Chapter 4 #2
Her smile at his loving words broke through her nerves.
“Aye, a token of that love, then.”
She twisted to face him, holding her hand out. The Lukenbooth sat in her palm, filling it.
With a long finger, William plucked the brooch from her grasp and studied it.
In a sudden move, he clasped his hand to the back of her head and pressed her forward to kiss her brow.
His full lips were warm. “I shall treasure it all my life, and wear it every day as a reminder of ye.
The garnet, ‘tis your hair set aflame, and whenever I look at it, I shall see only ye.”
Ailith leaned into his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist.
“Ye have such a way with words, William. It tears at my heart.”
His arm snaked around her backside to hug her close. “Only when I speak to ye.”
That night, clansmen and women from across the Highlands arrived in droves. Caitir had an evening meal ready for those who had arrived. Not a full feast, but more than enough food for all the guests.
MacDougal men had brought in extra tables and benches and set up more tables outside in case more people showed up later in the day or evening.
Caitir, Muire, Sine, and the MacDougal men and women labored to make sure every guest had what they might need for the next several days.
If the Keiths had arrived, William didn’t notice – his focus was on Ailith.
Ailith entered the main hall on William’s arm, her skin warm at the prospect of being at the center of attention. She had tried too hard the last month not to gain any unwanted attention, and here she was, smack in the middle.
To make matters worse, Muire and Sine convinced her to wear her dramatic blue kirtle again, which Ailith felt attracted even more notice. She had expected to deal with this on the morrow, but here she was, the night before, trying to keep calm and keep her mind focused.
The hall was the epitome of a medieval grand hall — the hearth had been scrubbed down, the stones cleared of soot and ash, and the tapestries and banners had been beaten until every last flake of dust and dirt was gone.
The rushes had been swept and the tables wiped to a high shine, with ornately woven table runners draped across them.
Fruits and vegetables overflowed bowls and platters surrounded by chalices, carved horn cups, and tankards.
Ornate copper and iron candlesticks decorated the tables, topped with creamy white tallow candles that illuminated the faces of those at the tables.
All the candles in the red deer antler chandeliers had been lit, and the hall was bathed in an incandescent glow.
For Ailith, it was like one of her father’s eastern Highland tours brought to life. Jack would have loved to see living history like this…
Her father. Jack Gordon was still in the 21st century, probably missing his daughter dreadfully, searching for her. Ailith’s chest hollowed at the thought of him. He should be here, celebrating this with her.
I should write all this down, she thought. If she kept a journal, maybe he would find it one day and read it. He wouldn't know it was her, but it was a potential way to reach out to him when she had no other options.
A high, clear sound of a piper brought her attention back to 900 CE as William led her close to the main table, and up to it.
“What? William, nay –” Were they sitting at the main table? Up where everyone might see her?
He grinned, his handsome face shining golden in the candlelight and his blue eyes reflecting the blue of her kirtle and sparkling like the sea.
“Aye, we are the guests of honor. We sit between Cormag and my father, and your brother.”
The sculpted high-back chairs were set away from the table, awaiting them.
Her brother Seocan sat to the right, next to her, his round face and puffed-up chest full of pride.
Bernard, William’s father, sat opposite, next to William’s chair, and his eyes, a softer blue than William’s, gazed at his son with all the love a father can have for his lad.
Even Mairi appeared pleased. She must have left baby Morgan with Elsbet, as her hands were free and she looked stunning in a red-brown kirtle with gold trim that matched the golden circlet on her head.
Ailith gave her and her brother a quick bob of a curtsey, then sat in her chair.
William folded his long legs under the table and seated himself, then immediately took her hand.
A sense of calm managed to push through her nerves. Something about his touch grounded her. He was the solid foundation she needed in this world where it seemed the fundament shifted under her feet daily.
Once she and William had taken their seats, Bernard rose and raised his copper chalice to his head. “Welcome all ye guests! Tomorrow, we celebrate the union of clan Gordon with clan MacDougal. Thank ye for coming to witness this event. Good health and life to all of ye! Slainte!”
Tables shook with pounding fists and shouts of Slainte as everyone drank to Bernard’s toast. Short and simple, since this was just a supper, and not the main event, Ailith presumed.
