Highlander's Sword Read Online Free PDF Page B

point of calm in a raging sea.
       "And him," said her mother with a sneer when she regained intelligible speech. "How could yer father make this decision wi'out even consulting me? He'll regret this, I swear to ye he will. And ye will, too. Married. Ye ken nothing o' what that means. And to who? A nothing, a nobody, an opportunist come to claim yer inheritance."
       Her mother's derogatory assessment of MacLaren roused Aila to speech. "But, Mother, remember MacLaren is laird o' his clan now and was knighted fighting the English in France. Dinna forget what our family owes him for his kindness toward our kin what fell in battle."
       Her mother dismissed Aila's defense with a snort and a toss of her pretty head. "If I wanted ye to be married, ye'd be married to royalty, maybe even David himself."
       "King David is being held by the English in the Tower o' London," Aila reminded her mother. But Lady Graham would have none of these petty realities and continued to berate Aila for getting married, using such vitriolic language it made Aila cringe.
       "Ye belong to him now." Her mother escalated to the point of shrieking. "He can do anything he wants to ye. Anything! Ye ken? I canna protect ye. Go. Sleep in the bed ye made. I doubt ye'll be liking it overmuch. Go now! I canna stand the sight o' ye. Go, all o' ye. Now!"
       Eager for release, the servants ran down the tower stairs and flew in every direction to spread the news. Aila followed slowly behind and was soon to discover that castle gossip spreads faster than fire on the fields. As she emerged from the tower, Mrs. Haden, the washer woman, came running across the courtyard and, much to Aila's surprise, wrapped her strong arms around Aila, giving her a smothering hug.
       "Och, m'lady, forgive me," said Mrs. Haden, letting Aila go. "I'm so excited about yer marriage to Laird MacLaren. Such a fine young lad he be. He wa' knighted in France, ye ken. Looks right braw." Mrs. Haden sighed and looked up at nothing in particular, a wistful smile on her face. "I recall when I were first a bride. My Haddy and me had quite the time afore the bairns came." Mrs. Haden looked back at Aila with a mischievous smile. "Ye will, too, if ye ken my meaning."
       Aila had no idea what the laundress meant, but the stout woman seemed to require no reply and walked off humming. Before Aila could consider the woman's odd behavior, more castle dwellers came to offer their well-wishes, and even Cook left his kitchens to squeeze her hand in his massive fist.
       "God bless ye, Aila. I was so worrit for ye. Ah, such good news," said Cook, wiping his eyes with the corner of his apron.
       Cook was not alone in giving Aila warm sentiments and congratulations. Hopes were raised as the news of Aila's marriage spread through the castle and to the town of Carron below. It had been a long winter after the grievous tidings of their losses at the battle of Neville's Cross. So many men had left to join the young King David; so few had returned. The Scots were a pragmatic folk. While an alliance between Aila and Sir Padyn MacLaren was not prestigious, it did give the Grahams the one thing they lacked— seasoned, battle-tested warriors. That alone was reason enough for celebration.
       Yet one in the castle was not pleased when news of Aila's wedding reached him. Indulging in a moment of anger, he flung his goblet, which hit the far side of the room, whiskey splattering the wall. Taking gulps of air, he tried to silently regain his composure before anyone could note his reaction, but his body shook with the effort required to contain his fury.
       With the firm resolve of a man long acquainted with deception, he tightened his grip on his emotions, pushing them beneath the surface of the mask he wore so well. Despite his outward appearance of calm, rage seethed within him like a bottled tempest. Seeing the whiskey dripping down the wall, he moved quickly to clean it, noting as