather permits, and provided, of course, her father is agreeable.”

Cormac fought his grin but the relief and … happiness in his eyes made Keeley go soft all over. She swallowed back her longing and the brief surge of jealousy. She was truly happy for Christina. The young woman would be giddy when Cormac proposed.

She glanced over at Mairin to see that her excitement was mirrored in the other woman. Mairin leaned over and whispered, “We’ll have to query Christina about that kiss on the morrow.”

Keeley put a hand to her mouth to stifle the laughter. “It must have been a kiss for the ages,” she whispered back.

“I’ve had a few of those,” Mairin said wistfully. Then she cast a glance in Ewan’s direction. “Maybe more than a few.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to confide that she, too, had experienced a kiss like no other, but she remained quiet. Instead she glanced Alaric’s way again only to find his gaze caressing her as surely as if he touched her with his hand.

It was as though someone gripped her throat and squeezed. Each breath was torturous, until her chest ached with the effort. She dragged her gaze away and then bolted from her seat at the table. She turned to Ewan first and bobbed an awkward curtsy.

“With your permission, Laird, I would retire above stairs. I find I’m quite tired this eve.”

Ewan nodded and continued his conversation with Alaric.

Keeley then turned to Mairin. “I’ll see you on the morrow. Good eve.”

Mairin shot her a look of sympathy that told Keeley she wasn’t immune to the undercurrents between Keeley and Alaric.

Keeley hurried away but felt the weight of Alaric’s stare the entire time. She couldn’t be away from the scrutiny of those at the table fast enough. She’d already make a fool of herself with all the stolen glances at Alaric. Someone would have to be blind and daft not to sense what was going on.

The climb up the stairs seemed interminable. Her chamber was cold when she let herself in, and shivering, she went about reviving the fire from the nearly dead coals. After adding fresh wood, she stood by the flame a moment to instill warmth in her hands and then went to check the fur covering the window.

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