Chapter 6

“Careful, Ilyssa,” Catreena called as she tripped on the bottom step.

Ilyssa felt a hand come up and catch her own, long before she would fall flat on her face. She had a ridiculous gown on that Tad had suggested she wear. His reasoning was that any woman who wished to at least consider marrying Cillian would dress up for their feast, though she had not cared about this. Now she had tripped on the hem of this overly fussy red gown, only to be caught by Bran.

She looked up into his face to see him staring back at her. He took her other hand and helped her stand straight.

“Ye all right?” he asked, looping one of her arms through the crook of his elbow.

“Aye,” she murmured breathlessly.

Here it is again.

Briefly, she felt as if she was back in Bran’s bedchamber the night before, quite alone with him. All day, they had avoided talking to one another. Ilyssa had made conversation solely with Catreena on her journey, though she knew she could not avoid him forever.

“Come on ye two,” Catreena called from up ahead. “Our hosts will be wondering where we are.”

At Catreena’s words, they both looked away, and Bran led Ilyssa into the room. Her hand held onto his elbow most determinedly, reluctant to let go, and he showed no sign of trying to shake her off.

As they entered the great hall, Ilyssa saw at once that no expense had been spared in the preparation for the feast. The long oak table was lined with joints of pork and crackling, stuffing that smelled strongly of rosemary and sage, long trenchers of fresh fish, and great flagons that were golden hued with spicy mead. It was an impressive affair, and at the head of the table sat Laird Gilroy, making sure he looked quite commanding and regal for he sat high above the others.

“Dae ye reckon he has put his chair on a little platform tae seem so tall?” Ilyssa whispered to Bran. He smiled a little at her, and they shared a look, before Bran led her further into the room.

Beside Laird Gilroy on one side sat Tad who was quiet, barely saying anything at all as Laird Gilroy tried to tell him of the great wonders of the Grant clan. On Laird Gilroy’s other side sat Cillian Grant. As Ilyssa neared him, he stood at once in greeting and bowed.

She supposed he was handsome in his own sort of way, but the face inspired no warmth in her. All she could think of was the fact this man was prepared to marry her, a woman he did not know, because her grandfather long dead had decreed so.

He can have nay heart at all.

“Please, join me, Lady Ilyssa.” He reached for the chair to draw it out so they could sit together, but before he could lay a hand on the seat, Bran had beaten him to it.

Bran drew the seat out, allowing Ilyssa to sit.

“Thank ye,” she whispered to him. Bran sat on her other side as Cillian leaned forward. Ilyssa caught sight of the barest glance Cillian made in Bran’s direction. She rather suspected he was doing his best to try and ignore the fact Bran was there at all.

Ilyssa exchanged a wide-eyed look with Catreena who sat beside Tad. Catreena seemed to find it greatly amusing and hastily snatched up a glass of mead.

“What can I pour ye tae drink, me lady?” Cillian asked Ilyssa with a kind voice. “We have the finest claret imported from France, or perhaps yer taste is more…” He trailed off and his eyes flicked away.

It took Ilyssa only a second to realize why. Her goblet was already being topped up by Bran, who had reached for her favorite drink above all others – mead.

“Thank ye,” she said again, taking the mead.

“Ah, well how about I help ye tae the food instead. Would ye like pork? Or perhaps salmon?”

Before Cillian could say anymore, Bran had put the salmon Ilyssa loved so much down on her plate. It was only when she turned back to Cillian to speak to him that she noticed he was not the only one watching their behavior with interest. Laird Gilroy was watching them too, as was Tad.

Ilyssa bristled under their gazes and subtly kicked Tad under the table, urging him to say something and dispel the awkward air.

“Ye have a pleasant home here, me laird,” Tad said, not even flinching. “Have ye made many changes tae it?” He gestured to Cillian, trying to get him involved in the conversation, but Cillian did not reply.

“Ah, I have made many changes. The armory in particular I have added tae,” Laird Gilroy exclaimed with a proud smile. “Ye should see some of the pieces in me collection…” As he droned on, Ilyssa felt Cillian lean toward her. She shifted, trying to get away from him.

“I would be glad of the chance tae ken ye better, Lady Ilyssa, without yer…” he glanced toward Bran, “guard dog.”

Across the table, Catreena made a strange snorting sound into her own cup. Ilyssa presumed it was Catreena’s attempt to hide her laughter. Fortunately, Tad had seen it too. He quite expertly shoved a plate of onions and carrots into Catreena’s grasp so she could busy herself doing something else.

“Bran and I ken each other well,” Ilyssa explained. “We have been close friends, almost like siblings, since childhood.”

“So I see.” Cillian shifted his focus to Ilyssa and suddenly smiled. “Come, talk with me, and tell me about yerself.” He spoke with a charming smile but out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bran’s expression darkened. For a second, she thought he would rise from his seat and make some threat, as he had attacked the man in the tavern the night before, but he didn’t move another muscle. He didn’t even bother to eat his food.

