Stealing a Kilted Heart (Temptation in Tartan #8)

Chapter 12

CHAPTER TWELVE

I t was not a ball, but it was not a dinner either. Rather, it was an event in between, not as tedious as a ball and not as intimate as a dinner, with the entire council and the wives of those men invited for the night, along with a few more high-ranking men and their wives or sisters.

It was still a tedious affair, Knox thought.

There were more important things to do as far as he was concerned, but Magnus had been adamant that a gathering like this would be to everyone’s benefit. The council was restless, the wives concerned. There was an air of uncertainty and fear permeating the castle and that was the last thing Knox wanted. Whenever doubt crept into his ranks, he had to identify it quickly and nip it in the bud before it could spread among his men, regardless of their station.

And there truly was no better way to do this other than throw a small, yet lavish feast to reassure everyone that everything was under control.

Dressed in a finer tunic than the one he had been wearing that morning for his ride with Fia, Knox sat at the table at the very end of the hall, from where he could oversee the rest of the tables. It had taken them a while to leave Duror earlier that day, since so many of the villagers had wanted to speak with him, but on the way back, he had invited her to the feast, thinking that perhaps she would enjoy it since Effie would be there, too. Up until then, though, Fia hadn’t shown up, much to his disappointment.

He couldn’t remember a day better spent in recent memory. Knox enjoyed Fia’s presence, her company. There was an energy about her that was calming, that helped him to forget about all his troubles even if it was only for a little while. He wished he could always have that calm.

But how? It’s nae as if I could wed her.

He was well aware of that, even if his mind resisted the truth. There was no future in which he could wed a woman who was not of noble blood. As the laird of the clan, it had always been his responsibility to marry a woman who could give him a useful alliance, someone who would help him unite his clan with an ally.

And yet, his gaze still searched the crowd for her, for a glimpse of her honey blonde locks or her brilliant smile, anything that would reveal her presence and alleviate the strange ache in his chest.

It was an infatuation, perhaps, one that would pass soon enough. Lust. He was simply dazzled by Fia’s good looks and pure heart, but that didn’t mean he felt something more for her. It was easy to claim she was unlike anyone else he had met, but surely, there had to be more women out there like her. She couldn’t be the only one.

“Ach, there she is!” said Effie, her voice calling from Knox’s left, where she was sitting next to Magnus. “I thought she wouldnae come.”

Knox’s gaze immediately flew to the door, where Fia and Bane stood, both of them looking a little out of place among the rest of the guests. Knox didn’t think it was their dress which singled them out; rather, it was the way they held themselves, as though they thought they didn’t fit in at all.

He supposed it was a valid concern to have. He had never entered a room where he felt like he didn’t belong—he had never even really entered a room without feeling like he could command everyone in it, capturing their attention and their hearts. He couldn’t understand how Fia and Bane felt in that moment or what he could do to make them more comfortable.

Still, he excused himself and stood, weaving his way through the small crowd to get to them. When they spotted him, they both snapped up to attention, their backs straight, bowing to him as he approached.

“Welcome,” Knox said, gesturing to them to come further into the great hall. Their arrival had drawn some gazes, the nobles surely wondering why they were there at all. He could hear the whispers around them, low and conspiratorial, but no one yet dared to say anything to his face. It was nothing out of the ordinary, though; nobles enjoyed gossiping, that much was widely known, and they were rarely fond of outsiders. “Seats have been reserved fer ye but feel free tae walk around as ye please.”

Between them, Knox saw Fia’s and Bane’s hands tightly clasped, the two of them holding onto each other. Not for the first time, he couldn’t help but wonder if they were lying to him, after all.

Neither Fia nor Bane had ever attended such a feast before. Celebrations had been frequent, if not particularly extravagant, in Duror, with everyone gathering around bonfires and chipping in with anything they could spare—food, drink, even decorations, all the villagers coming together to enjoy the evening. There had been plenty of special occasions, as there was little else for them to do, but none of them came close to the feast that was now before her eyes.

It was a small one, Fia knew. Laird Stuart had said so himself when he had invited her, claiming that it was only for his council and a few select soldiers, and yet there was so much meat, so much fresh produce, and the wine flowed freely into the cups of the guests. In Duror, such feasts were only reserved for the holiest of holidays, like Yule. Any other time, they made do with what they could spare.

“Look at them,” Bane whispered in her ear, bending close so that she could hear him. She didn’t need to follow his gaze to know he was talking about the nobles in the room. “Such indulgence… their clothes alone must be more expensive than our houses.”

There was a hint of bitterness in Bane’s tone. Fia had never much cared for material possessions. As long as she had enough to survive, she could be content. And yet, she couldn’t blame Bane for his comments. Perhaps the clothes the nobles wore were not worth enough to build a house, but they were enough to feed several of the people in Duror who were in need.

Dae they ken? Would they care if they did?

There was one thing for certain; neither she nor Bane could blend in with that crowd. One glance at them was enough to set them apart from anyone else and Fia had half a mind to ask Bane to leave immediately, manners be damned.

Before they could flee, though, Laird Stuart appeared in front of them, welcoming them to the feast, and it was then Fia knew they would be trapped in the great hall for the better part of the evening. Reflexively, she reached for Bane’s hand, the two of them holding onto each other for dear life.

