Chapter 7

7

T he smile slowly slipped from Aidan's face as he made his way toward the meeting hall. His body still burned from just a simple kiss with Tillie.

Nay. 'Twas not a simple kiss at all.

It had hit him like a bolt of lightning, waking up nerves that had been dormant for so long. Her innocent response had fired his blood, and for the first time, Aidan was not as reluctant about getting married. Not when his bride was Tillie Killmartin.

Hector had been after him for about a year to remarry, but Aidan had not wanted to disappoint another lass. He could not bear to lose another wife to depression if she could not carry a babe. That is why when Laird and Lady MacFair contacted him about an alliance and offered their eldest daughter, he had considered it. Everyone knew the Kilmartins were fertile. It was a joke around the Highlands, and he suspected the Lowlands, too, about just how many Kilmartins were in Scotland.

If he had to take a wife, which was expected of him as laird, then he wanted one that wouldn't have a problem conceiving a child. Aidan's scowl only grew deeper as he descended the stairs, servants flattening themselves against the wall to keep from being run over by him in his haste.

Tillie Killmartin, though, swore she didn't want children. He'd never heard a more ridiculous thing in his life. She'd looked serious though. Her chin had raised, and there was a stubborn gleam in her green eyes. He'd watched her full lips purse together and had had the sudden urge to kiss her.

Aidan had been shocked. His body had come to life just standing in the chamber watching her expressive features. It didn't help that there was a bed just a few steps away. His body had been in control, and he had been powerless to stop himself from taking that step that separated him and kissing her.

She was beautiful, but it was more than that. He'd expected a lot of complaining from her during the journey, but she hadn't so much as opened her mouth on a curse. When he'd first saw her at MacFair keep, Aidan had worried if she'd be strong enough to survive the Highlands. She was small and frail looking. She reminded him of a small porcelain doll he'd seen at market, beautiful and fragile, but one wrong move, and the doll would shatter into pieces.

He'd changed his mind, though, when she'd stood her ground and demanded he let her sketch the glen. That was when he first noticed the fire and determination in her eyes and realized she just might be able to fit in here after all.

The thought of bedding a woman tasted like bitter ale on his tongue. He didn't want to be responsible for hurting another woman.

Now, he found himself in a mess. The woman he was to wed did not want children, yet the reason he agreed to take her as his bride was because she came from a very fertile family. It had taken a good year and a lot of convincing from Hector before Aidan had finally agreed to seek out a wife, but it had been his realization that if he gave his wife children then she'd be happy that had finally changed his mind. When the missive from Lady MacFair had arrived, he'd known it was a sign from God.

A slow, crooked grin lifted the corner of Aidan's mouth. Tillie might think she didn't want children, but he was determined to prove her wrong. He was fairly certain that wouldn't be too difficult given the way she'd responded to him when he'd kissed her. She'd practically melted in his arms, and it had taken all of his considerable self-control not to take her to the bed standing just feet away.

The door to the council chamber was left open, and he stepped through. Several pairs of eyes turned on him. Hector looked relieved to see Aidan in the doorway. Hector must have feared he wouldn't attend.

Aidan walked around the large wooden table to take his seat at the head. His chair was fancier than the others with red upholstery and a tall back that had gold tassels hanging from the top. He didn't care for the extravagance, but it was an ancestral chair passed down from laird to laird, so he suffered the indignity of sitting in it.

"'Tis true you have returned with a lass who is to be your bride?" Athol, the elder of the group, asked.

Aidan nodded "Aye."

The council members, as one, nodded in approval. Aidan even thought he heard a couple of sighs of relief. Hector hadn't been the only member to want him to remarry.

"Good, good," Hector said with a satisfied nod. "We must get the invitations out immediately."

"We need to make sure we dinnae offend someone by leavin' them off the list," Athol urged.

