to make.”
Rory gave a brief nod and waved him on. “As ye al must be aware, yer laird and I have been tryin’ to come to an agreement over Trotternish as a means to avoid further bloodshed between our clans. I am pleased to tel ye, there wil be no feud.” Cheers broke out through the hal . It was pandemonium. Both men and women wept, and Ali took the handkerchief Rory offered her, sniffing her thanks. “I no longer hold Trotternish. It belongs to Lady Aileanna.”
Table after table fel into stunned silence. Alasdair nudged her, and she realized he expected her to say something. She rose uncomfortably to her feet. “I’d like to propose a toast to 282
Alasdair MacDonald for gifting me with Trotternish. I’m honored.” If not for the men on the dais taking up her toast, Ali thought it would have died a slow and painful death—
just like her.
Once the crowd quieted, she turned to Rory. “And, for my part, I’d like to gift Trotternish to the MacLeods. To you, Rory,” she said softly.
This time the celebratory cheers were so loud they shook the timbers of the hal . Rory stood and took her hands in his. “Are you certain?”
She nodded. “Aye.”
Rory grinned, his goblet held high. “To the verra bonny Lady Aileanna, soon to be Lady of Dunvegan.”
He laughed when he heard her mutter to Alasdair,
“You see.”
Rory watched as Fergus, Iain, and Aidan took turns sweeping her into their arms. The clan, not about to miss out on the opportunity to honor her, swarmed the dais. Over their heads he raised a silent toast to Alasdair. The man held his goblet aloft and tilted it toward Rory. He looked as if he was about to say something to him when Cal um swung Aileanna into his arms. Alasdair banged his goblet on the table. “Now see here, mind her wee foot.”
Tables were pushed up against the wal s, and several men took up their fiddles. Rory lost sight of Aileanna in the chaotic swirl of activity. His gaze scanned the hal for a second time, coming to rest on her sitting on a bench with Janet, Maureen, and old lady Cameron. She held a babe in her arms. His chest swel ed. One day it would be their bairn she held. As soon as the thought entered his head, he pan
icked. He reminded himself she was strong, a healer, but stil , a part of him rebel ed at the thought of getting her with child. Then he remembered, she had yet to agree to marry him. Content to watch the clan pay homage to Aileanna, he settled back in his chair.
LORD OF THE ISLES
283
“Ye love her, doona’ ye?” Alasdair asked. Rory nodded. He didn’t know what he could say with out hurting the man, without taking away from his union with Alasdair’s daughter.
“Ye doona’ have to worry, lad. I ken ’tis different with her. Ye doona’ have to feel bad. What ye had with my Brianna was stil better than most. I doona’ fault ye in that.”
Rory was taken aback. It was no secret Alasdair had held him to blame for Brianna’s death. He hadn’t resented the fact. How could he fault her father when he himself wondered the same? Before he could respond, Alasdair pushed back his chair. “I have a long ride on the morrow, and I’m no’ as young as I used to be. If you’l excuse me, I’l be retirin’ now.”
Rory extended his hand and Alasdair took it in a firm grip. “Thank you,” Rory said, and he meant it, more than the man would ever know.
“Ye may wish to hold yer thanks. I mean to have a say where it concerns Aileanna.”
Rory groaned and Alasdair laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “’Twil no’ be that bad.”
“It seems ye get yerself a new wife, only to keep yer old father-by-marriage—an interestin’ turn of events,” his cousin said as together they watched Alasdair weave his way toward Aileanna.
“Interestin’ is no’ the word I’d choose,” Rory grunted. They were sitting in companionable silence when Aidan shot from his chair, sending it crashing to the floor. The ale Rory had been drinking spil ed from his mug onto his lap.
“Bloody hel , Aidan, what is it?”
“My men,” his cousin said, jerking his head at the two men-at-arms who stood in the entrance to the hal . “Lewis must be under attack.”
Together they fought their way through the crowd. 284
Fergus and Iain, obviously noting their hasty retreat, were soon at their sides.
“They’ve come, Laird Aidan. The adventurers attacked, setting fire to the vil age on the south side of the island.”
As Rory listened to Aidan question his men, he felt a gentle tug on his sleeve. “Rory, what’s happened?”
He drew Aileanna aside. “Lewis has been attacked. The adventurers burnt down a vil age.”
“Oh, no,” she cried, and Rory saw the moment the re
alization of exactly what that meant hit her. Color drained from her face. “You’re going, aren’t you? No, don’t say anything.” She tugged her arm from his grasp. “There’s nothing you can say to make me understand.” Turning
