Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Gordon returned to the keep long after dusk.
The day had been spent in the village settling disputes over grazing land, inspecting the damaged roofs, and hearing complaints from men who seemed determined to bring every trouble in the shire before their laird.
His shoulders ached, and all he wanted was a quiet chamber, a cup of whisky, and an hour without anyone speaking his name.
And maybe a little time watchin’ Ailis laugh.
That seemed to help him relax.
He stepped through the doors of the keep, his mind caught up in the memory of her painting underneath the moonlight. He stopped when the fresh scent of flowers hit his nostrils first. He looked around. The entire keep was different from the last time he saw it, and that was barely hours ago.
Blue ribbons hung from the beams, threaded through garlands of dried heather and small white flowers. Fresh greenery climbed the stone pillars. Tapestries covered the bare walls, softening the gray stone with color. Inside, the great hall also looked different.
Candles burned everywhere, their scent filling the air, and a bright red flame brightened the hall.
Even the long tables had been transformed. Woven runners stretched beneath platters of roast venison, bread, cheese, and steaming bowls of broth. Someone had placed small bunches of flowers beside the cups.
The keep felt…
Alive.
Laughter filled the hall. It brought a softness that had never existed in these walls. Music played near the hearth, and servants weaved through the grounds carrying trays and food around.
Gordon’s gaze moved slowly across the room, and then he saw her. Ailis was dancing with Sorcha. They twirled around together, holding each other’s hands and laughing as they moved. He saw the brilliant smile on Ailis’ face and knew she was happy. He had never seen her so excited before.
Her skirts swept across the rushes as she spun, laughing while her sister tried to keep pace. Her hair had come loose around her face, and her cheeks were bright with happiness.
Gordon’s chest tightened at the sight because he enjoyed it too much.
He could not remember the last time the great hall had looked like this, even though they had hosted feasts recently.
Tonight was different. The air was lighter, as if there was nothing to worry about or fear.
His gaze lingered on Ailis again, and even though she still had not noticed him, he felt his heart soar.
He wanted to cross the room. Wanted to hear her laugh closer and tell her that she had done good work with her decorations. But doing that meant admitting to her and himself that he liked what she had done.
And admittin’ that means showin’ that I like that she is here.
And he needed to remember that even though he was growing accustomed to Ailis’ presence, she still did not belong with him.
And if she ever chooses to leave, I willnae stop her.
He would never take away that part of her that wanted to be free.
Gordon remained by the doorway still, even though every part of him longed to walk forward.
His gaze shifted around the hall, and he noticed instantly that Kerr was absent.
Gordon’s attention sharpened.
Where is he, and what is he up to?
His instincts warned him to find Malcolm first and have his guards search the grounds. But something else caught his eye before he could do that. He noticed the hallway beyond the hall had been decorated as well.
Gordon walked toward it, and his breath left him when he saw the first painting hung on the wall.
His mother’s face stared back at him from the walls as breath left his lungs.
For a moment, he could not move. The paintings stared back at him in soft strokes: the curve of her face, the suggestion of her smile, the eyes he remembered only in fragments. Memories he had locked away for years seemed to stir beneath his ribs.
His throat tightened, and even though he swallowed hard, the ache remained. His memories had been faint when he painted them, but now, the paintings were finished, and they seemed more familiar. The brush strokes looked clearly fresh with paint, so he knew someone had worked on it.
That someone had to be Ailis.
He reached toward one frame but stopped before touching it.
Gordon’s eyes closed briefly, his hand hovering just in front of the painting as he drew in a deep breath. A painfully tender sensation moved through his chest. He could not describe it exactly.
Is it gratitude? Am I grateful that she brought out these paintings? That she did something I have never been able to bring meself to do?
Across the hall, Ailis laughed again.
Gordon looked toward her. She turned at that precise moment, and their eyes met.
Her smile softened as she looked at him, her lips parting as he suspected the flicker in her eyes was one of expectation.
Maybe she wants me to join the celebrations? Dance with her?
For one terrible heartbeat, he nearly crossed the room. He nearly went to her and pulled her into his arms just to hold her close. But eventually, he looked away, lowered his head, and walked toward the stairs, away from the light she carried around her.
He could not fight what she made him feel anymore.
He could only run from it.
That night, Ailis felt truly happy for the first time in years.
The feeling was so unfamiliar that she scarcely knew what to do with it. Her nerves tingled with a lightness that made her laugh heartily, and warmth bloomed beneath her ribs every time she looked around the grand hall and saw everyone’s excitement.
Laughter rolled from one end of the room to the other. Cups were raised. Someone had begun singing, badly enough that three different voices shouted corrections from across the tables.
Sorcha was laughing beside Rowan. Callan was arguing cheerfully with one of the older warriors, and Lileas sat proudly on the bench with Brochan tucked beside her. She, too, looked flushed with excitement.
It was all perfect for Ailis except for the fact that Gordon had refused to join them when he returned.
I wonder what he thinks of how the keep looks now and the paintings on the wall.
When their gaze met briefly earlier, she had hoped he would smile at her or perhaps acknowledge her with a small nod.
Hours passed before the music finally wound down, and rain battered the keep’s outer walls, raging on with an intensity that made her wonder who angered the skies.
Ailis sat in Lileas’ chamber and read to her till she fell asleep, her little fingers curled around the edge of Ailis’ sleeve. Ailis had tucked the blankets beneath her chin, kissed her forehead, and slipped quietly from the room.
Her mind would not settle, so she decided to head to the library in search of more books she could read to Lileas.
A fairytale, perhaps.
Something with enchanted forests and foolish princesses who somehow found their way into the arms of handsome princes.