Ilyssa shifted her focus on Cillian, catching Tad’s eye as she did so. There was a warning glint in his eyes that made her recall what he had said to her that morning when they had left the inn.

“Remember, Ilyssa, it’s about creating an illusion. Make Cillian Grant believe ye are open tae marriage, and they will nae be so unnerved by me attempts tae get ye out of this. The less we raise their suspicions that I am merely buying time, the better.”

With this in mind, Ilyssa smiled at Cillian, an idea occurring to her.

“First, tell me about yerself, Cillian,” she said, trying to appear as warm and as friendly as she possibly could. “Tell me about yer life here in the castle.” He smiled and leaned toward her once again.

Ilyssa hid her yawn behind her tankard as best as she could. She had eaten her dinner and her dessert, all with Cillian waffling on about life in the castle and his clan. She admired his dedication to his clan, though it had also struck her that he happily talked about himself for the entire evening, seemingly forgetting to ask her anything about herself again.

So much fer wanting tae get tae ken me, his future wife.

“Ye have fascinating conversation, sir,” Ilyssa said as best as she could when Cillian paused and was clearly waiting for her to say something.

Across the table, Catreena snorted into her wine once again. Tad must have been the one to kick her under the table to stop her, for she jumped so much she nearly fell out of her seat and looked at him with an accusatory glare.

“Ye must have something wrong with yer throat this evening, Catreena.” Tad dropped his napkin to the table. “Come, let us take a turn in the fresh air so ye may clear yer breathing.”

“I’m quite content where I am, thank ye,” she said with a forced smile. Tad hovered by the back of her chair, clearly not giving up.

“I shall come with ye,” Laird Gilroy said and stood too. Bran gave one look to Catreena that sent her scuttling to her feet.

“Very well, perhaps a brief walk in the snow is just what a lass needs after dinner,” she said mockingly. Tad took her arm fast and led her out of the room, with Laird Gilroy moving at their side.

“Well, perhaps it gives us chance tae talk more,” Cillian said with ease, seeming to forget that Bran existed at all on her other side. “I have a great love fer horses, me lady. Indeed, I am a fond rider.”

“Then ye’ll have yer match in Lady Ilyssa,” Brand spoke suddenly. Ilyssa realized that he had not spoken for the entire dinner up until this point. “She beats us all in a race.”

“Is that true, me lady?” Cillian smiled though pointedly did not glance Bran’s way as he spoke.

“Aye, I am a fair enough rider.”

“Ye dae yerself a disservice,” Bran said, taking what was a rather large gulp of his whisky. “Ye are the fairest rider I ken.”

“Am I?” Ilyssa turned to face him, quite forgetting for a minute that she was supposed to be paying Cillian attention, not Bran.

“Aye,” Bran said plainly, as if the answer was obvious.

“Ahem.” Cillian cleared his throat, pulling her attention back toward him. “Perhaps we could go fer a ride someday soon, me lady?”

“Aye. I’d like that.”

Bran muttered something under his breath, something so quiet that she could not hear the words. She suddenly felt heated and ill at ease sitting between these two men and was desperate to escape.

I need tae get out of here!

“If ye would excuse me,” she stood, and to her surprise, both men stood too, turning to face her. “Nay need tae stand.” She waved a hand at the pair of them. “I need tae visit the privy. I shall return soon.”

“I shall escort ye.” Cillian showed signs of following her, but Bran stepped in the way.

“Lady Ilyssa is quite capable of walking tae a privy alone… sir.” Bran paused a long time before he added the nicety.

Ilyssa glanced back at the doorway to what appeared to be a distinctly frosty atmosphere as the two men sat down again, neither of them saying anything to one another. Ilyssa hurried into the corridor, hastening to find the privy.

What am I daeing?

She turned to stare into a looking glass as she lowered the skirts of her gown.

I cannaekeep thinking of Bran. I need tae create an illusion that I am considering Cillian.

Yet no amount of talking to herself could stop her thinking of the night before, when they were alone in his chamber.

I just wish tae speak tae him, tae be alone again.

Angered to have such a thought, she flung the door open and hastened along the corridor, praying that by the time she returned to the great hall, Catreena and Tad would have hopefully returned too. She was still ambling down the corridor when a shadow moved before her, wandering between the torchlights burning on the castle walls.

“Oh!” She yelped in surprise, a hand on her chest as she leapt back.

“Fear nae, me lady,” Cillian’s easy voice suddenly came from the shadow.

Ilyssa still moved back in alarm, sinking near one of the burning torches so that Cillian was forced to step more into the light. The glow of the orange fire fell on his handsome features, and she thought how curious it was that in this light, those dark eyes looked almost black.

