Free Highland Fire (Guardians of the Stone) by Tanya Anne Crosby Page B

treated her, following his lead. Until he knew more, he could not condemn her to his people’s discrimination, but neither could he signal them to be off their guard. In spite of the fact that Una’s prophetic words had moved many to accept her with a wary eye, not all were so convinced the daughter of their enemy could, in truth, be the salvation of their clan. But that was exactly as it should be. He studied her in silence, aware that all eyes were upon them.
    Despite her lovely features, her face was drawn with fatigue. At the moment, she was staring across the fire. Aidan followed her gaze.
    It had completely escaped his notice earlier that the man who had seized her by the arm was also wearing MacLaren colors. Her husband’s brother—information he had gleaned from Una. Those two—the laird of Keppenach and Aveline—were colluding... but the question remained: Was his lovely bride a part of their scheme?
    Time alone would tell.
    “It seems to me that ye would draw more strength in numbers,” Aidan remarked, curious as to why she stood alone when her brother by law and his company were present.
    Lìleas straightened, wrapping her plaid more tightly about her shoulders, and eyed him meaningfully. “I draw my greatest strength from solitude.”
    Damn. But she would fit right in with his saucy sisters, he thought. Never in all his life had he been dismissed so thoroughly. Though, in truth, he wasn’t entirely certain that’s what she had done, it certainly felt like it. Had she been any other woman at any other given time, he would have obliged her at once. However, duty kept him rooted to the spot.
    The tension in the air crackled like the pinewood at the center of the flames. Across the fire, the pair in question turned to look at them, and discomfited by Aidan’s scrutiny, once again averted their gazes as though his attention made them uncomfortable.
    “Who is the woman?” Aidan asked.
    As nothing else had, the question seemed to deflate her. She sighed and peered down at her feet. “My lady’s maid. She is to tend me.”
    Aidan lifted a brow. “Seems to me she has her duties confused.”
    A tiny burst of surprised laughter escaped her lips, and she turned to look at him then.
    In that instant, there was no guile in her expression at all. Despite the tension in their discourse, she smiled softly and lifted her chin. “I am quite certain her duties are clear to her, my lord.”
    “Aidan,” he insisted. “Though if ye canna bring yourself to speak my name, at least use the Scots word. I can stomach it far better.”
    “Laird,” she replied, and in that moment, she appeared for all the world a martyred bride.
    Because she is, he reminded himself.
    And still, unlike most men even, she held his gaze, her violet eyes haunted and beautiful. Not for the first time, they spoke to him in a way that made him feel wholly uncomfortable. Though, damn it, if he considered her plight, it would pull at his heartstrings and he could simply not allow that to happen.
    Arms crossed, his gaze was drawn again across the fire toward her companions. The reed played on, children laughed, and every knowing eye remained fixed upon them.
    Mayhap his heart was not so steeled against her as he’d thought and he felt a new peril rising, one that had little to do with the distant ring of battle swords.
    It was not too late to send her home, he told himself.
    It was the Highland custom to enact a trial marriage. A woman, or a man, could renounce a spouse at any time, but for the first year it was understood the marriage was provisional... to be certain, especially in the case of a chieftain, that his wife could bear him a son. But he was not obligated to hand fast with this maiden. He could send her home before they spoke the words, and right now, that was his inclination... except...
    His gaze scanned the gathering, searching for Una.
    As elusive as the old woman could be at times, she was always around when he needed her.