Fergus’s and Iain’s thunderous expressions relaxed, but the MacLeans were none too pleasant to look upon.
“Ye were alone with . . . that woman?” Moira shrieked.
“Now, poppet, he came to her rescue is al ,” her brother soothed. Giving Rory a pointed look over her head, he added, “I’m certain my sister wil no’ be so sensitive once the papers have been signed.”
“’Twil be done on the morrow. Now if you wil excuse me, I wish to retire fer the evenin’.” Ignoring Fergus, Iain, and his cousin’s looks of astonishment, he walked away without another word.
Ali’s muscles strained and burned as she and Connor, under Mrs. Mac’s unrelenting supervision, moved another piece of heavy furniture. They deposited the trunk beneath the floral tapestry the older woman had appropriated from another room. Ali straightened and kneaded her lower back. “Are we done now?”
“Och, you doona’ need to be so prickly, my lady. Doona’ you think yer chambers look bonny?”
“Fit for a princess.” They were. Mrs. Mac had deter
mined Ali’s new accommodations would be better than the ones she’d been forced to leave, and Ali didn’t have the heart to tel her it wasn’t necessary. She wouldn’t be there much longer. She couldn’t be, not after last night.
“Or lady of the keep.” Mrs. Mac smiled smugly. Ali’s eyes widened. “Are you tel ing me we’ve been breaking our backs readying the room for Lady MacLean?”
Mrs. Mac rol ed her eyes. “Nay.”
Ali sighed. “Mrs. Mac, he’s marrying her whether you like it or not. They’re signing the papers today.”
“Curious thing, that. The papers have gone missin’.”
Wide-eyed, Ali watched as the older woman sauntered toward the door, a self-satisfied smile on her lips. She LORD OF THE ISLES
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shook her head. No matter what Mrs. Mac had done, the union would go ahead. Rory would not let anything stand in the way of him protecting his clan.
“Connor, I’l send Mari up so you doona’ need to go lookin’ fer her. She was givin’ me a hand with the other rooms,”
Mrs. Mac said as she closed the door behind her. Connor bent over the trunk, making a show of rearrang ing it, his ears pink. “I wasna’ lookin’ fer her. I doona’ ken why Mrs. Mac said such a thin’,” he muttered in a disgrun tled voice.
Ali bit back a smile. “I’m sure Mrs. Mac knows that, but, Connor, I’m glad you’re watching out for Mari. You’ve been a good friend to her.” Knowing Mari was wel looked after made it easier for Ali to leave, and leaving must now be her only focus. She couldn’t remain at Dunvegan any longer. If she did, her heart would never recover.
“Connor, what on earth—” Connor—of course. “Here, let me help you.” She hopped off the bed and righted the smal table he’d knocked over.
Patting a chair, she said, “Come and have a rest.” Ali pul ed up a stool and sat across from him. “You’re a big help, Connor. Lord MacLeod must be glad to have you with him.”
The boy shrugged. “I suppose.”
“I’m sure he is. How long have you been at Dunvegan?”
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He furrowed his brow. “Since I was a wee lad, a verra long time.”
“You have a lot of responsibility for someone so young. Lord MacLeod places a great deal of trust in you.”
“I’m no’ so young, my lady. I’m sixteen.”
She grinned. “You’re right, you’re very old.” Pausing, Ali concentrated on pul ing her features into a pensive ex pression.
“My lady, are ye no’ feelin’ wel ?”
Obviously her acting skil s needed work. “I’m just a little concerned is al .”
“Aboot what? Mayhap I can be of some help.” He leaned toward her. Elbows propped on his knees, he regarded her with heartwarming sincerity.
Ali choked back a sob. There was so much she would miss when she left. “Maybe you can, but you must prom ise not to tel anyone of my suspicions.”
He nodded.
“You know about the fairy flag, don’t you?” She held her breath.
