Chapter 25
"Are ye certain ye've got every entry point covered?" Killian's voice was low and carried the weight of his authority. He glanced over his shoulder, scowling at Fraser, daring his man of arms to give him bad news.
"Aye, me laird," Fraser replied as he stood taller, ready for anything.
Killian turned his attention back to the mirror.
The flickering candlelight gave him a warm glow over his rugged features.
His fingers skillfully tied the leather straps of his kilt.
And as he adjusted the silver brooch that held his plot in place, Killian's thoughts drifted to the upcoming ceilidh.
A smile pulled at the corner of his lips as his thoughts kept to Leah.
"We have the South passage barred by the old chapel, and I have stationed a few of the lads near the loch. If anyone dares approach the land from any side they will be met with more than just a icy welcome."
Killian nodded as a grim smile stretched across his lips. Fraser's report pulled Killian from his fanciful thoughts. He studied Fraser a moment as his mind raced through other places they could put up security. He knew of the assassination plot, he just didn't know the when.
"I want to be sure that every nook and cranny is covered, leave no stone unguarded, do ye hear me? I will nae have any intruders spoilin' this night," Killian ordered. "And be sure that out uninvited guests who have slipped through the outer net is met with irons."
"Ye have me word," Fraser answered as he rolled his shoulders back. Killian stared at the man before him and pulled in a deep breath. Pride swelled within him. If there was anyone in all the clan Killian could count on, it was Fraser.
"I ken, now see to it," Killian said and gave a nod of his head. In the reflection of the mirror, Killian watched as Fraser bowed swiftly before darting to the door.
Killian stepped away from the mirror, his gaze unwavering as he studied the stranger in the reflection.
He couldn't remember the last time he had dressed up for anything.
If he didn't know any better, Killian could have passed for a well-respected gentleman.
But in the depths of his gaze, he could see the monster within him rattling its cage, inching to be released.
The sad thing was that Killian knew all too well he'd have to let the monster out if he was going to protect Leah and the rest of the clan.
A price had been put on his head, and he was determined to see each attempt fail as long as he had air in his lungs.
It will end tonight. That I promise ye. I'll find ye and put an end to yer sinister plot.
Killian strode through the dimly lit hallway.
The sound of his boots echoed against the hollowed hallways, giving way to the delicate trinket of symbols and flutes.
Soon, sounds of laughter greeted him. As much as he wanted to enjoy the festivities, Killian's mind was far too preoccupied.
His gaze kept drifting to the dark shadows as his eyes played tricks with them.
"Me laird, I was so hopin' to find ye enjoyin' the ceilidh."
Suppressing the irritation brewing within him, Killian turned to face the councilman. Duncan stood before him, his balding head reflecting the torchlight. The sight made it nearly impossible for Killian not to smile.
"If it isnae Duncan McGlein. Fancy seein' ye here.
I thought yer wife was fed up with ye comin' to events like these," Killian asked as he noticed the young woman cowering at her father's side.
The brunette kept her eyes on the ground, refusing to meet Killian's gaze.
It was clear she had no desire to be there, yet Killian knew fully well why she was there.
"Aye, well, she was actually the one to suggest we come tonight. She wanted to see if ye really were a changed man," Duncan said as he struggled to pull his daughter out from behind him. "And of course, I wanted to introduce me daughter, Eliza."
Killian eyed the brunette. She bowed low, keeping her eyes down. And while Killian was curious to see her eyes, in his heart, he knew she didn't hold a candle to Leah.
"It was torture, I'm sure," Killian said, much to Eliza's surprise. Her head whipped up as she stared at him with wide, saucer-like eyes.
"Me laird?" Duncan gasped, the terror in his eyes matching his daughter's. Killian shook his head and stepped back from them.
"I'm sure I'll be seein' ye at a council meetin' soon enough," Killian said to Duncan. He barely gave Eliza a second glance before nodding to her. "Enjoy the ceilidh."
As Killian walked away, he could hear the collective sigh shared between father and daughter.
How a man could pawn his daughter off to someone she didn't even know baffled Killian.
Scanning the Great Hall, he couldn't help but notice that was precisely why everyone was there.
Yet, none of them mattered to him. His heart didn't rest with any of the women in the room.
And he could feel the fear rolling off them as he approached.
He refused to ever marry a woman who was afraid of him. That was one thing he would not do.
Killian walked through the crowd, nodding his acknowledgments as he passed familiar faces.
But none of them mattered; Killian was looking for Leah.
The sooner he could make the announcement, the sooner everyone could leave.
Yet, Leah was nowhere to be found. She wasn't near the roasting pit where most of the women seemed to gather and share recipes.
Killian decided he'd have to try outside.
Pushing through the double doors leading to the terrace and the garden, Killian kept his eyes peeled. The air was thick with apprehension. Even outside, Killian felt the oppression of the situation. It was as if he were waiting to die.
"Laird MacMillan," a husky voice called for him.
Killian turned to find Rodger rushing for him with a lass in tow.
It took Killian every ounce of his strength not to turn them away.
But how were they to know that his heart had been spoken for?
He didn't really know until that very moment when he realized he'd never get through this event unscathed until he made his announcement.
"Rodger, so glad ye could make," Killian said, trying to keep the irritation from his tone. "And who is this enchantin' young lass ye brought with ye?"
