Page 98 of Highlanders for the Holidays
“I have business to attend to on the large island, Eilean Mor,” he said. “It houses the Lord of the Isles’ Great Hall, his family living quarters, guest quarters, and a chapel. The smaller buildings ye see with thatched roofs are for storage, workshops, and the like.”
Lily’s heart began to race as they walked along the shore of the loch toward the village. She tried to steel herself to part ways with Roderick. When they reached the causeway to the island, just outside the village, she halted.
“Before we say farewell, I want to tell you how grateful I am for all you’ve done for me.” She had to pause to fight the tears stinging the back of her eyes. “You saved my life.”
“Lily—” He started to speak but stepped when she held up her hand.
“I am grateful for the kindness you showed me and…for what we did last night.” She dropped her gaze to her ugly boots and spat out the rest quickly. “You mentioned I might stay with your grandmother. Will I find her in the village? If not, I’m sure I can manage on my own here. Just as you said, this is a good place.”
“I’m not leaving for Skye for a few days,” he said, lifting her chin with his finger. “Are ye that anxious to be rid of me?”
She shook her head.
“We can explore the village later,” he said, “but now we’re going to have a fine meal in the Great Hall while I wait to speak with my chieftain.”
“Me? Eat in the Great Hall?” She was just a lowly shopkeeper.
He looked her up and down. “Aye, we must find ye a gown in the village first.”
Roderick proved as efficient at this as he was at everything else. When he saw a woman beating a rug outside her cottage, he asked her if she had a second gown she would sell for a silver coin. The woman recognized a good bargain when she heard one, and she proved to be both kind and Lily’s size. A short time later, Lily emerged from the cottage wearing a faded but clean blue gown. She had also washed her face and attempted to tidy her unruly hair.
“Ach, ye look lovely,” Roderick said, taking her in from head to toe and back again.
Another lie, to be sure, but she did feel less conspicuous out of the breeches.
The sun was low in the winter sky by the time they crossed the causeway and reached the island, which was overflowing with people and activity. They had to step aside to make way for several carts and horses.
“Is it always like this?” she asked.
“It is whenever the Lord of the Isles is in residence,” he said. “Alexander is celebrating the Yuletide here.”
The guards who stood outside the doors of the Great Hall greeted Roderick with deference, confirming her growing suspicion that this Highlander, whom she had first taken for a wild heathen, was highborn and far above her station. It made her uneasy.
They entered a huge room that must be thirty by sixty feet long, with a roaring fire in a massive stone hearth. She tilted her head back to take in the high ceiling—then belatedly closed her gaping mouth. Despite what Roderick had told her about the Lord of Isles, she had expected his Great Hall to be more on a par with a well-to-do cloth merchant’s home in London. She had never seen such fine furnishings and rich tapestries.
The meal had already begun, and the room was noisy with a hundred conversations. The long tables were loaded with platters of food of all sorts, and servants were still bringing more.
Jewels sparkled on both men and women. Most of the men wore Highland garb like Roderick’s, but there was a sprinkling who looked to be wealthy Flemish, French, and English merchants. The women, except for those who were obviously servants, were dressed like English noblewomen in elaborate headdresses and fine velvet and linen gowns.
Lily’s eyes were drawn to the high table and a tall, golden-haired man with a hawk nose and commanding presence who sat at the center seat. This must be Alexander, the Lord of the Isles, himself. Her imagination got the better of her. Despite the distance and the noisy roomful of people between them, she felt for a moment as if his piercing eyes were fixed on her.
She held fast to Roderick’s arm. As they passed one of the long trestle tables, men nodded or called out to him and women followed him with their eyes. He found room for them at the end of another table, but before they could sit, one of the guards tapped Roderick on the shoulder and spoke to him in Gaelic.
Lily assumed the guard was telling him the seats were taken and they must leave. Closing her eyes, she breathed in the delicious aromas from the heaping platters of food. She would feel more comfortable eating with the servants in the kitchen, if that were permitted, but she dearly wanted to eat.
“We’re invited to sup at the high table,” Roderick said, leaning down so she could hear him over the voices and clatter.
Lily’s pulse leaped. Nobles occasionally came to her shop when they had ailments they did not wish to disclose even to their servants, but she had never been inside such a fine hall before, let alone eaten at a high table.
“Must we?” she asked.
“Aye,” he said, and squeezed her hand. “This is my clan. You’ve nothing to fear here.”
Lily took a deep breath and let Roderick lead her past all the other tables. He held her hand, which made her heart flutter and earned her more than a few frowns and arched brows.
She had expected him to treat her as a mere fellow traveler. After all, they were parting ways here on the Isle of Islay. Instead, he appeared to be proclaiming to his kin that she was something more to him. He glared at the men who stared at them, as if in warning. Why was he sending them the message that she belonged to him? Was it simply to protect her?
Once they were settled near the end of the high table, Lily glanced around at the elaborate dishes and delicacies. She did not know what half of them were. The one with the pig’s head was obviously pork, and she recognized the oysters, beef, lamb, honeyed nuts, and cheeses, but none of those were within reach.
