Connor choked, and Alex spewed whiskey across the floor.
"What in God's name have they done to it?" Alex asked.
"Ach, they've watered it down," Connor said, shaking his head.
"This is serious." Alex pointed his finger at Connor. "Ye must remedy this situation."
Alex spoke half in jest, but something must be done and soon. Unfortunately, negotiations for a marriage between two chieftains' families generally took considerable time - unless kidnapping was employed to obtain the bride. As often as not, kidnapping led to war, so Connor could not risk it.
He would have to swallow his pride and ask Ilysa to return and restore order to his household until his wife, whoever the hell she was, arrived. While Connor would never forget being imprisoned in his own dungeon, Ilysa had saved him from marrying Deirdre, which did help him forgive her.
Odd, but he missed having her about. He had barely noticed her in all the time they were at Dunscaith. But here at Trotternish, she was one of the few people he could trust absolutely, and he had grown accustomed to sharing his thoughts with her. Without realizing it, he had come to expect her brisk step, her soft smile, and the calm that surrounded her. Connor rarely felt at ease these days, but he could be at ease with Ilysa.
That was not entirely true. When her hands were on his bare skin, every part of him was alive with awareness. While she innocently tended to his injuries, he imagined her kneading, stroking, encircling him until he was awash with guilt and throbbing with need. Thank God his wounds were nearly healed so he would not have to endure that pleasurable torture again. He would put the memory of it firmly out of his mind.
As for his dreams, well, a man was allowed those.
Chapter 17
Ach, you're as adorable as a puppy," Moira said, stepping back to take a look at her handiwork.
Adorable? Ilysa stifled a sigh of disappointment. First a doe, now a puppy. After all Moira had done to her, she had hoped, if not for pretty, then at least for attractive or appealing.
They were in a chamber in the West Tower of Mingary Castle that had been set aside for the few highborn women who had come to the gathering with their men. For what seemed like hours, Moira wove tiny flowers into a loose braid down her back. Then she fixed a headdress to the crown of Ilysa's head that was so delicate, it was more ornamentation than head covering. Finally, Moira laced her into this immodest gown that made Ilysa fear that if she breathed too deeply, her breasts would pop out.
"Ready?" Moira asked, and opened the door without waiting for an answer. As they went down the stairs, Moira took her arm. "Now ye will enjoy yourself, or you'll answer to me."
Duncan and Niall were waiting in the courtyard just outside the tower door.
"Ach, ye look lovely," Niall said, sounding breathless, after gaping at Ilysa openmouthed for a long moment.
The look her brother gave her, a mix of alarm and disapproval, was even more reassuring. All the same, Ilysa's stomach tightened as she took Niall's arm and they started across the courtyard to the keep.
"Has Connor arrived?" she asked him in a low voice.
"I haven't seen him yet."
As they passed through the arched entrance that led into the Great Hall of Mingary Castle, the noise of a hundred conversations filled Ilysa's ears. There were so many people! In her low-cut gown and with her hair hanging down her back, she felt exposed, as if she had walked into this huge room full of strangers in her nightshift.
She instinctively touched her mother's jeweled brooch, which hung on a silver chain at her throat. Ilysa had no idea how her mother came to own such an extravagant piece of jewelry, but she was glad to have something of her mother's to wear.
"Is this young warrior the lucky man who is your husband?"
Ilysa turned to find a handsome man with graying temples standing next to her.
"Who, Niall?" she asked and laughed. "Poor Niall has been forced to serve as my protector at this gathering, but he's been spared the task of being my husband."
"A task any man with an eye for beauty would gladly take," the man said.
Good heavens. If she was not mistaken, he was flirting with her. To Ilysa's surprise, she found it pleasing.
"I am Alan, cousin to the Campbell chieftain," he said, then took her hand