His lips twitched. “Then do ye have something on yer face?”
She almost smiled. “Nay.”
They both nodded to each other and snickered.
Lily’s heart beat faster as her mind betrayed her with a vision. What would it feel like to lean in and kiss him under this sky?
She pulled back sharply. “I should sleep,” she said quickly, stepping away.
“Goodnight then,” he murmured.
She turned, but she felt his gaze follow her as she descended the stairs.
The next morning, as the sun streamed in through her window, Daisy fastened the laces at the back of Lily’s green dress and took a step back.
Her hands tightened on the fabric. “I cannae wear this.”
“Why nae?” Daisy asked.
“Because it is too much. I thought it would look different once I wore it, but it doesnae. It shows too much.”
Daisy tilted her head. “I am sure the Laird would disagree. It brings out yer best features.”
Lily spun to face her. “Ye sound like Brigid.”
The maid only smiled.
Turning back to the mirror, Lily smoothed her hand over the gown. “I daenae think I am ready to show meself to him in this dress. Nae yet.”
“Well, ye must wearsomething. The cèilidh is tonight.”
“Aye,” Lily sighed. “I must wear something, must I nae?”
CHAPTER 27
Alasdair stoodby the entrance of the Great Hall, and a small part of him wondered just how many more of these greetings he could take. Every villager who had walked in had stopped to acknowledge him, and soon, his ears could almost hear nothing but the continuous flurry ofMe Lairds.At some point, it no longer sounded real.
“Thank ye,” he had said over and over, his hand tightening around his goblet.
His patience thinned with each “thank ye,” and a part of him wondered who he would snap at.
Some carried gifts, offerings wrapped in cloth or baskets tied with rope. He thanked them all, motioning for his guards to drop the items at the corner of the hall. The pile grew—jars of mead, cuts of venison, bolts of cloth. Each token was meant to win favor, though Alasdair doubted half the villagers meant it from the heart. Still, tradition was tradition.
When the last of the line slowed, he lifted his goblet and took a long sip. The ale was sharp, grounding him. He looked around the hall for a few more minutes, searching for anything out of the ordinary. When he was satisfied, he turned and made his way to the other entrance, where his man-at-arms stood.
“How’s it going?” Alasdair asked, his voice pitched low.
Nathan shook his head. “More people than we expected. We searched plenty at the gate, but we cannae line them up and prod them like cattle. Nae without raising suspicion. Some slipped through unchecked, me Laird. I am certain of it.”
Alasdair’s jaw clenched. “So long as they remember where they are.”
Nathan gave a tight nod.
Alasdair left him and moved toward Conall, who was leaning against a pillar with his usual calm. His brother-in-law raised an eyebrow at the look on his face.
“All well?” Conall asked.
“Aye. For now,” Alasdair said, though his gut told him otherwise. “I only hope it stays well until this night is over.”
