“I dinna think ye have to worry about that, lass.”
“I love the stories that we hear about the clan from the elders. Every story will last forever in me heart. And I love the fires of Beltane,” she gushed. “It means that the long winter is over, and summer is coming. I count down the days leading up to it every year.”
He nodded. “I enjoy Beltane as well. It means I’ll soon be able to swim in the loch behind the keep of the McClain lairds, which was one of my favorite things to do as a boy, and I still look back on it fondly.”
Lachlan listened as she described the annual Lughnasadh games and the tradition of handfasting beneath the ancient Rowan tree to unite two souls. “It sounds as if most of our customs are the same as yers, as we observe all the Highland festivals.”
“But perhaps our most cherished pastime is the ceilidh,” Ailis continued, her eyes lighting up with pride as she spoke of the beloved Highland custom. “It is a gathering where we come together to share stories, dance to lively tunes, and strengthen the bonds between our kin and neighbors.”
“We do the same,” Lachlan replied, nodding as he listened intently, clearly captivated more by Ailis’s voice than anything. Each clan had its traditions. How the McAfees celebrated fascinated him.
“As much as I cherish the traditions of me own clan, I am drawn to the warmth and spirit of yers,” Lachlan confessed. “And I love to hear ye talk about anything.”
Ailis smiled warmly, her eyes reflecting the flickering light of the hearth. “Our traditions are a testament to the enduring spirit of our people, a thread that weaves through generations and binds us together in times of joy and sorrow.”
Ailis traced the McAfee crest on one of the tapestries that hung from the wall in the great hall. Lachlan listened, captivated by her explanation of how each knot represented family strength and unity.
“Each thread binds not only the cloth but also our clans,” Ailis continued.
Lachlan compared the artistry to the McClain clan’s symbols etched on sword hilts and mantles. “We still have much to learn of the McAfees.”
Ailis smiled. “I’m glad ye want to learn about us.”
“I’m always happy to learn, especially about our allied clans.”
*
Later, Fiona approachedwith an urgent request for Ailis.
Fiona pointed out a puckered section along the bodice of her wedding gown. “It looks odd, and I’m afraid it will cast a shadow upon the entire day.” She shook her head. “I know I’m being picky, but it is the only time I will be a bride.”
“I’ll ensure every line falls perfectly into place. Ye need not worry,” Ailis reassured her sister.
As Ailis worked, Fiona relaxed, her trust in Ailis’s talents becoming her solace. “Thank ye,” she said, gratitude warming the cool Highland air.
“Think nothing of it,” Ailis replied, focused on the task. “The wedding is all about yer happiness.”
Ailis finished adjusting Fiona’s wedding gown and glanced around the grand hall filled with activity. Servants placed beeswax candles on tables, their flames prepared to flicker into the night. Colorful tapestries depicting McAfee valor and McClain strength decorated the walls, representing the upcoming union.
The collaboration between the two clans filled Ailis with pride and hope for the future. She thought they’d done an admirable job of highlighting both clans.
“Lachlan,” she acknowledged as he approached. Suppressing her emotions, she responded gratefully to his compliment on her decorating skills.
When Lachlan offered to help arrange the feast, Ailis hesitated, torn between propriety and desire. Eventually, she accepted his offer, acknowledging it would reflect their lands’ abundance and people’s spirit.
“Let us make merry in the labor, for the joy of the task is in the sharing of it.” Lachlan grinned. He didn’t add that he simplyenjoyed being around Ailis, whether they worked together or just talked to one another.
In the McAfee keep’s kitchens, rosemary and thyme scents intertwined. Ailis examined parchment scrolls filled with generational recipes while Lachlan stood beside her, emanating confidence.
“Here’s the McAfee roast,” Ailis began, tracing the recipe. “The secret lies in the marinade. It’s a recipe handed down to me from me great-grandmother.”
Lachlan studied it closely. “A fine choice. We McClains prefer different foods for our festivities, but this sounds delicious as well.” He didn’t mention the foods they ate at the McClain celebrations, for how could he explain that women had come back in time to marry into the McClain clan? It would make no sense to most people.
“Let’s combine both for this feast,” Ailis suggested, envisioning tables full of dishes symbolizing unity. And her clan would try new recipes at the same time the McClain clan did.
“That won’t be possible.” Caitlin McClain approached them from behind. “Our recipes are secrets that dinnae leave McClain land, but if ye come to us, ye may taste them. The cooks in our clan are very concerned about the recipes being copied by others.”
Ailis nodded, deferring to Lachlan’s mother. “I understand that each clan has its secrets.” She wanted to ask more questions, but it didn’t seem right. “Clan McClain seems different from others. We’ve all heard the rumors about the seven sons in every generation. Is that why the seventh son is always the one to inherit?”
