Vexing the Highlander

by Terry Spear

  So she strode to the well, her gaze on the Highlander the whole time, hoping to catch his eye. Maybe he would again offer to carry water up to her chamber for her. She decided she would say yes this time, and thank him, and apologize to him also.

  But the Highlander headed off for the gates, never seeing her. Aila sighed, hoping she could catch his attention later, though with this many people here, she was afraid she would not. Still, if she could, it would be after she had washed up and was wearing a pretty kirtle. A clean kirtle. Not one for wearing while riding on the muddy roads. With horror, she realized what a sight she must be. Did the lord even know she was a lady? Or did he believe she was a servant?

  She groaned, quickly filled her pitcher, and hurried back to the chamber.

  Later that afternoon, Alban and his brother went to the feast and found seats at one of the tables furthest from the head table. Alban was glad for that. Though he was still aware that anything he said, no matter where he was, could be misconstrued and shared with the king.

  He kept watching the servants coming and going as they brought dishes to the table, though he was sure the redheaded lass wasn’t a kitchen servant.

  “Are you looking for anyone in particular?” Ward sounded amused, like he thought Alban had become interested in a servant.

  Which Alban had, but he wasn’t about to discuss it.

  “Here you are more interested with the wait staff, when a lady truly seems to be intrigued with you.” Ward raised his brows as if to ask how in the world Alban had managed to captivate the attention of a lady at the king’s court when Alban had done no such thing.

  At least that he was aware of. Maybe it was the lassie who had waved at them from the loch. He looked around, but didn’t see any woman openly watching him. “Which one? There are many, but no one who seems particularly aware I exist.”

  “The lady over there. She is concentrating on her meal now, blushing to the heavens and back. The one with the pretty red hair.”

  Alban turned quickly to see the woman, instantly wondering if it was the lass he’d run into, who had been carrying the pitcher of water that had drenched them both. It was she, only now she was wearing a dark blue gown, her hair half hidden beneath veils of silk. “A lady. Are you sure?” Yet the fact she was seated at one of the tables, not waiting on others, and was dressed so fine, ensured him his brother had to be correct. Alban was at once sorely disappointed, wanting nothing more than to see the woman again, but not if her family was titled. He couldn’t. He wasn’t worthy of her hand in marriage—not based on his position in society, anyway.

  He let out his breath and said, “Figures.”

  But worse, she lifted her gaze and saw him watching her and gave him a bewitching smile, to which Ward said, “Well, well. What have you been up to, little brother?”

  And here Alban thought he’d been above reproach the few hours he’d been here so far.

  2

  Wynda studied the man Aila was ogling, way too blatantly. Of course when the one sitting next to him had caught Aila’s eye while she was trying to catch the other gentleman’s attention, she had looked away. But then she saw him talking to the other man and she had been thrilled, and embarrassed to think he might be telling him of her interest in him.

  “Is…that the man you had the unfortunate accident with?” Wynda asked, as she finished her fish stew.

  “Aye, the shorter one, though he is very tall.”

  “They must be close friends or related. You have garnered both men’s attention now.” Wynda tore off a piece of bread.

  Aila sipped from her mead and set the tankard down on the table. “He is pleasing to the eye, is he no’?”

  “Aye. But is he married?”

  That, Aila still didn’t know.

  Wynda lifted her tankard. “I will ask the king’s steward then—“

  “Heavens, no. That would show I have interest in him and mayhap he is an incorrigible rake…or worse,” Aila said.

  “If you are interested in him, what is the harm in learning more about him?”

  Aila nodded. “All right. But dinna say I am interested in him.”

  Wynda smiled. “What if the steward were to think I was the one who was intrigued with the gentleman?”

  “Just say a distant cousin was inquiring.”

  “Who isna here.”

  Aila finished her stew. “Aye.”

  “Dinna get your hopes up.”

