Page 38 of The Dragon Laird’s Obsession

A woman laughed, and soon, two of the men were dancing between the tables, boots striking the rushes as the music quickened. Another pair joined them. Even Beth, who had spent the first portion of supper scolding three servants and one dog, clapped along from the corner of the crowd.

Ailis smiled at everything unfolding.

She loved this. The noise. The music. The sudden burst of laughter. The way people forgot themselves when there was enough ale in their cups and music in their ears. But Gordon stayed seated and drank through it all.

Ailis found herself wondering why he did not join in the celebration. She knew she should not care, but she found it inherently hard not to concern herself with it.

She glanced at him again, and he lifted his quaich. Their gazes met over the flames, and the fire between them shifted, throwing gold across his face. His gaze was fixed on her with such intensity that something low in her stomach tightened.

She looked away first.

“Jane is dancin’,” Marion said beside her.

Ailis turned toward her and saw the girl twirling around in Malcolm’s arms, her head tossed back as she enjoyed the moment.

Ailis laughed softly at the sight, her heart warming as she realized the people here in McLaren were different than she had imagined. The rumors of their clan and their dragon laird had made it seem as if there was no room for joy here. But she had felt welcome every moment since she arrived.

Here, the people did not care much about her reputation. They did not care that she was ruined when she fled her marriage to the Laird’s brother.

Ailis did not know if she should be grateful for that, as it was a chance to start afresh.

Or cautious because they will hate me when I leave again.

Her thoughts stayed turmoiled as she watched the dance then her gaze drifted back toward Gordon.

“What is wrong with him?” she asked quietly.

Marion looked toward her nephew. “With Gordon?”

“Aye.”

Marion’s expression softened. “He has always been a man who keeps more inside than he gives away.”

“That sounds exhaustin’.”

“For him or for those around him?” Marion asked.

Ailis smiled. “Both.”

Marion’s eyes twinkled.

Before she could answer, one of the older men called across the hall, “Me Laird!”

Gordon lifted his gaze as the man asked, “Will ye play for us?”

Gordon’s brows drew together in confusion. “Nay,” he blurted, his chin set in that stony way.

The answer came so quickly that laughter broke out around the tables.

Marion only looked amused. “Oh, ye cannae refuse,” she chided softly. “It is a celebration.”

“I have nay wish to.”

“Nonsense… Everyone wishes to hear ye play. Ailis too, do ye nay?”

Ailis glanced between them and nodded.

“The clarsach,” Marion continued with a hand gesture. “Ye have nae played for years. Nae since…” She trailed off when Gordon’s scowl deepened.