Aidan's thoughts wandered as the councilmembers continued talking about his wedding. He was having thoughts about the occasion, too, but his were a bit more carnal and had more to do with the wedding night than the celebration.

"Me Laird?"

Aidan blinked his thoughts back into focus and realized everyone was looking expectant at him.

Och. I was so busy imagining Tillie in me bed that I didn't hear a word that was said. Or did I? What was the last thing I remembered? Something about crops.

Aidan took a chance and answered, "Aye, send some men to help with the harvest."

It must have been the correct thing to say because the councilmen nodded with relief.

What is wrong with me? No lass has ever affected me so much I can't concentrate.

"And about the McJenson lass?" Hector asked. His eyes narrowed, and there was a suspicious gleam in those blue eyes as he tugged on his red beard. As if he knew what thoughts had distracted Aidan.

"What about her?" Aidan asked.

Hector smiled. "Her father said a MacLuther has compromised her and must pay either in coin or marriage."

Aidan frowned. "Has anyone spoken to the lad?"

Athol nodded. "He claims to love the lass."

"Then wedding it shall be," Aidan answered.

The meeting lasted longer than he expected, and by the time it was done, Aidan was late for supper.

The dining hall was huge with a long table set along the back wall where he and family members, close friends, or honored guests sat. Along both sides of the walls were several other long tables and a few shorter ones one row in. That still left a large space for dancing an entertainment if he ever got around to arranging anything.

Aidan walked through the hall to the table and took his seat next to Tillie. It was all he could do not to gape at her. She'd had a bath and changed clothes. Her brown hair was clean and shiny, and when the chandelier light hit it just right, he saw strands of gold gleaming through. She'd left her hair down but had plaited it into a long braid. Thin strands of lace with tiny pearls were interwoven through the braid. A light blue gown that fit her to perfection completed her attire, and Aidan found his body stirring just by looking at her.

He forced his attention to his meal, stuffed pigeons, haggis smothered in sweet sauce, leeks, and warm bread. Aidan reached for his ale and held it up in the air. The others in the room stopped eating and raised their goblets.

"To a successful trip!" he shouted so everyone could hear him. "Nay injuries, we avoided the English. . ." He paused while several men spit off to the side at the word English. "… and I've returned with yer new lady!"

Cheers and shocked gasps followed his announcement. Perhaps the biggest gasp came from Grace, but he didn't look at her to be certain. Getting to his feet, he raised the ale higher with one hand and held out a hand to his betrothed with the other, urging her to her feet.

"Meet yer lady, soon to be me wife." His voice boomed throughout the hall. "Tillie Killmartin of MacFair!"

Whistles rent the air to mix with tankards slammed repeatedly on tables as everyone celebrated the news. Except, maybe, for his betrothed. He could feel her shaking under his hold. When he turned to look at her, she wore a sickly smile, her eyes round with surprise and discomfort. He'd give her her due though, she was valiantly trying to remain dignified. Aidan let go of Tillie's arm, and they both retook their seats.

"Ye could have warned me," Tillie hissed at him, and Aidan grinned. Her words were angry, but she had a smile on her face while she spoke through clenched teeth.

"Aye, but I dinnae see ye again afore supper."

He could feel her glare on him but ignored it as he dug into his meal. He hadn't eaten since they'd stopped mid-morning on their way home, and his belly felt like it was sticking to his ribs.

"Ye might need to build a bigger castle, Laird Aidan!" One of the men shouted out. "Ye brought us a Killmartin, and we all ken what that means."

"Aye!" someone else shouted. "They'll be bairns everywhere!"

"Are ye planning on growing yer own army?" another asked.

On and on the jokes continued, and while Aidan found humor in them, when he saw the way Tillie's small body stiffened, he suddenly didn't find his clansmen's comments so funny.

"Enough!" Aidan roared, startling everyone in the hall. His men looked at him as if he had lost his mind, but he didn't care. "She is to be yer lady. Have some respect. Or ye will face me wrath!"