Page 28 of Highlander of Steel
Peter pulled a face. “Thatbad, eh?”
He promptly poured himself a generous measure and sank into the armchair opposite Killian, the glow of the roaring fire dancing across the side of his face.
“I thought ye might be smilin’ for once in yer life,” he said, taking his first sip. “It’s nae encouragin’ when a groom isnae giddy about his weddin’.”
Killian grimaced. “Ye’re still unconvinced?”
“I think… yer plan is clever, and might work if we were feudin’ with someone else, but ye’re nae dealin’ with a sane man,” Peter replied hesitantly. “It would be better to drop it. Fraser’s as good as dead in that castle. Marryin’ the lass willnae change it. Ye cannae save him, as much as ye might nae want to hear it.”
Ordinarily, Killian trusted his man-at-arms’ opinion and heeded his advice more often than not. But, in this, they were not in agreement.
He had already lost his father; he would not lose his brother, too. Nor would he give the wretched Ainsleys what they had demanded in their letter.
If he backed down now, if he did not do something they weren’t anticipating, it would display a weakness that they would jump on, and the MacNairns would lose this war. More than the war, they would lose territory and honor, disgracing the memory of those who had already fallen.
“It’s nae about savin’ him,” Killian said. “It’s about freein’ all of us from Laird Ainsley’s tyranny and thirst for blood. Me braither is just a part of it.”
“And if it doesnae work?” Peter pressed.
Killian shot him a dark glare. “It must.” He drained his glass and took a deep breath. “Send an invitation to Ainsley. The weddin’ will take place in a week at the chapel by the river. Tell him that I expect to see me braither there. Otherwise, I’ll claim hislands as a dowry.”
Peter knocked back his whiskey and refilled their glasses before asking in a strained voice, “Are ye sure?”
“If we want this war to end, there’s nay other way,” Killian replied, his resolve hardening.
As he sipped his whiskey more slowly and fixed his gaze on the flickering flames, he allowed his mind to wander back to that kiss—an island of peace amidst a sea of chaos.
Ailis hadn’t moved in hours. She had returned to her chambers in a daze, only meaning to perch on the chaise longue for a moment to catch her breath and gather her thoughts. Instead, she had stayed there, staring at the fire, until it seemed she might have become part of the chaise.
The maids had been in and out to clear away the dishes, and had returned with dinner, which they had also cleared away, untouched. There was no room for hunger when her stomach had been taken over by a pit of writhing snakes… and a few fervent butterflies.
A crackle of the fire snapped her out of her trance, a spark landing on the protective flagstones that surrounded the fireplace.
“What are ye doin’?” she mumbled to herself, her head turning toward the window.
Sometime between returning to her room and seeing that spark, it had gotten dark. Stars twinkled in an inky sky, the moon offering little illumination.
“Was I asleep?” she whispered, touching her fingertips to her lips. “Was that a dream?”
It might have been easier if it hadbeen a dream, swiftly dismissed as a foolish imagination. But her lips were still somewhat tender where Killian had kissed her fiercely, and she had kissed him back with equal fervor. Meanwhile, her body’s reaction to the memory—a tingling rush of warmth, a quickening of her breath and heart—made certain that she knew it was real.
“I shouldnae have done that, lest ye mistake me intentions.”
His parting words circled in her mind like vultures, eager to pick at the carrion of her confusion.
What was she supposed to think about Killian kissing her suddenly? What was she supposed to think about the fact that she had kissed him back, and not shyly? What did he mean by those words? Did he mean that he didn’t want her to think that his proposal was anything more than a means to an end? Did he mean that he didn’twant her to think that?
Her head felt like it might explode.
Her awareness of the volatile sea crashing against the cliffs in an unnerving drumbeat did nothing to help matters. The wavessounded like distant voices whispering together, growing louder and dipping softer, each undulation sending a shudder down her back.
“I cannae marry him,” she said thickly. “I willnae marry him.”
In a way, it didn’t matter what he had meant. She couldn’t do as he had commanded, not with Skye still trapped at Castle Ainsley. Murdock knew how much Ailis cared for that sweet girl, and though he might not be wicked enough to use his daughter as a sacrifice, their father wouldn’t hesitate.
Ailis got up, her legs stiff from sitting in the same position for hours.
Killian thinks he’s solved this, but he’ll only make things worse. He doesnae ken me faither as I do.
