Page 37 of The Dragon Laird’s Obsession

I need to find a way to make sure she leaves on her own before I run out of time.

CHAPTER TEN

By the following evening, the men were even more relaxed and enjoyed supper in the yard. It was a beautiful night, well-lit outside with the moon brightening the skies and the winds merciful.

Ailis helped Jane and Beth serve the soup then she sat with Marion for a while as Marion told stories to the men about her time as the Laird’s wife.

Ailis realized she had much to learn from Marion, but only if she stayed here as the Lady of the Keep.

And I willnae, she reminded herself because it was easy to forget her intentions when she felt Gordon watching her over the bright red flames leaking into the night’s skies.

Does he even ken how hard he is starin’? Arghh… he irritates me.

But he did not. Not truly anyway. She liked the prick of heat that rose on the back of her neck from his gaze.

Ailis tried to focus instead on the celebration. She had not planned it so, but helping Beth in the kitchen turned out to be more enjoyable than mucking stables. She did not cook. She had no skill for it. But she helped out in the one way she knew how after years of sneaking into her papa’s study at midnight to read his account books.

Planning the budget was easy. It was bringing the people together that had been difficult. They were extremely cautious of their laird.

She now stood beside Jane, near the long supper table, lifting a platter of roasted venison as the servants moved around them with bowls of pottage, oatcakes, trout, and steaming root vegetables.

“Here,” Ailis said, passing the platter to one of the older men. “And mind ye leave enough for those at the far end.”

“Aye, Ma’am.”

Jane leaned closer. “Ye neednae keep watchin’ every plate.”

“I am nae watchin’ every plate.”

“Ye have counted the oatcakes twice, Ma’am. Ye are exhausted. Ye must rest. I daenae want the Laird to scold me for lettin’ ye overwork yerself.”

Ailis glanced at her. “He willnae,” she said softly. “And I overwork meself because Hugh keeps stealin’ the oatcakes.”

“I heard that,” one of the guards commented, grinning from across the table, and Ailis laughed again.

She did all of that while trying not to turn toward Gordon but failed in the end.

He sat at the high table beneath the dark banner, one hand wrapped around a cup of ale. His expression was unreadable, his shoulders relaxed only in appearance. Candlelight struck one side of his face while the other remained in shadow.

His eyes were on her. Ailis’s breath caught, but he did not look away. Neither did she.

For one moment, the hall seemed quieter.

Then Jane nudged her elbow. “Ma’am?”

Ailis blinked and turned away at once.

Jane gave her a knowing look.

Music began near the hearth not long after. One of the younger men had brought out a fiddle, and another joined him with a small drum. The notes rose over the voices, bright and lively, filling the hall with a warmth that made the stone walls seem less severe.

Marion laughed from her place near the center table.

“Daenae sit there like mourners,” she told the men. “Ye are eatin’, drinkin’ and still have the use of yer legs. Let the dancin’ begin.”

“Aye, Ma’am,” one man called out in a loud voice.

Someone pushed back a bench.