Page 39 of The Dragon Laird’s Obsession

Ailis sensed instantly there was more to say.

She looked toward Gordon properly. He had already turned his cup between his fingers. “I am content to listen,” he said.

Marion shook her head. “Ye always say that.”

“And I mean it.”

“Aye, but tonight, I am askin’ ye to play.”

Gordon’s jaw tightened.

Everyone waited, and Ailis watched him, curious despite herself.

She could not imagine Gordon sitting with a musical instrument. The man looked as though he had been carved for sword practice and grim council meetings. Ailis could not imagine his fingers doing anything delicate.

“Please, Me Laird,” one of the children present called.

Someone else joined her. “Aye, Me Laird. Play for us.”

Gordon looked around the gathering then his gaze landed on Ailis.

Her heart stumbled. For a moment, she thought he would refuse.

Then he set down his cup and rose. Everyone quieted. Ailis watched him cross toward the clarsach resting beside the hearth. He sat, adjusting the instrument upon his knee with a familiarity that surprised her.

His large hands settled against the strings. The first note sounded, and Ailis nearly stopped breathing.

The music was soft. Not mournful exactly but tender. The notes moved slowly through the hall, delicate beneath his rough fingers. There was something old in the melody, something that reached beyond the castle walls and the people gathered there.

Ailis’ chest tightened. She knew that melody. Not the exact arrangement but the song itself.

Me mother used to sing it.

Ailis’ fingers curled around the fabric of her skirts.

Nay… it could not be.

Another phrase came, and suddenly, she was small again. Curled near the hearth beneath a blanket while her mother brushed her hair. The smell of lavender and warm wool filled her nostrils. A soft voice singing beneath the winter wind she rarely remembered.

“My wee lass. Close yer eyes,” Gordon sang out as he played.

Ailis swallowed hard, her eyes burning, then looked at Gordon once more. He played with his head slightly bowed, his red hair falling near his face. He looked different like this. His hands moved gently across the strings, drawing something achingly beautiful from the instrument.

A tear gathered in her eyes, but she blinked rapidly to get rid of it.

Nae here. Nae before everyone.

Another note sounded, and her mother’s voice returned in her memory, warm and soft.

Ailis’ throat closed, and she pushed back from the table before she could take another breath.

The bench scraped against the rushes.

Several heads turned in her direction, and Gordon’s fingers faltered.

He looked up at her. Their eyes met, and her heart panged again. Ailis shook her head, a breath escaping her as she feared she would choke.

Gordon finished the song though his fingers no longer moved with the ease they had at the beginning. The last note lingered beneath the rafters, soft and fading, until the hall fell quiet.