The Chieftain - By Margaret Mallory Page 0,13

turned toward Connor, yet she could tell that the lass was beautiful. Her neck was long and graceful, her rich wine gown was perfection, and she had that aura of confidence that the most beautiful women had.

Ilysa's heart felt heavy as she heard the young woman's laugh above the noise in the hall and saw the light in Connor's eyes. When he shifted his gaze and met Ilysa's, she was embarrassed to be caught staring.

"'Tis not like you to be late for dinner," Connor called down the table to her. He made it sound as if she were a child who had been off playing instead of moving heaven and earth to put on a feast the day after her arrival. "This is Ilysa, my best friend's sister and the daughter of the good woman who had the misfortune to be my nursemaid."

Ilysa lowered her gaze and willed herself not to blush as all eyes were suddenly on her. Connor did not mean to embarrass her, but by introducing her without giving her father's name, he may as well stand on the table and shout that her father was unknown. Of course, no one knew her father's name, but why did Connor have to introduce her at all?

"You met James at Dunscaith," Connor said to her, "and this is his sister, Deirdre..."

Ilysa's heart dropped a little lower as Connor introduced the two tall, golden-haired guests. Deirdre looked like a Nordic princess with her full, red lips, high cheekbones, and wide blue eyes. At the moment, she was squinting those lovely eyes ever so slightly, as if she was curious why she was being introduced to the mouse at the end of table.

After Connor finished reciting Deirdre's lineage all the way back to the first Lord of the Isles, he and his guests fell into conversation again.

"Delicious dinner," Niall said as he speared another hunk of venison. "This smells like heaven and tastes even better."

Ilysa was proud of the meal and the honor it brought to the clan. Cook was a master. But her pleasure waned when she noticed how Connor's gaze kept returning to Deirdre. No wonder. While nothing could have hidden Deirdre's beauty, the wine-colored gown showed off her fair hair and voluptuous curves to great advantage.

Ilysa looked down at her own plain brown gown, not looking for spots this time, but truly seeing it. Normally, she gave her clothes little thought. Her mother had drilled into her from an early age to be inconspicuous, and it had always served her well. But just this once, she wished she had something pretty to wear.

Ach, as if a pretty gown could make Connor look at her with lust in his eyes as he was looking at Deirdre now.

* * *

"Has your father accepted the Crown's offer?" Connor asked James after they had withdrawn to his chamber for a private discussion.

"Not yet, but I'm certain he will," James said.

He would be a fool not to. The Crown had been remarkably generous, considering the prominent role James's father had taken in the rebellion. Like prodigal sons, the clans that had joined the rebellion were being treated better than some of the clans - such as Connor's - that had not fought against the Crown.

"With the rebellion behind us, or nearly so," James continued, "there is no reason our clans cannot renew the close friendship we had before."

Connor was pleased that James was the first to raise the subject. He paused to take a sip of his whiskey. He did not wish to appear to be as anxious as he was for the alliance.

"The Crown gave Alastair MacLeod a royal charter to my lands here on Trotternish for turning against his former allies," Connor said. "I take a commitment to an ally more seriously."

"As does my father." James drummed his fingers on the table, then stopped and raised an eyebrow. "I'd say your worst problem is not the charter, but that the MacLeods control your lands."

That was the God's truth. Connor shrugged noncommittally, though they both knew he needed a strong ally like James's father to push the MacLeods out of Trotternish.

"'Tis a shame ye have this new trouble as well," James said.

Connor kept his face blank, though he had no notion what new trouble James was referring to. Whatever it was, it had made James confident.

"Your uncle Hugh has done the same as Alastair MacLeod," James said. "He captured two other pirate leaders and turned them over to the Crown."

Connor resisted the

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