“Good evenin’,” Fia said with one of her awkward curtsies. Despite her lessons with Bane, she had yet to master the skill and her nerves only made her knees shake even more, throwing off her balance. She was not an easily frazzled woman—she had seen illness and death, blood and gore. And yet, being surrounded by these people unnerved her unlike anything else. “Thank ye fer invitin’ us, but?—”

“Fia!” a familiar voice called and Fia’s head snapped to the side to see Effie weaving her way through the crowd as she approached them. She was waving at her excitedly and Magnus was trailing after her, the two of them coming to a halt right next to Laird Stuart. “I feared ye wouldnae come. How lovely that ye’re both here! Come, I’ll introduce ye tae everyone.”

Fia didn’t know if that was a good idea, but she had no time to protest before Effie grabbed her hand and dragged her off. Refusing to let go of Bane, Fia ended up dragging him along, too, the three of them rushing off in a line towards whoever Effie had put in her sights. Soon, they mingled with a group of women, who were standing in a small circle, laughing and drinking the night away.

Effie introduced her and Bane to them all, but Fia didn’t manage to hold on to any of the names, no matter how much she tried to focus. There was half a dozen of them, and they were all eager to talk, it seemed, which only served to make Fia want to talk even less.

What can I say tae them?

“It truly is a shame Laird Stuart couldnae arrange a larger ball,” said one of them, a young woman with dark hair and piercing blue eyes. “It’s been a while since the last time we had one.”

“Och aye, how long has it been?” asked another, this one older, her hair greying at the temples. “A few months, at least.”

“Dinnae fash,” said Effie. “I’m sure the Yule celebrations will be grand. They will more than make up fer it.”

All Fia wanted was to melt into the shadows, and she could tell Bane wanted the same thing. He was standing right behind her, stiff and silent, and Fia couldn’t help but feel sorry for dragging him along when she could have let him escape this. Still, she was too selfish to let his hand go. He was the only one who could offer her any support, even in his silence.

It wasn’t long before the women’s attention shifted to the two of them. The younger woman, upon noticing Bane better, asked, “Are ye husband an’ wife?”

“Nay!” Fia was quick to say. She didn’t know why everyone assumed that from the moment they saw them. “Nay, he’s me braither.”

The woman’s attitude shifted immediately, even if the effect was barely noticeable. She stood a little straighter, her gaze lingering on Bane, and Fia had to suppress a laugh at the panicked look on his face.

“I’ve heard ye’re both very skilled,” she said. “We ken everythin’ about Miss MacKenzie, but nae one ever talks about ye, Mr. ….?”

“Bane,” Bane gritted out. “Just Bane.”

“Ye ken everythin’ about me?” Fia asked, shocked by the news. In retrospect, she should have known everyone in the castle talked. It was only natural that rumors about her would be spread, whether true or false, and she couldn’t help but wonder what, precisely, they thought they knew. The idea of people talking behind her back left her in a cold sweat. How many times had Callum spoken behind her back? How many of his friends had done the same?

“We ken plenty,” another woman said. She was tall and willowy, with a patrician profile, and though her tone was friendly, there was something about her that left a bitter taste in the back of Fia’s mouth. “When I heard we would get a healer from Duror, ye werenae quite what I imagined. Villagers make excellent servants, but when it comes tae a healer…”

The air around them all seemed to go cold, a chill spreading throughout the group. Most of the women shuffled awkwardly, their gazes falling to the floor, but there were also a few who stared openly, as if waiting to see what would happen. When Fia glanced at Effie, she found her red-faced, a muscle in her jaw ticking as she clenched her teeth.

“I can assure ye Miss MacKenzie is a skilled healer.”

Laird Stuart’s voice cut through the silence and every head in the group turned around to stare at him. Fia hadn’t even noticed his presence by her side. He had materialized next to her, his expression stern as he stared down at the woman, who could only smile placatingly.

“I didnae mean tae offend Miss MacKenzie,” she said with an apologetic tilt of her head. “I merely meant that?—”

“I believe Miss MacKenzie is owed an apology, Anne,” the laird insisted, much to Fia’s horror. With wide eyes, she turned to him, shaking her head.

“Nay, nay… ‘tis quite alright!” she, said. It was nothing she hadn’t heard before. That woman wasn’t the first to underestimate her nor would she be the last. “Please, it isnae necessary.”

“I insist,” said Laird Stuart.

He wasn’t even looking at Fia. He was staring resolutely at the woman, his gaze cold, and though at first Fia thought the woman would refuse to apologize, it soon occurred to her she had no choice.

The laird had commanded it.

With a saccharine smile, she turned to Fia, bowing her head ever so slightly. “Fergive me, Miss MacKenzie,” Anne said. “I’m sure yer skills are as Laird Stuart says. I didnae mean tae doubt ye.”

“Miss MacKenzie, allow me tae introduce ye tae some important people,” said Laird Stuart, immediately putting an end to the conversation before Fia could even accept the apology. The woman’s cheeks heated, the skin turning a deep red, but Laird Stuart ignored her entirely. “Ye as well, Mr. Graham.”

Leading them away from the group of women, Laird Stuart walked them through the great hall, putting a great distance between them. It was mostly for their benefit, Fia could tell. She doubted that there was anyone she and Bane had to meet so urgently.

As Laird Stuart whisked them away, Fia and Bane exchanged a glance. It was all they needed to know what the other was thinking, and they were both thinking the same thing.

That man truly cares.