Instead, she found Gordon. He sat alone in the small library overlooking the courtyard, a glass of whisky resting in one hand.
Firelight touched the hard angles of his face, leaving half of him in shadow.
He looked up when she entered.
Ailis’ pulse skittered, but she mustered up a smile.
“I didnae expect to find the Dragon here,” she said lightly as she moved to him.
He did not smile. “I am nae in the mood for teasin’ tonight.”
Her smile faltered as she stepped farther into the room. “Gordon, are ye hidin’?”
“Aye.” The answer came so simply that something inside her sank. His voice sounded rougher than ever, like the words scraped out of him. “I am hidin’.”
Ailis closed the door behind her and moved closer to him. “From what?”
He looked down at his whisky. “Everythin’.”
She studied him. “Are ye hidin’ from me too?”
He said nothing in response to her question, and the silence was enough. The small ache that had been waiting beneath her happiness returned. She tried to swallow it, but it would not go.
Then Gordon looked at her. “Thank ye.”
Ailis blinked, shocked at his words this time. Her heart soared, but she managed to keep her voice steady as she asked, “For what?”
“For what ye have done here.” His voice had softened. “With the keep and with me men…”
Warmth returned to her chest as she shook her head. “I have done nothin’,” she told him. “It is important that yer people feel at home. Like they arenae just protected but are also cared for.”
Gordon’s thumb moved slowly around the rim of his glass. “Before now, these halls used to be silent.
Finally, he set his glass aside, rose, and began walking to the door.
“Daenae leave,” she blurted, the words almost a plea that made him stop in his tracks.
Slowly, Gordon turned to look at her.
His brow was drawn tight, a deep crease marking the space between his eyes.
His jaw worked once then again, as though he were fighting the words before they reached his tongue.
His eyes held hers, but there was a raw look in them, as if he were torn between wanting to come closer and fearing what would happen if he did.
“If I remain around ye too long,” he said quietly, “I will forget…” He stopped and ran the tip of his tongue over his lips before raking his fingers through his hair and looking away from her with another rough curse muttered under his breath.
Ailis’ heart began to beat harder. “Forget what?” The words were a whispering breath that she dared not take.
Gordon crossed the room to her in quick strides then stopped facing her as she gasped and took an instinctive step back. He was so close that she had to tilt her head back to meet his eyes.
His breath brushed her cheek. “I will forget that this is nae meant to be.”
Her heart stumbled as her eyes held onto his, and she felt his breath near her face, rhyming with hers.
“I will forget that I promised myself I wouldnae touch ye before the binding.”
Ailis’ lips parted, and Gordon’s gaze dropped to them.
“I will forget that I should keep me distance and that I remember yer taste in me mouth like it was only tonight I kissed ye.”
Ailis nearly stopped breathing as she words rasped out of him. Her heart pounded so fast, she feared it would erupt. “Gordon,” she murmured, his name silky on her lips.
Her fingers curled into her skirts, and she could hear not just the rain beyond the windows but also her own heartbeat plummeting harder than any Highland drums she had ever listened to.
Every inch of space between them began to fade as they drew closer to each other. He still looked at her as though he were fighting something within himself.
“Saints preserve me, Ailis.”
Her cheeks warmed as his breath fanned her face now. She should step away from him, but her feet remained rooted to the floor, and her body trembled from the heat that seeped into her just from his nearness.
“I am the Dragon, Ailis, and I spit fire,” he whispered, but the words were husky in her ears and only in her ears. “I will burn ye if ye daenae leave.”
Ailis swallowed. His voice had dropped to that rough, husky register that seemed to vibrate through her rather than simply reach her ears. Each word drew her attention back to him, to the warmth of his body only inches from hers, to the quiet intensity in his eyes.
Her pulse quickened. A strange flutter moved beneath her ribs and settled lower, leaving her suddenly conscious of every breath she took. She wanted to move closer though every sensible thought told her to remain where she was.
His scent surrounded her, familiar now: smoke from the hearth, leather, clean Highland air. She drew a shallow breath, and her heart stumbled.
Why does he make me feel like this?
She could feel warmth gathering beneath her skin. Her fingers curled lightly into her skirts, searching for something to anchor herself while his voice continued in that low, intimate murmur.
She looked at his mouth then quickly back to his eyes.
He noticed, and her breath caught. The wanting inside her frightened her a little, but it did not make her retreat. If anything, it made the space between them feel impossibly small.
She wanted his attention.
And his touch. I want him closer to me till there is nay space between us.
His eyes searched hers like he was giving her a chance… a way out. She knew it. Yet the thought of leaving him standing there, alone with all the things he had finally admitted, made something inside her ache.
“And what if…” Her voice came barely above a whisper. “… I am nae longer afraid of gettin’ burned?”
Gordon went utterly still.
For a heartbeat, they didn’t move then he exhaled deeply again, and his hand came to her waist. The touch was firm, yet somehow careful.
Ailis’ breath caught when he leaned in some more, his forehead nearly touching hers.
“Ye should be scared of me, mo chridhe.” The endearment slipped past his lips and made her heart flutter even faster.
“Perhaps,” she managed. Her fingers caught lightly in the front of his shirt. “But I am nay.”
His restraint broke right then as his eyes darkened with his next raspy breath. With a low groan, Gordon drew her against him and kissed her.
Ailis gasped softly against his mouth before every thought scattered.
The kiss was nothing like the uncertain moments they had shared before. There was no hesitation now. Only all the longing they had spent days denying as his arms tightened around her.
Her hands curled into his shirt, and the world beyond the library vanished. There was only the warmth of him, the rain against the windows, and the wild pounding of her heart.
And for the first time, Ailis did not wonder whether she should run.
She simply held on.