  Aila’s sister had told her time and again that the king would decide this for them when their parents had died and that meant he would want the best alliances out of the proposal. He was not one to consider the lady’s fancy.

  “He is braw,” Wynda said, smiling at him. “I would not toss him from my bed.”

  Aila laughed. She had never heard her sister speak in such a way about a man. Her husband had been much older than her, gray whiskers and a thinning hairline. Aila had never asked the details of their bed play, nor had Wynda ever breathed a word of it, but in the two years they’d been married, Wynda had never been with child. Had she wanted to toss him from her bed?

  The meal concluded and everyone waited for the king and his lovely queen, Margaret, and the rest of those seated at the head table to leave before they left the great hall. “Do you wish to hang back and speak with the gentleman?”

  “Aye.” But when she looked back to see if he might head in her direction, she realized he and the other gentleman had already left. “They are gone.”

  “Truly?” Wynda looked for them too, but she didn’t see either of them. “Well, that is odd. Maybe he is afraid you will spill something else on him.” She smiled and Aila knew her sister was not serious, and was, in fact, trying to make light of the men’s disappearance so she wouldn’t feel bad.

  But she just sighed, thinking that he was probably married, or otherwise ineligible. Perhaps he was promised to another, and his being nice to her in the hall was just because he was a kindly lord.

  “Come, we must get ready to dance at the festivities once they clear the trestle tables out of the great hall. Mayhap you will see him then and he will ask you to dance.”

  “Aye, then dinna inquire about him. He may no’ be interested in me except as a curiosity.”

  Wynda touched her hair. “You have beautiful hair.”

  “So you say.” But no one had ever wished Aila’s hand in marriage. Even her da had to protect her from mean-hearted men, one who had attacked her for having red hair, saying she was wanton. Her father had beaten him within an inch of his life, even though he’d never been a violent man, save when he had to fight in battles to protect his family and his people.

  So she worried that the king would force a man to marry her for her properties, and he would despise her for her red hair. What if she bore him redheaded children? Even worse.

  Later that evening, everyone was in high spirits as men and women danced in the great hall, while the servants who were not needed were dancing with each other in the inner baily.

  Alban folded his arms as he watched the ladies and lords dance.

  “You know you can ask her to dance anyway. The king requested our presence, and though you are no’ eligible to marry the lass, you are no’ a servant,” Ward reminded him. He let out his breath on a heavy sigh. “Lady Aila has not once been asked to dance. Be a Highlander, show her a good time. Her sister is very popular. It must vex the younger one that no one seems to be interested in her.”

  “All right. I will. But it doesna mean she will wish to even speak to me once she learns I am no’ a lord.”

  “You will never know unless you approach her.”

  “Aye.” Alban had been dying to ask her to dance with him the whole time. He couldn’t take his eyes off her as she talked away to a couple of eligible maids and her sister when she wasn’t dancing.

  She didn’t seem upset that she was still standing there, though he’d seen her catch his eye once, and she had quickly looked away. Had she already known he was not tit
led?

  Though he was popular with the ladies of his brother’s court, he’d been turned down a time or two, so he was expecting the same here.

  When he approached, the ladies were all eyeing him, wondering who he was, but all he cared about was Lady Aila. He was gracious enough to acknowledge the other women, then bowed to Lady Aila. “Could I have the honor of dancing with you?”

  Her eyes widened a bit and he was surprised she seemed shocked that he would ask. Probably because he had no rank at all.

  She curtseyed. “Aye.” And with the ladies, who were standing around her, all deathly quiet, he took Lady Aila out to dance.

  “I’m no’ here to wed any lass,” he said quickly.

  She smiled up at him. “I wish the same as you, but alas, I dinna believe the king feels the way I do. I thought I might see you after the meal. But you must have left before I had a chance to at least apologize for spilling the water on you.”

  “I didna know you were a lady.”

  She paused and stared at him. “You are no’ titled?”

