***
Anna could not believe it when a second clan arrived the next day—the MacGills. How many more would come? Rumors had spread that the elders were searching for a bride for their new chief. Anna wondered what Neacal thought of this. Judging by the annoyed expression on his face, he was extremely irked. He had not spoken with her in a few days and she wondered why. It had something to do with the kiss, but she was not certain whether he was angry with her or with himself.
The ladies who were arriving certainly were beautiful, and young. Girls of around seventeen summers. Anna had also been seventeen when she'd married, so 'twas naught unusual.
Still, the idea that Neacal could potentially wed one of these lasses caused jealousy to rip a hole through her. Although she had no claim on him, his kiss had delved into her soul. She wished for it again… could not sleep at night… thought of him every moment. How foolish was she? Neacal was beyond her reach and, at present, far above her social station. Although she had been a lady in the past, her false identity made her little more than a servant who sang for her supper. He would never want to marry her, and even if he did, there was the problem with Blackburn.
Through the doorway, she peered into the great hall toward the high table where Neacal sat with his esteemed guests. Although at times he appeared miserable, she could tell he was putting forth much effort to be friendly and welcoming to the other clans. He belonged there with them at the high table, but she no longer sat at any high table as she used to.
"Are you well?"
Anna jerked around to find Tavia standing next to her. "Aye."
She looked to where Anna had been staring. "The chief holds you in high regard," Tavia said.
Anna searched her face, wanting to know what she meant exactly. "As I do him."
"He asks after your health each day."
Anna frowned, both surprised and confused. "He asks you? About me?"
"Aye. I've assured him you are well healed, but still he asks."
"Why wouldn't he simply ask me how I am?"
Tavia shrugged. "Men are ever a mystery. 'Haps you should talk to him."
Indeed, Anna would love to talk to him, but he'd been more aloof the past few days. She assumed he regretted kissing her and perhaps felt awkward about it. "And how is he dealing with all these guests and… young ladies?"
"He detests it." Tavia gazed out toward him. "He looks miserable, does he not?"
"Aye." His expression clearly said he was both annoyed and bored. Did none of those sitting by him notice?
"Even though I'm not truly old enough to be his mother, he has become like a son to me since he was so badly injured. I fed him; I bathed him like a child." Tavia blinked back tears. "And now I only wish to see him happy. I have not heard his laugh since before his capture."
Anna nodded, her throat tight. "I want him to be happy, too."
"When he looks at you, or talks about you, sometimes it seems he is about to smile. I think you're more important to him than you realize."
Anna's heart felt as if it leapt into her throat and her face heated. "Surely you jest."
Tavia shook her head. "He worries over you constantly."
Anna stared at the floor for she knew not how to respond to that.
"Saints," Tavia whispered. "Now which clan is this?"
Anna followed her gaze to see more strangers entering the great hall from outside. Two beautiful young ladies this time, along with their older female relatives and various clansmen. Her gaze darted to Neacal, sitting at the high table. Even from this distance, she saw the muscle jump in his jaw. The annoyance in his sharp blue gaze intensified. He shoved his chair back, arose and stepped from the dais. He strode between the lower tables filled with people and offered his hand to a tall, brawny dark-haired man… a chief she recognized.
Anna's breath froze within her chest. 'Twas the chief of the Hamilton clan. She had met him two years prior. He was an acquaintance of the beast who had forced her to marry him. Saints! She could not let him see her. He would surely get word to Blackburn as to her whereabouts.
