Another young servant hurried past carrying a tray of wooden bowls, nearly stumbling in his haste.
Ian steadied the lad with a firm hand and said quietly, “Easy there, lad. The stew will taste the same even if it reaches the table a moment later.”
The boy flushed red and bowed his head. “Aye, me Laird. Beggin’ yer pardon.”
Ian gave a brief wave to dismiss him and stepped farther into the hall, his gaze drifting instinctively toward the dais. Arianna’s chair beside his own remained empty, though that was little surprise since the supper had not yet begun.
The hall bustled with the noise of early arrivals. Guards stood around the benches, trading rough jokes while tankards slammed loudly upon the wooden tables. Dogs barked and wove between boots in search of early scraps, while servants hurried to and from. The scent of roasted venison and fresh bread drifted through the air from the kitchens as Ian crossed the hall.
A few clan men greeted him with cheerful voices. “Evenin’, me Laird,” one called. “A fine day’s work it was in the lower fields.”
Another lifted his tankard in salute. “Aye, the lads finished the fence line afore sundown. Couldnae ask for better progress.”
Ian inclined his head in acknowledgement as he took his seat. “That’s good to hear. The sheep will keep better behind a strong fence.”
The men continued speaking about the day’s labor, laughing about some mishap involving a stubborn lamb, yet Ian barely listened.
His gaze kept wandering toward the great doors of the hall.
Arianna had not yet appeared.
The noise of the room faded in his mind as memories crept in unbidden. He saw again the dim interior of the carriage and the way her cheeks had flushed beneath his gaze. He remembered the softness of her lips against his and the tremor that had run through her when he brought her to the brink.
Ian’s jaw clenched as the memory burned through him.
I behaved like a starving beast.
He lowered his gaze to the wooden table before him, gripping the edge with quiet force. The laughter of the warriors nearby washed over him, but he scarcely heard it. His thoughts circled endlessly around the same warning he had repeated to himself for days.
Keep your distance. She deserves better than a man who cannot control himself.
Yet despite that firm resolve, his eyes lifted again toward the entrance of the hall. Somewhere deep inside, beneath all his restraint, he found himself hoping that Arianna would appear soon.
Ian had scarcely settled into his chair upon the dais when Flynn approached with two councilmen at his side. Flynn dropped heavily onto the seat beside him, his weathered face carrying the easy grin of a man who enjoyed the noise of a full hall.
George, the eldest of the councilmen, followed with slower steps and folded his hands neatly upon the table. “Evenin’, me Laird,” George said, dipping his head. “We thought it best to speak of a few matters afore the supper grows too lively.”
Ian inclined his head and reached for a tankard set before him. “Aye, speak yer mind then.”
Flynn leaned his elbows on the table, glancing across the crowded hall as if measuring the room’s mood.
“First matter’s the cattle dispute along the eastern pasture,” Flynn said. “MacLeary claims three of the beasts belong to him, though our men swear they were born on McGuire land.”
George sniffed quietly and shook his head. “The man’s been making that claim every season.”
Ian rubbed a hand along his jaw as he listened, his voice calm though his thoughts wandered elsewhere. “Then send two witnesses to inspect the herd,” he said. “If the beasts carry our mark, they remain ours.”
George nodded once. “Aye, that will settle it quick enough.”
Flynn shifted slightly and continued, “There’s also the matter of patrols, me Laird. Two riders reported strange tracks along the northern road.”
Ian’s fingers tightened around his tankard as he listened.
“Strange?” Ian asked. “What makes them strange?”
Flynn lowered his voice slightly, though the hall roared with laughter around them. “Too many for traders, too light for soldiers. Often, with campfires deserted. It may be nothing, but the men thought it wise to report.”
"Aye, good they did," Ian replied,
