Page 2 of Kilted Seduction
Aedan scowled. He had little time or patience for strangers, less still for a woman who would ‘demand’ to see him, a laird in his own right. He was about to tell the guard to send her off, with a good shove if necessary, when a rumble of thunder recalled his attention to the storm outside.
It wasn’t a fit night out for man nor beast, and he couldn’t send a woman away in that weather. More to the point, she must be desperate indeed if she’d risked traveling even a short distance in such dangerous conditions. He sighed and swallowed his anger. “Fine, bring her up.”
The guard nodded and disappeared. Mac spoke up. “What dae ye think this woman wants? It must be important, tae be out in the storm.”
“If I had tae guess, I’d say ‘twas a woman seekin’ the aid, come tae ask me permission tae tak’ the healer from the castle.” It was about the only scenario he could imagine being dire enough that one would brave the elements after nightfall.
Another knock on the door announced the return of the guard with their guest. Aedan straightened from where he’d been slouched against a wall. “Enter.”
The door swung open. Aedan stared.
He’d expected the woman to be somewhat bedraggled. That was unavoidable, given the storm outside. He hadn’t expected her to look as if she’d jumped in a bathing pool fully clothed, then rolled through the mud, slid down a hill, and upended a basin over her head. She was drenched, her clothing sodden and stained, and her hair tangled and windblown, despite the obvious signs that it had been braided at some point.
She was also wearing only one shoe, her other foot bare and wet, as well as muddied to the hem of her skirt.
Despite all that, she was a bonny looking lass - hair the blue-black of a raven’s wing under the mud, deep blue eyes, slender, willowy build, and pale skin, almost luminous with the water shining off it. Her face held dignity and self-assurance, despite her circumstances, and she faced him with her head up and her back straight.
Aedan wasn’t sure whether to offer her a blanket and a bed, a bath, or ask her if she’d been lost. He settled for asking the first question that came to mind. “And who might ye be, lass?”
“Thora MacTavish. I came because I had tae speak tae ye.”
Aedan raised an eyebrow. “I can see that, since ye apparently didnae even stop tae make sure ye had both shoes on.”
A bright flush spread over her cheeks. “I assure ye, I had both shoes when I left home. But me horse got spooked crossing a bog. I dismounted tae try and calm him, but I stumbled intae a deep spot and lost me shoe escapin’ it. And the horse bolted.”
There were plenty of bogs on the moors that could trap the unwary. In a storm like this, it would be all too easy to miss a step and lose one’s footwear escaping. Aedan turned to Mac. “Speak tae the servants and see if ye can find a pair in the lass’s size.” He glanced at her feet. They were small and dainty. “Ye might need tae borrow a pair from one o’ the children in the castle.” He grinned.
Mac coughed, his expression showing the amusement he was trying to avoid voicing aloud. “Aye, me laird.”
He and the guard took their leave. Aedan waited until the door closed before he turned to his bedraggled guest. “So, Thora MacTavish, what brings ye tae…”
He didn’t get any further before she interrupted him. “I’ve come tae warn ye. I’m a seer, and I have dreams pertaining tae the future. Yer clan is in grave danger unless ye listen tae me.”
Aedan blinked at her, startled by the sudden intensity of her gaze. “What are ye talking about?”
“Yer clan is in danger. Clan Ross will move against ye soon unless ye act now. Ye must attend Laird Ross’s Yule celebration. ‘Tis the only way tae prevent the attack that will cause yer clan tae fall.”
Aedan stared. Her eyes held no sheen of madness, nor any signs of delirium and yet, what she was saying made no sense.
His allies - however uncomfortable the relationship - would attack him? The only way to prevent the attack from destroying his clan was to attend the Yule celebration hosted by the same man who would theoretically try to destroy it.
And she knew all of this because of – what? A prophetic dream?
Aedan began to laugh.
CHAPTER TWO
Thora wasn’t sure how she’d expected Laird Cameron to respond, but she hadn’t expected him to laugh at her. She flushed with embarrassment but stepped forward, intent on making him understand. “This isnae funny, Laird Cameron. Ye must listen tae me and dae as I suggest, or yer clan will fall.”
“Ye expect me tae tak’ yer words seriously, lass? Ye had a prophetic dream that says tae tell me me allies will try tae destroy me, and the only way tae stop him is tae attend the Yule celebration? Dae ye nae ken how strange ye sound?”
“O’ course I ken what it sounds like, but ‘tis the truth. ‘Tis a gift o’ mine. I see the things that will come tae pass.” Thora wracked her brain for some way to prove her words. “I ken that ye decided nae tae go tae the celebration.”
She saw him start, and knew her words had hit home, but the expression of confusion was gone before she could say anything more. “I dinnae think me decision is any business o’ yers, lass.”
“But it is. I’m tellin’ ye, Laird Cameron, that yer clan is in grave danger. If ye dinnae attend the Yule feast at Castle Ross, then the next time ye see Laird Ross, ‘twill be when he attacks yer clan, and ye willnae win. Yer clan will fall, and Laird Ross will go on tae conquer others, as many as he can reach. Yer family will perish, whole and entire. Yer people will be treated like serfs, or worse, their crops and coin tak’n tae fill his storehouses and coffers, until whole families starve in the winter months.”
“Clan Ross and Clan Cameron are allies and have been fer years.” His expression was implacable, unyielding. “Are ye tryin’ to make me turn against me allies? Is it what this is – a political game of sorts? What proof have ye o’ yer words?”
