"It's beautiful," Lileas said honestly, running her fingers along the carved wooden headboard."Far grander than anything I had at my father's keep."
"Ewan wanted ye to have the finest chambers in the keep," Fiona continued, a knowing smile playing at the corners of her mouth.
Before Lileas could respond, a soft knock at the door interrupted them.A woman entered, perhaps sixty years old, with silver-streaked hair neatly braided and kind eyes.She wore a simple but well-made dress, and her hands bore the telltale stains of someone who worked regularly with herbs and healing compounds.
"Morna!"Fiona exclaimed with obvious delight."I was hoping ye'd come to meet Lileas properly."
The older woman stepped forward with a warm smile."Aye, I had to see for myself the lass who finally captured my lad's heart."
"Yer lad?"Lileas asked, confused.
"Morna raised Ewan and Connor after their parents died," Fiona explained gently."She's been more of a mother to them than anyone else.She's also our healer and has a cottage just beyond the main keep."
Morna studied Lileas with eyes that seemed to look straight through to her soul, and her smile grew even brighter."I kenned ye'd be good for my lad.Ye made him work for it, which is a good thing.Ewan has always needed a challenge, and no lass has ever made him chase her down."She paused, noting the slight tightening around Lileas's eyes."Now now, dinnae get jealous.I see it in yer eyes.'Twas the past, lass, his future is you."
Lileas felt heat rise in her cheeks, embarrassed that her momentary flash of jealousy had been so easily read.But Morna's words were spoken with such kindness that she found herself smiling instead."I thank ye for raising such a fine son."
Morna's expression shifted with surprise, and for a moment her composure faltered.A tear shimmered in her eyes as she reached out to take Lileas's hands in her own weathered ones."Thank ye, lass.Ye'll do well.I kenned it the moment he told me ye ran away."She chuckled then, the sound warm and knowing."Takes a strong woman to run from what she fears, and an even stronger one to face it when she's ready."
"Word has spread throughout the keep about yer actions during the Ferguson attack," Morna continued."The clan is asking to meet ye properly, to thank ye for saving our laird and his men."
Lileas felt heat rise in her cheeks."I only did what anyone would have done in such circumstances."
"No, lass," Morna said firmly."What ye did was remarkable.Cameron's men have been telling the story to anyone who'll listen, and Grant and Patrick can barely contain their excitement when they speak of yer fiery sling that turned the tide of battle."
Fiona clapped her hands together with delight."Oh, this is wonderful!I was so worried about how the clan would receive ye, given...well, given the circumstances.But if they've heard about yer courage and quick thinking, all those concerns will be forgotten."
"The circumstances as in my running away from my wedding?"Lileas repeated, feeling a stab of shame at the reminder.
"Pay no mind to that now," Fiona said firmly."What matters is that ye're here, ye've proven yerself, and the clan will accept ye as Ewan's wife and their mistress.The past is behind us."
As if summoned by their conversation, the sound of voices could be heard in the corridor outside.
"That'll be the clansfolk," Morna said with obvious satisfaction."Half the keep wants to meet Lady MacNeil and hear the story firsthand.Let's get ye ready to meet them."
***
THE GREAT HALL OF MACNEILKeep had been transformed for the evening's feast.Tables groaned under the weight of roasted meats, fresh bread, and vegetables from the keep's gardens.Ale and whiskey flowed freely, and the air was filled with the sound of laughter and animated conversation.
Lileas sat at the high table beside Ewan, wearing one of the gowns that Fiona had somehow procured for her.The dress was a deep blue wool, and she had managed to tame her hair into an elegant arrangement that befitted the wife of a laird.
Throughout the evening, a steady stream of clan members approached the high table to pay their respects.
"My lady," said Graham Sinclair, an elderly man who served as the keep's blacksmith, "Patrick has told me of yer sling.I would be honored to help ye create whatever ye might need for yer...weapons."
"Thank ye, Master Sinclair," Lileas replied warmly."I would very much like to discuss some ideas with ye, if ye're willing."
"It would be my pleasure.Any woman clever enough to send the Fergusons running with their tails between their legs is someone I want to stay on the good side of."
Similar conversations continued throughout the evening.The clan members who might have held reservations about their laird's choice of bride now looked at her with obvious respect and admiration.
"They've accepted ye," Ewan said quietly, his voice carrying satisfaction and something that might have been relief."Yer actions today have earned their respect."
"I'm glad," Lileas replied."I want to be worthy of their trust."
"Ye already are," Ewan assured her, his hand finding hers beneath the table."Ye saved my life today, and the lives of good men who serve this clan.They will not forget that."
As the evening progressed and the ale continued to flow, the atmosphere grew more relaxed and celebratory.Someone produced a fiddle, and soon music filled the hall as couples began to dance.Lileas found herself drawn into the festivities, dancing with various clan members who wanted to welcome their new lady properly.