“Forgive me, I didnae mean tae alarm ye. I just wanted tae come and see ye were well, as ye have been a while.” He stepped toward her, that permanent smile back in his face. “Are ye well, me lady?”

She had no intention of telling him that she had wasted time talking to her reflection in the looking glass.

“Quite well, thank ye. Has me braither returned tae the table yet?” She did her best to walk past Cillian, but he blocked her way.

Fear jolted in her chest again. She knew it was mad to be afraid. Cillian had said nothing fearful, and he had not once tried to touch her in their meetings that day, or even make an illusion to their betrothal, but there was something about him that frightened her.

I think it’s those eyes. Aye, they look as black as coal.

“Stay a minute more,” Cillian pleaded. “I wish tae talk tae ye alone fer a minute.”

She tried to clamp down on her fear. She forced a smile, though her cheek twitched with irritation in the effort to maintain it.

“Who are Catreena and Bran tae ye?”

“Me friends.”

“Aye, but they are certainly close friends for ye tae ask them tae come here with ye.”

“Aye, they are.” She gave up trying to keep the smile in place as it was just too hard. “As I mentioned afore, Catreena, Bran and I have been close since we were very young and me braither also practically treats Bran and his braithers like they are our own kin.” Her words made Cillian nod slowly. “I really think we should return tae the feast now, sir.” She tried to walk around him again. As he moved in the way and parted his lips, she expected to hear him say something, but someone else beat him to it.

“Ilyssa? There ye are!” Catreena’s voice emanated from the darkness.

Ilyssa did her best to hide the sigh of relief that escaped her.

“Ye took a while,” Catreena said and walked around Cillian, pointedly looping her arm through Ilyssa’s. “Shall we return tae the feast together? Yer braither may enjoy a trudge through the snow, but it isnae tae me liking.”

Ilyssa smiled at her friend, so glad for the distraction of her presence.

“If ye would excuse me,” Cillian said, bowing to the pair of them. “I will visit the privy and join ye both at the table again.” As he swept away, leaving hurriedly, the smile Catreena had pinned in place faded away as they watched him go.

“Ye need tae be more careful,” Catreena hissed under her breath.

“I hardly thought he would follow me from dinner, did I?” Ilyssa asked. “I thought it was a chance tae be alone, tae be away from the two of them.”

“Well, ye did look rather amusing sat between Bran and Cillian.”

“What dae ye mean?” Ilyssa stopped walking, bringing Catreena up shot beside her.

“Oh, what dae ye take me fer?” Catreena cast her eyes to the ceiling as if pleading with the heavens for patience, then she tugged Ilyssa on so they walked fast down the corridor. “Something has changed between ye and Bran since yer supposed betrothal, even if I am struggling tae make sense of it.”

Ye and me both.

“I dinnae ken what ye mean.”

“Aye, sure ye dinnae. And that pig on the dinner table was about tae jump alive and play the lute fer our amusement.” She eyed Ilyssa with a mischievous smile. “Or are we nae both speaking of ridiculous things? Something is happening between ye and Bran, even if ye dinnae want tae talk about it.”

“He’s protective, that’s all,” Ilyssa insisted as they reached the door of the great hall but didn’t quite enter. They faced one another instead, their words hurried and quiet. “Ye ken him better than anyone. He treats us all like we are his children.”

“Aye, me and me braithers, most definitely, and he’s always been protective of ye too, but nothing can deny how mad he was at dinner. Did ye nae see the way he glared at Cillian as he was trying tae charm ye?”

“He did?” Ilyssa’s gut tightened.

What is this feeling? What does it mean?

“Oh, ye are blinder than I have ever given ye credit fer. Now, come. Let’s return tae this room and pretend like everything is normal. Clearly it is yer braither’s prerogative tae create an air that suggests we’re all very happy tae be here indeed. He’ll have ye and me embracing Laird Gilroy and his son before ye ken it.”

Ilyssa shuddered at the thought of embracing either man.

“Catreena, wait!”

Yet Catreena did not wait. She opened the door and they both walked inside again.

“Here they are,” Laird Gilroy said with delight, gesturing toward the two of them and pouring out two glasses of mead as he did so. “We have been quite missing yer company.”

When Ilyssa said nothing, Catreena thanked him for his kindness. Ilyssa was too busy looking at Bran and Tad across the room, for the two men seemed to be having a very hushed and quiet argument that they were trying not to let anyone else in on. Bran took a hefty gulp of his whisky as Tad shrugged his shoulders. It was rare to see Bran go toe-to-toe with Tad over anything, but whatever he said to Ilyssa’s brother in that moment caused consternation indeed. Tad didn’t answer and stood, turning his back on Bran.

Ilyssa’s gaze found Bran’s as he turned his head back toward her.

Her stomach jolted once again, as if a candle flame had been placed close to her chest.