"Laird MacMillan, this is Rebecca," Rodger beamed as the blond-haired girl stepped forward. Although she didn't cower like the others, Killian found her rather ordinary.
"It is a pleasure to meet ye both," Killian said as he barely gave the girl a second glance. "I do hope ye enjoy the festivities."
"Perhaps a dance later, me laird?" Rebecca managed to blurt out.
Killian could easily hear the apprehension and fear tainting her words.
She didn't want to dance with him any more than he did.
In the corner of Killian's eye, he caught movement.
It was a flash, but that was all it took to draw his attention to the edge of the boxwood maze.
"If ye'll excuse me," Killian said without allowing Rebecca to answer. His hand flew to his dirk instinctively as he felt Rebecca's eyes bore into him. He didn't care who watched him take down the assassin so long as the threat was finally gone.
As Killian approached, he felt the weight of his responsibility settle on his shoulders like a sack of grain. In a flurry of movement, Killian spotted Fraser tackling another to the ground. Without hesitating, Killian was at Fraser's side in a flash, his dirk poised to strike at any moment.
"Who are ye and why have ye come here?" Killian demanded as Fraser kept the man pinned.
"Go to hell," the man hissed as he spat at Killian.
"Take him to the dungeon," Killian ordered. "Let's see how a few hours in the hole will grease those lips."
"Ye want him in the hole?" Fraser whispered, his voice so low that only Killian could hear.
"Aye," Killian answered without remorse or delay. Fraser nodded and wrestled the man away from the prying eyes of council members and clan folk.
Swallowing hard, Killian tugged on his dress jacket and smoothed the wrinkles from his shirt. He couldn't help but get a sinking feeling in the pit of his being that the man they just caught wasn't the real threat.
That was too easy. Surely an assassin would be more skilled than to attack in the garden?
An uneasiness grew in the pit of Killian's stomach as he turned back to the crowd and ceilidh. Although he wanted to believe that maybe he could enjoy the rest of the events in peace, he knew all too well how fast things could change.
"Laird MacMillan," Alan called. Killian couldn't help but roll his eyes at meeting yet another prospect. Where was Leah when he needed her? This game was growing weary, and Killian was itching to get to the dungeons to interrogate the intruder.
"Alan," Killian greeted as Alan embraced him warmly.
"As ye can imagine," Alan began, pushing the girl next to him closer to Killian. "I've come to introduce ye to me daughter, Abigale."
"I daenae think I've met ye," Killian said as she lifted a hand for him to kiss.
Arching an eyebrow, Killian took her hand and planted a small peck on the tip of her knuckles.
He smiled politely as he dropped her hand and stepped back.
The fact she didn't cower before him shocked him.
Killian wondered just how much Alan had told her about him.
"Nay, ye havenae," Alan said. "We've had her with relatives these past few years. She just came home a month ago. She's been in Edinburgh all this while."
"But I am grateful to be back in the highlands. There's just somethin' about the moors, daenae ye think? It's like they call to ye."
Killian studied her for a moment. She was strikingly beautiful, with her chestnut hair flowing over her shoulders.
Her emerald dress hugged her figure, and the confidence radiating off her was almost overwhelming.
But beyond the cardinal layer of beauty and lust, Killian found no substance underneath it all.
"That so? Ye ken, me maither would say the moors called to her as well," Killian answered.
"Is that so? Well, it would seem we have somethin' in common, would it nae?" she said, batting her eyes seductively. Glancing over at Alan, Killian flashed him a smile. Somewhere in the depths of his being, a warning bell rang, shattering the illusion that was trying to engulf Killian.
"I do hope ye both enjoy yerselves," Killian said as he craned his neck to spy around Alan.
Killian didn't want anyone but Leah. The fact that she hadn't shown up yet was causing him to grow anxious.
He couldn't help but wonder if rejecting Leah last night was a good thing to do.
After all, she was the one he was about to throw into the lion's den.
"Will ye nae ask me for a dance?" Abigale asked as she stepped before him, refusing him leave.
"Ye dance? I figured ye have yer faither's two left feet," Killian said, trying to make light of the situation.
After all, how could they know Leah was the one who haunted his thoughts and tormented his dreams?
It wasn't like he'd ever confess it out loud.
But for now, Leah was his escape from all the unwanted attention.
"Lucky for ye, I've got me maither's grace," she answered a bit too greedily for Killian's liking. He lifted his chin as he realized the woman wouldn't take no for an answer. A wicked grin stretched across his lips as he tilted his head.
"That so? Well then, how can I refuse? But I'll have to take a rain check, there are other pressin' matters I need to attend to first," Killian said as Alan's eyes narrowed with suspicion.
"Of course, a laird's work is never done," she answered as if trained to be the most obedient girl she could be.
Killian turned on his heel and started for the side door.
He had grown tired of the charade. And if one more councilman threw a niece or daughter at him, Killian was going to break.
Only Leah would be able to put an end to the introductions, and the sooner she got there, the better off he'd be.
"Have ye seen Leah?" Killian asked a guard passing by. The guard shook his head.
"I believe she's still in her room," he answered. "I've nae seen her. But maybe others have?"
"Go and fetch her for me," Killian ordered. "Tell her I require her presence."
"And if she refuses to come?"
"See that she is left with nay other option," Killian whispered as he noticed four other council members, each vying for his attention. "Get her here, now."
"As ye wish."