  “Nay. ‘Tis my brother Ronan who is. But his wife is having a bairn and he is yet at home with her. My brother Ward and I are here in his stead. We are with the Clan Daziel. I have never cared anything about titles, happy to be my brother’s third in command. I must admit when I learned you were a lady, I wished I was a duke and could court you like any titled lord might.”

  Her eyes filled with tears and she quickly looked at the floor.

  He couldn’t believe he’d brought her to tears. “I am sorry, my lady. Allow me to return you to your friends.”

  “Nay, unless you dinna wish to dance with me.”

  “You are the only one I wished to. And you need no’ apologize about earlier. I was the one who was completely at fault.”

  She smiled. “No’ even my da would admit he was ever at fault with my mother, even when we all knew it.”

  “I have no trouble admitting I am in the wrong, when I am.”

  When they finished the dance, he did not leave Aila with her friends, but rather continued to stand by her, not liking that no other man offered to dance with her. He knew if he asked her again, it would show his interest even when he should not. But blast it all, no one was dancing with the lady anyway, so why should she have to stand on the side like this?

  “If you dinna think it too presumptuous, would you care to dance with me again?”

  She smiled so brightly at him, he was glad to have cheered her. “No one has asked me before.”

  “They are all buffoons.”

  Lord Comyn, a blond-haired, blue-eyed earl, frowned deeply at him, and Alban realized he had done what he was trying so hard not to do, cause trouble for their clan. Yet he wished he could take the lass home with him and prove to her just what he thought of her, how much he genuinely liked her—the way she was sweet and innocent, yet daring enough to dance with him again. And time and again, he’d seen the way she’d looked at him across the tables at the meal, showing interest in meeting him. If it hadn’t been for his not having a title.

  He’d seen his brother watching him. Now with his arms folded, he looked stern, not angry with him, not concerned exactly, just…watchful. Was he afraid of what kind of trouble Alban might cause them? Possibly. Alban had seen Lady Wynda, Aila’s sister, also watching them when she wasn’t dancing. Or sometimes even when she was. Was she concerned for her sister’s welfare, hoping he wouldn’t hurt Aila’s chances with a titled lord?

  He knew better. The king would decide and neither the lord, if he wished to remain titled, or the lady, would have a say in it. He knew it wasn’t any of his concern. That he would return to helping run the clan’s lands and fight their battles and leave the king to fight his own, which included making his own alliances, through any means he desired.

  After the third dance with the lady, he heard the whisperings. He’d really upset protocol. He saw then the king’s steward talking to Lord Dunlap, who bowed, and headed with the steward to join Alban and the lady. He hated that the steward had forced someone to dance with the lady, just so Alban would no longer take a turn with her. When the earl should have been eager to do so without any coaxing.

  “If I wouldna create more of a scene than I already have, I would retire to my chamber, satisfied that I had enjoyed the festivities, thanks to you,” Lady Aila said.

  Alban bowed his head slightly to her. “My lady, the pleasure was all mine.” And he meant every word of it. When he returned from his trip here, all he would be able to think of was the beautiful redheaded lass who had stolen his attention. Every redheaded lass would now catch his eye, and disappoint him that she was not Lady Aila.

  When she went to dance with the Earl of Dunlap, the king’s steward said, “She understands she canna marry you, aye?”

  “Aye. No one would ask the lady to dance, and so I did. I hope there is nothing wrong in that.”

  Lord Gustafson shook his head. “As long as the king doesna disapprove.”

  “You spoke with him?”

  “Aye. He said as long as you encourage titled lords to dance with her, he sees naught that is wrong with it.” The king’s steward turned his attention from Lady Aila to Alban. “But I will warn you that if you take this too far…” He shrugged. “I shouldna have to tell you what the king does when he isna pleased with one of his subjects.”

  As soon as the king’s steward left, Ward joined Alban and he figured he might get a lecture. “Ronan will have words with me when he hears what I have done.” Though Alban wouldn’t have done anything differently.

