Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
The next few days passed in a delicate kind of peace, much to Ailsa’s surprise.
She had expected, after what she and her new husband had shared, for something to change between them. In fact, she had been fearful that he might look upon her differently now that he had conquered her at last, had claimed her as his bride once and for all.
But, instead, he had been gentle with her, careful even, slipping out of bed softly so as not to disturb her when he woke in the morning; dropping a kiss on her temple before he would make his way down to training with his men.
She would steal glances at him as he dressed, taking in the shape of his body, the firmness of his muscles as he moved around the room, and bite back a little smile when she remembered that this man, for all intents and purposes, belonged to her and her alone.
The maids seemed to have noticed a change in her, too.
Martha had been spending more time with her, perhaps sensing that her mood was a little brighter than it had been before.
Though she did not come out and ask directly why Ailsa had all of a sudden been spending more time in her husband’s chambers, she must have known the reason.
No doubt it was a matter of gossip all across the Keep, not that Ailsa took much of an issue with the idea. No, it suited her down to the ground that they might see her as more of a mainstay here now that she and her husband had finally given themselves to one another.
It was, in fact, on a morning excursion with Martha to the gardens that she was interrupted.
The two of them had made their way to the gardens, where the cooks were growing a few herbs meant for drying over the winter.
Ailsa might not have known much about the application of such things, but she was a decent gardener and intended to offer her guidance on the matter.
“Ye’ll have to speak to Iona about it,” Martha had remarked to her, running a hand through her hair. “She likes to have things done just so, I’m no’ sure she’ll take so kindly to the idea of changing anything.”
“I’m the Lady of the Keep,” Ailsa laughed in return. “Surely, she’ll lend me her ear, at least for a while?”
“I dinnae think that she believes she owes that kind of attention to anyone,” she replied, shaking her head. “She’s a stubborn old thing, Iona…”
But before they could discuss the matter any further, there was a sudden flurry of excitement and activity in the courtyard before them.
Ailsa’s head snapped up, eyes darting this way and that as she tried to make sense of what was going on.
A handful of guards had rushed to the entrance, pulling back the portcullis to make room for whoever was arriving.
Ailsa cast a look towards Martha, silently asking if she knew of anyone who was meant to arrive that day, but Martha seemed just as nonplussed as she did on the matter.
A thundering of hooves announced the arrival of their new guest.
The moment that the rider appeared through the large stone arch, Ailsa’s heart sank slightly.
This woman, it was clear, was used to commanding attention; she was dressed in a deep red robe that flew out around her shoulders, the hood pulling back just far enough that strands of her fiery red locks were visible beneath.
She pulled on the reins, managing the horse with confidence, and drew it to a halt just outside the stone steps that led up to the Keep.
Ailsa followed the sight of her and was surprised to see Tavish emerging from within to greet her. He hadn’t mentioned anything to her about a visitor, but the way everyone was reacting to this woman, she was an esteemed guest.
She drew her horse to a halt and hopped down from the saddle, just as Ailsa lifted her skirts and hurried over to make sure she was present for her arrival, too.
The woman hardly seemed to notice Ailsa, though, as she strode towards the doorway; Tavish greeted her with a nod, extending his hand, his face unreadable.
“Tavish,” Ailsa called to him, doing her best to keep her voice light. “Ye didnae mention that we were due to have guests today, I would made proper preparations.”
The woman turned to her, her gaze traveling pointedly up and down Ailsa like she was sizing her up.
“No need to prepare anything for me,” the woman assured her, her sharp green eyes piercing like a blade. “I just came to check in on an old friend.”
She cast her gaze back to Tavish, and the way it lingered on him made the hairs on the back of Ailsa’s neck stand up. There was something far too familiar about it for her liking, it seemed that woman knew more of her husband than she should.
“And to pay my respects, of course,” she went on.
Ailsa glanced at Tavish, raising her eyebrows slightly, insisting that he introduce her to this sudden new arrival in their home.
“Ailsa,” Tavish remarked finally, reaching his arm out for her. Ailsa was quick to go to his side, glad for the excuse to feel nearer to him once more.
“This is Riona McKellar.”
“And ye dinnae have to introduce yerself to me,” she replied, lifting her chin, her gaze like a drawn blade resting against Ailsa’s throat. “Ye must be the new Lady MacDonald. A pleasure to meet ye.”
“Likewise,” Ailsa replied, even though she wasn’t entirely certain that she believed it.
Riona seemed able to sense her discomfort but did not take it as the sign she should have to hold off.
“A pleasure to meet ye, I’m sure,” she remarked. “Ye’re as lovely as I heard about, my dear. I just hope that ye can match yer beauty with resilience.”
