Page 69 of Highlander of Steel
“Send this man back to MacNairn territory,” she said. “Leave him at the river crossin’ and let him be buried in his own land. Please. All he did was escort me back to ye. He doesnae deserve to be left to rot here for obeyin’ yer command.”
Her father visibly bristled. A moment later, he flicked his wrist, and a small group of soldiers ran forward. It didn’t ease Ailis’s heartbreak in the slightest to watch them tie a rope around Peter’s wrists and fasten the other end to his horse, her lungs seizing as one soldier leaped into the vacant saddle and rode off.
She should’ve known that her father would rather die than show an ounce of respect to a MacNairn, even in death.
With that, he marched onward, leaving her with no choice but to follow.
All the safety and security of being part of Clan MacNairn, of being Killian’s wife, was gone now. The best she could do was make sure that Skye was protected from a father who seemed determined to follow in his own father’s footsteps.
27
“Mousie!” the little girl squealed, stumbling out of her bed with bleary eyes and her dark hair sticking out at odd angles. A sure sign that she had slept well, despite Ailis’s worst fears.
Ailis ran forward and scooped her up into a fierce embrace, hugging her until the child began to wriggle in her arms.
“Ye’ll squash me!” Skye said, laughing giddily.
Ailis loosened her hold, setting the girl on her hip instead, and took a moment to search the child’s face for any sign of harm or pain. When she found none, she carefully ran her fingers through Skye’s hair, seeking out the lock that had been cut. To her confusion, she couldn’t find any hair missing.
Did he use a lock he’d cut before?
She frowned. Therehadbeen a keepsake in a box in her room, a lock of hair that she herself had cut when Skye was two.
Had this all been a cruel ruse to make her think that her niece was in danger? The one thing that would prompt Ailis to come running back to Castle Ainsley?
“Where have yebeen, big mouse?” Skye asked brightly. “Pa said ye’d gone mushroom pickin’. Ye were gone forages.” She squinted at her aunt. “Why do ye look all sad?”
Ailis put on a smile. “Oh, well, I accidentally wandered into a faerie ring and had to convince them to let me go. When I finally emerged from the faerie realm, I wasnae sure what year it was. I thought maybe fifty years had gone by, and when I came to see ye, ye’d be an old woman. So, I’m relieved as anythin’ that ye’re still a wee mousie.”
“Ye were with the faeries?” Skye gasped, her big blue eyes—her mother’s eyes—widening in awe.
Ailis nodded. “Aye, but ye mustnae tell. If ye do, they might come and take me back.” She hesitated. “What of ye? What have ye been doin’ in me absence? Have ye been well? Has anyone… upset ye?”
“Pa wouldnae play with me or tell me a story. That upset me,” the little girl replied, absently picking at the shoulder of Ailis’s dress. “But I did some drawin’ with Molly. This dress is pretty. Did the faeries give it to ye?”
A lump formed in Ailis’s throat. She had forgotten that she was still wearing her wedding dress.
“They did,” she replied. “Ye see, the faerie king wanted to marry me very much, but I couldnae leave ye behind. So I told him I had to go, and… here I am.”
Skye nodded thoughtfully. “Was he handsome?”
“Oh, aye, very handsome,” Ailis said, keeping her voice low. Her father was still outside.
“Did he love ye?”
Ailis’s heart ached as if a blade had plunged through it. “I daenae ken.”
“Did ye love him?” the child pressed.
Ailis could only blame herself. She was the one who had told the little girl so many stories, and in all of them, there was a prince or a princess, or the equivalent, who loved one another very much.
Incapable of answering, Ailis held her tightly for a moment.
“I ken that I love ye, little mousie. And I’m so glad to be back with ye.” She paused, thinking of the lock of hair in her pocket.“I’ll never let any harm come to ye, sweet lassie. And I’ll never let any faerie king stealyeaway when ye’re older.”
“Can ye tell me about the faeries?” Skye asked, pulling back, her little hands gently cupping her aunt’s face.
Ailis smiled. “Of course, mousie. After all, ye should be back in yer bed. I didnae mean to wake ye; I was just so desperate to make sure ye werenae gray and old and hobblin’ along with a cane.”
