Page 56 of Kilted Seduction
Aedan nodded. “Taenight will be the burning o’ the Yule Log, and the Yuletide Feast tae mark the beginning o’ Twelfth Night festivities. We can remain for that, then find a reason tae leave. Any sooner would be suspicious, especially since we’ve already been tae tell Laird Lachlan o’ what happened.”
“As ye will. But remain cautious, me laird.” Mac nodded, then stepped aside for the two of them to enter the Great Hall for the morning meal.
The meal, as well as the morning that followed, were surreal for Thora. Lachlan was absent, supposedly taking care of searching for their assailants, in the meantime, she found herself surrounded by lairds who were still expressing their gratitude for her actions of two days before, and women who ran a gamut of emotions.
Some of the ladies expressed gratitude for her actions. Others seemed uncertain as to whether or not defending the lairds if they were ‘fool enough tae put themselves in danger’ was worthwhile. And still others questioned why a woman had gone out with the men in the first place, for what was traditionally a man’s activity.
There was also the matter of her rescue of the child, though the women were far less divided about the merits of doing so. Instead, they were determined to question why a woman with a new husband - a handsome, strong, honorable and virile husband - had been wandering around outside. Their questions were all perfectly polite, and not unexpected, but there was an undercurrent of suspicion.
Of course. She was supposedly a village lass who’d happened to marry a laird. Of course they’d be suspicious of her wandering unescorted through the castle and traveling alone with the men. She did her best to dissuade them, but it was difficult to lay their fears to rest when she couldn’t divulge the truth about her Gift.
It was a relief to remove herself from the group as they dispersed after the noon meal to prepare for the evening festivities. Despite her concerns, Thora found herself looking forward to it.The Yule tide season had always held special meaning for her, as a representation of dark giving way to light.
Rhiannon had packed a deep forest green dress with red embroidery and a shimmering white bodice. It was somewhat simple, but beautiful and elegant all the same.
Aedan was likewise attired in a formal kilt, white stockings, a white shirt with green lacing, and a sash, along with his rank torc. Once again, his sword was at his side, as was custom, but it had been bound to the sheath with green cords to signify peace. Thora could only hope they wouldn’t need to be broken.
They took their seats at the High Table, close to Laird Ross as usual. To her surprise, Lachlan’s eyes settled on her, and a faint look of surprise crossed his features. “Lady Cameron, lovely as usual. But I wonder… ye dinnae wear the Cameron formal tartan? Or a ring, I’ve seen.”
“Och…” She and Aedan hadn’t even thought of the ring. “The wedding was so sudden, I didnae have a ring that was suitable. Me laird is having one made in me size.”
“Aye. Me maither’s is too large.” Aedan agreed. “But ‘twas nae finished afore the wedding, and afore we decided tae come tae yer celebration.”
“I see. Well, it cannae be helped.” Lachlan nodded. “Though I confess… I was surprised the day afore yesterday. The tree came down, and ye didnae reach fer yer husband. He might have been injured.”
Thora felt a tingle of unease coil in her stomach. His questions were too pointed. Too sharp. “I cannae explain… it all happened so fast… I saw the men in danger and I just acted.”
“Aye. It was impressive. I must say I’m fair surprised how often ye seem tae be in place tae prevent a disaster. ‘Tis almost uncanny.”
The unease got sharper.Does he somehow ken about me gift? But if he did, he’d have tae ken me identity, would he nae? How?
“Me wife has a tendency tae either excellent luck, or terrible luck. Sometimes, ‘tis difficult tae tell which,” Aedan spoke up.
“And ye wed her? I would have thought yer clan would consider it too dangerous tae have a laird’s wife who was prone tae danger.”
“Aye, well… as a laird, I dae have the right tae make me own choices.” Aedan shrugged. “And I cannae say it daesnae have benefits.”
“I’m sure it daes.” Lachlan waved an offhand gesture. “I confess, ‘twas only a passing thought that caught me interest. I didnae mean tae discomfort ye.”
“Nay discomfort at all.” Aedan smiled back, apparently at ease. “’Tis only reasonable.”
Any other person might have believed he was unconcerned. Thora, however, could see the tension in his shoulders, and the wariness in his eyes. He was as on alert as she was, and as unnerved about the tone of Laird Ross’s questions.
The servants began to dim the torches in preparation for lighting the Yule Log. The guests arrayed themselves around the log on which twelve large candles had been placed.
In ceremonial splendor, Laird Ross took a taper from the High Table and approached the Log, where he lit all the candles one by one. The taper was set aside, and he turned to face the assembled clan-folk and guests as everyone lifted their goblets of Yuletide wassail. “May all present here witness with me the coming o’ a bountiful Yule and pray fer blessings and a prosperous year. As darkness turns tae light, and the dead o’ winter tae the life o’ spring, may our fortune grow with the coming o’ new life and warmth throughout the land!”
Thora raised her goblet in toast and drank deep alongside everyone else. She suspected that Laird Ross prayed more for his own fortune and prosperity than for anyone else’s, but she could still support the toast wholeheartedly.
Afterward, the remainder of the wine was poured over the hearth, and three young pages approached the Yule Log. Each, with painstaking ceremony, lit a candle from the Log, then turned and marched to the fireplaces. Each fireplace was lit, and maids came forward with evergreen sprigs for each guest to give to the fire - the ceremonial burning of troubles and request for blessings.
Thora shiver as she knew the branches were part of the very same tree that had felled her. From the hiss of breath between his teeth, Aedan was presumably thinking the same thing. Still, she forced herself to pick up a sprig and approach the blazing fire.
She to burned the danger Laird Ross posed to her clan and the rest of the Highlands. As for her prayer, that was easy.
I pray fer safety fer all o’ us, and a future that includes Aedan - an Aedan who doesnae hate me fer the secret I’ve kept.
Aedan approached the fire with his evergreen sprig, his heart hammering. He knew what he wished to banish, and what he would pray for, but it was hard to focus his thoughts.