Ailsa parted her lips, intending to interrogate her further on just what she meant by such a thing, but before she could, Riona clapped her hands together.
“I could use a meal,” she remarked. “Ye wouldnae leave a guest with nothing to eat, would ye, Tavish?”
She brushed past Tavish and into the Keep, not waiting for an invitation, seemingly she had no need of one.
Ailsa studied Tavish’ face, trying to make sense of what he thought of all of this, but he seemed to be doing his best to keep it pointedly empty of any reaction.
Who was this woman?
Why did she walk around this place like she owned it? And what, exactly, was her relationship with Tavish?
Whatever the answers to those questions, the kitchen was quick to respond to the arrival of a guest, and soon, a small feast had been arranged and brought out to the small dining room off the main hall.
Only Tavish, Riona, and Ailsa were in attendance, though Ailsa got the distinct impression that Riona would have preferred if she wasn’t there at all.
“I cannae believe that ye’re finally married, Tavish,” Riona remarked, shaking her head as she planted down her cup of ale on the table with a thump.
She had been drinking steadily since it had first been brought out, and her cheeks were slightly flushed, her words bold—or, at least, bolder than even they had been before.
“We met again at the MacFadden feast,” Ailsa shot back, reaching across the table to take Tavish’ hand.
It was strange to feel so possessive of him when she had been so determined to put as much space between herself and this man as possible for so long. But now that they had finally closed the distance between themselves, she refused to let this woman come in and throw that all off.
He was her husband, after all. He had chosen her. And no matter how fondly Riona seemed to speak to him, it didn’t change a thing.
“At a feast?” she laughed. “Dinnae tell me that ye were dancing, Tavish. I’ve seen how ye dance.”
She shook her hand, and Tavish reached for his ale, not looking at her.
“Dinnae exaggerate, Riona.”
“Tavish never liked dancing,” Riona explained to Ailsa, like she was sharing some deep knowledge that Ailsa would never have been privy to if it weren’t for her. “But in other things, he was certainly a little more open to… leading.”
She let the words hang in the air and then burst out laughing as though she had made the most hysterical joke in the world, grasping his arm with amusement like she was trying to coax a reaction out of him, too.
Ailsa felt a cold shock of discomfort rush through her. What was this woman talking about? Had she and Tavish been together before they had met?
Her eyes darted between them as she fiddled with her spoon, trying not to let her insecurity show too clearly on her face.
She managed to make it through the rest of the meal without letting Riona get under her skin.
At least, she hoped that’s the image she had managed to project, because she couldn’t stand the thought of this girl knowing that she had so upset her.
That was clearly what she wanted, even if Ailsa could not very well make sense of what she would have gotten out of such a thing.
Why would she arrive at the Keep and come swinging in here like she had the run of the place?
It didn’t make any sense to her, and she could not help but feel she had been caught out. She should never have gotten so comfortable, she should never have let that peace get the better of her…
By the time that the dinner plates were cleared away, Tavish excused himself, insisting that he had matters to take care of in his study. Riona gave him a hug before he left, squeezing him a little more closely than she should have in front of his wife.
“It’s good to see ye again, Tavish,” she murmured to him.
He nodded curtly, glancing at Ailsa, and bidding her farewell before he left the room.
And, all at once, the two women were alone together. Ailsa sugared her smile as she turned to Riona, determined not to give her the satisfaction of knowing how much she had bothered her.
“It’s lovely to have a friend of Tavish’s here,” she told her. “How long do ye think ye’ll be stay, Riona?”
But Riona simply looked back at her for a moment, clearly able to see beneath the facade she was attempting to throw up before her. She took a step towards Ailsa, her long red hair falling into her face, her eyes dark even in the glimmering light from the candles.
“I just want what’s best for him, Ailsa,” she remarked.
“As we both do,” Ailsa replied curtly.
Riona smirked slightly, shaking her head.
“Ye might think ye ken the man beneath the armor,” she murmured, drawing in closer, her voice suddenly dripping with venom. She had been so sweet when Tavish had been there in the room with them, but now he was gone, she clearly saw no need to play pretend at her own kindness any longer.
“But he needs someone who knows his darkness, knows how to hold it,” she continued. “Not someone who’ll be crushed beneath it the moment that he reveals it to her.”
A flood of fear coursed through Ailsa at the sound of those words. She knew that she should not let this woman bother her in such a way, that she was just saying anything she thought she needed to to throw her off-center, but it was working.
Riona grinned at her, letting the words hang there for a moment, before she turned and made her way along the corridor to the chambers that had been arranged for the length of her stay here.
And, as Ailsa watched her go, she could not fight the certainty that her presence here was going to make whatever truce she and her husband had come to that much more difficult.