A chalice in front of her contained heathered mead, thin and flavorful, if not sweet.
Not that she minded. Ailith doubted she’d be eating much this night anyway.
“Eat what ye can, mo ruaidh,” William told her in a low voice, his face close to hers. “Too soon, guests will start to visit our table and congratulate ye, and ye won’t get a bit in after.”
William was correct. She had just finished a bannock topped with pork and apple compote when the first guests arrived. Mostly, she had to nod and thank them for coming, but some of them stayed and chatted.
One man with wild brown hair and a well-fitting tunic approached with a plain-looking young woman whose léine and kirtle matched her hair. Her skin, however, was stunningly pale, like moonlight, and truly beautiful.
How did someone manage to keep their skin that milky white? Surely, she was in the sunlight sometimes?
“Eoghan! Come! I want ye to meet my bride!” William shouted as he stood up from his seat. Ailith rose as well. If William was on his feet, this must be someone important.
The man leaned into the table so he and William could clasp forearms.
“Ailith, ‘tis my old friend and Grant kin, Eoghan. He’s been like a brother to me since he toddled when he walked!”
“Och, but I was on a horse before ye, my long friend. Ye were far too top-heavy and could barely stay in the saddle.” The man shifted his gaze to her. “Good eve to ye, Ailith.”
Ailith grinned at their brotherly affection.
With so many siblings, he needed another?
Ailith was excited to meet this man who had been so close to William for so long, and she was surprised he was a Grant.
Their clans were close, aye, but with all the trauma the Grants had been through, having Eoghan attend meant that much more.
Ailith leaned over the table as Eoghan took her hand and kissed it.
“Ye are more beautiful than I recall,” he told her with a wicked grin. “But then, when I last saw ye, ye were an awkward lass with gangly arms following your brother around like a red-haired shadow.”
Ailith kept her smile on Eoghan, but slid her eyes to the woman next to him. Her face was not as open and engaging as Eoghan’s. His wife or sister or whoever this was definitely did not seem to care for Ailith.
As if on cue, Eoghan turned to the woman. “And my sister Betris. Do ye recall each other?”
Before Ailith could say anything, Betris spoke, thankfully saving her from answering.
“I recall ye, Ailith. Your red hair is unmistakable. I heard ye charmed William with it.”
Ailith didn’t know what to say to that, and she didn’t miss how the woman’s eyes gave her a once-over – the type of look Ailith had seen on other women before when they met someone who made them jealous. The green-eyed monster was peeking out behind Betris’s brown gaze.
Ailith patted said red hair that she had plaited and twisted up for the night with the help of Muire, who had also lent her several silver hairpins engraved with tiny flowers. It helped keep the mane of hair under some control, even as wisps and loose tendrils fell around her cheeks and shoulders.
“Och, well, no’ all of us can have tamed hair,” Ailith said, hoping it came off as kind and not catty. “And my brothers are cursed with it, too.”
Ailith gestured to Seocan, who leaned forward and ran his hands through his own mess of red waves that curled around his ears and forehead and down his jaw. “Aye. ‘Tis quite the Gordon curse. Even my bairn has it!”
Everyone at the table laughed at Seocan’s comment, alleviating some of the underlying tension that seemed to be cutting through the joy of the night.
Everyone but Betris, who merely gave a tight smile.
Then her brown eyes moved past Seocan to Mairi, who was smiling at her husband’s jest.
“Mairi! Och, I have no’ seen ye in years!”
Mairi’s eyes lit up as she reached across the table to hug her friend.
Oh, great, Ailith thought.
She tried to ignore Betris’s gushing welcome to Mairi and listen to Eoghan and William swap childhood stories, but the fact that her sister-in-law, who didn’t seem overly fond of her, was friendly with this Betris, who didn’t seem overly fond of her, didn’t bode well.
Don’t read into it! Ailith told herself. Naught will happen at your wedding celebration.
Eoghan and William clasped forearms again.
“Dinna go too far. I want to speak more with ye later this night,” William told him.
Eoghan pointed to a table near the pipers. “Find me there. But no’ too late. Ye have a wedding to get to in the morn.”
William turned and winked at Ailith. “Och, dinna fret. The devil himself could no’ keep me from that!”
***
Mairi sighed in her seat.