Page 31 of Highlander of Steel
Rachel laughed. “The Laird said ye’d say that.”
“Then why are ye askin’ me to choose a color for a gown that doesnae need to be made?” Ailis countered, her nerves spiking.
Am I really goin’ to marry him? Do I have a choice?
She could think of far worse prospects. Killian was handsome, cared fiercely for his clan and family, seemed to be kind toward his servants, and kissed in a way that made her feel more alive than she ever had. If she were to make a list, he would be more than a suitable candidate. He would be any woman’s dream.
The trouble was, it would undoubtedly trigger a nightmare.
“I think I can answer that,” a different voice interjected from the doorway. Paisley stood there with a shy smile. “And I’m nae makin’ concoctions for beauty, Ailis, so daenae listen to Rachel. Yedaenae need any help in that regard. I’m makin’ tonics for vitality, stress, and good sleep.”
Ailis heaved a small sigh of relief, despite her annoyance at Paisley for informing Killian about her near-fainting spell.
“Have ye been sent to convince me?” she asked wryly, wrapping herself in a blanket to stave off the morning chill. The fire hadn’t been relit yet, since she preferred to do it herself.
Paisley pulled a face, half-apologetic, half-guilty. “I’ve been sent to tell ye that, as a wedding gift, the Laird means to steal Skye from Castle Ainsley.” She stepped further into the room. “While the weddin’ is takin’ place, men will be sent to the castle to rescue yer niece.”
“What?” Ailis gasped, her heart leaping to her throat.
“Peter has agreed to go—the Laird’s man-at-arms—and there’s nay one more capable than him,” Paisley explained. “Well, maybe Fraser, but I’m biased.”
Ailis scrambled out of the bed, too shocked to stay in the warmth of the coverlets. “Are ye serious?”
“Aye.” Paisley smiled, a touch of nervousness in her eyes. “The hope is that Fraser will be returned at yer weddin’, so we daenae have to worry about rescuin’ him anymore. This weddin’, with any luck, will see ye and yer niece reunited, me and me love reunited, and ye and the Laird united. I’m nae so convinced it’ll unite the clans, but… there’s a chance, and I daresay we have to take it.”
Wrapping her arms around herself, Ailis approached the healer. “Andye’rewillin’ to take that risk with yer beloved’s life?”
“I am,” Paisley replied, “because it’s either this or waitin’ for him to die in a dungeon. If nothin’ else, I’ll get to see him again. Maybe it’ll all erupt, but I’ll get to see him again. And I ken it’s a lot to ask of ye—to marry a man who kidnapped ye from yer home—but I believe this is the only hope we have, and when ye have hope, however small, ye cannae let it go.”
Ailis stared at the courageous healer, who raised her eyes as if to hold back her tears.
If this woman could have such faith in Killian’s plan, with her beloved’s life at stake, then perhaps Ailis could find a little faith in it too.
After all, Paisley wasn’t a foolish woman. She was keenly intelligent, she had probably seen more of the ravages of war than most, and she would’ve told Killian it was an idiotic plan if she thought it was. Being his brother’s beloved, practically a sister-in-law, she had that privilege.
“All ye have to do is agree,” she said with a sad smile. “If nae, the Laird willnae force ye.”
“But a lot is restin’ on me sayin’ I will?” Ailis prompted.
Paisley shrugged. “That’s nae for me to say. It has to be yer decision. He wouldnae make ye a captive in a marriage any more than he’s made ye a captive in his castle.”
Breathless with the pressure of not knowing what to say, Ailis turned around and walked to the windows. She tugged the drapes aside to allow the morning light in and narrowed her gaze on the strip of land between the castle and the sea.
Seagulls wheeled and squawked, a trio of rooks glided through the air, while a kestrel hovered over a patch of heath, waiting to strike. She supposed she was looking for a sign, but the sights were conflicting.
Then, she heard it. The gentle coo of a dove, somewhere nearby. Up on the slanting roof that overhung the windows, perhaps.
Peace. The bird of peace.
She closed her eyes and swallowed past the nervous lump in her throat. “Green.”
“Pardon?” Paisley and Rachel chorused.
“Green,” Ailis repeated. “The gown should be green.”
Her stomach flipped. She couldn’t believe she was going to marry Killian, or that she had made up her mind, just like that. No doubt it would take longer to accept that she was going to be his wife. But Paisley was right; if there was even the smallest chance that this could work and that Skye would be safe, then she had to try. For all their sakes.
“Any particular shade of green?” Rachel asked excitedly.