  “Nonsense. Ronan would think these lords too blind to see what a beautiful lady she is. What did Gustafson say to you?”

  “Just to leave well enough alone insofar as having anything further to do with the lady. But as far as the dancing went, the king didna disapprove.”

  “Good. If you have had your fill of the men and women here, let us enjoy the festivities with our own men outside for a while.”

  “Aye.” But Alban had to make a monumental effort to tear his gaze away from Aila as yet another lord was encouraged to dance with her. “Did you dance with anyone?” He realized he hadn’t seen his older brother do anything but watch out for Alban’s welfare.

  “I will. Outside. Less trouble that way. I wouldna have been brave enough to ask a lady to dance. Only you would be so bold.”

  “I dinna believe I was so bold, but when no one asked her…”

  “And you had already shown an interest in her.”

  Feeling morose about the prospect that Aila would end up marrying some despicable lord she didn’t care anything about who didn’t care for her either, Alban walked outside with Ward to join in the revelry in the bailey. Though his brother danced with several lasses, Alban had already danced with the only lady he wished to. Still, one of the maids grabbed his hand and pulled him to join the other dancing couples. He was half-enjoying himself, despite his concern for Aila, when he saw her standing near the doors to the keep with her sister watching him.

  He lost his place in the country dance and Aila laughed. She didn’t appear upset with him for dancing with others, and he appreciated it. He knew he shouldn’t ask, but he joined Lady Aila and her sister and invited them to dance with them.

  “If we were not at the king’s court, we would gladly do so,” Lady Wynda said.

  Aila smiled. “Aye, we would.”

  “We are retiring to our chamber, but Aila wished to speak with you before we left.” Lady Wynda waited with her sister, serving as her chaperone.

  He wondered if Aila had found a gentleman that would suit among those she danced with. He both wished Aila would for his own peace of mind, and hers, yet he did not care for the notion if she wasn’t matched with someone who would treat her well.

  “I just wanted to thank you for the loveliest time I have ever had,” Aila said. “Thank you.” Then she curtseyed and the two of them left.

  He wanted to walk them up to their chamber, but then he
saw Gustafson greet the women and escort them back inside the keep. Alban hoped the king’s steward wouldn’t lecture the women.

  “I suppose we couldn’t just steal her away from here,” Ward said, joining Alban.

  He appreciated his brother’s comment, but was surprised he sounded half-serious. “The king would want my head and Ronan’s too. So nay. Otherwise, I would strongly consider the possibility.”

  His brother laughed at him, and then they continued to dance until it was very late and they retired for the night.

  “We have the hunt to go on with the king on the morrow to replenish the meat for the meals,” Alban said.

  “Early. He always goes before the sun rises.”

  “All right. Sounds good to me.”

  They retired to bed after that. Shortly after both brothers fell asleep, Alban heard a light knocking at their chamber door and wondered what the trouble was now.

  3

  “What are we to do?” Aila asked her sister. “The maids are so sick, I think we need to have the king’s healer look at them. He has his own physician, but he would probably not agree to him taking care of the maids.”

  “Aye. But we canna traipse around the castle seeking help either.” Wynda wiped cool water over Mai’s forehead, the sicker of the two women.

  “What if I asked Alban if he would mind enquiring about the healer? His chamber is only two doors down from ours. I could quickly ask him and then return here while he located one.”

  “All right. But hastily. It would no’ look good if you were caught at his chamber door in the middle of the night either.”

  “Aye.” Aila hurried to throw her wool brat over her chemise, and then left the chamber. A sconce lit the corridor, the flames casting shadows about, making it appear as though ghostly figures were floating about her in the hallway.

  She quickly made her way to Alban’s door, hoping she’d wake him and not his brother. When she knocked, she waited for quite a bit before someone approached the door. She realized her hair was down, not something she had thought of because she was so concerned about their servants.