Page 31 of The Guardian

That she had believed a near stranger, not giving him the benefit of the doubt, waiting for him to return. No. Instead she’d quickly married the lying man leaving Hendry to wonder what had occurred.

A pang in his chest brought back a rush of emotions. The physical pain he’d felt at returning to find his woman married to another. Having to hide from everyone to cry in private as his entire body shuddered with tears pouring down his face.

He’d vowed never to allow himself to love again. To not leave himself open to betrayal.

The wind rattled the shutters, and he stood to ensure they remained latched. A question entered his mind. Had Ailith brought the basket to the keep?

The thought stopped him cold.

He swallowed hard. His gaze flicking to the window. Had she sent the basket and fled? Or… was she still there at the keep?

With a grunt, he returned to the table, picked up a dagger, and began to sharpen it. He would not give in. No matter how much he still loved Ailith, he had to remember that she had the power to destroy him.

Just before last meal, Hendry, Liam, and Cynden stood before their men. Each leader took a turn asking for reports, giving orders, and praising when it was warranted. Then the men were released. Those who lived elsewhere headed home, and those who lived there returned to their quarters or to the great room to await last meal.

Many of the warriors adjured to the kitchen area within the guard’s quarters. In the small space where an archer, called Joshua, sometimes cooked for the group. Hendry had eaten there a few times and had been impressed.

It was often said that Joshua’s cooking rivaled that of the keep’s cook, which made for a friendly competition.

Hendry glanced to the keep and then toward the guard’s quarters. If Joshua cooked, it would be only enough for about six men, so he decided he wouldn’t go there and take from their portions. For a moment, he considered skipping last meal, but he was already hungry and by the time he began patrolling the following morning, he’d be too hungry to properly focus.

“Ye looked undecided,” Liam said with a lopsided grin. Then sniffing the air he added, “It smells like roasted hog.”

Indeed the smoky aroma made Hendry’s stomach rumble. “I am very hungry.”

Together they walked to the main entrance, into the wide foyer, and turned left into the great room.

Already servants meandered about with trays laden with baskets of bread, platters heaped high with sliced roast pork, and bowls filled with fragrant steamed potatoes. Others carried pitchers, one in each hand pouring and refilling tankards as they went. An older harried woman hurried to Hendry and glanced up at him. “Sir, the laird wishes a word with ye.”

Hendry nodded at the woman who turned and rushed toward the kitchens.

“What do ye think it is about?” Liam asked having overheard what the woman had said.

Scanning the room, he didn’t see Ailith, so he shook his head. “Probably about the executions. We’ve nae had time to discuss it.”

Hendry walked toward the high board, every so often looking to each table.

Just as he reached where Alexander sat, he saw her. Ailith. She sat with Nala, Alexander’s wife, as well as Ainsley, Cynden’s wife, at the table where the women who lived at the keep usually sat. It was a round table to the left of the high board. Except for when important visitors were expected, Lady Nala, preferred the company of women during last meal. Often citing she and Alexander didn’t have privacy to discuss personal matters at the high board.

Upon reaching the high board, Alexander motioned to an empty seat on his left. “Sit. Eat with us.”

Obviously, the seats had been saved for them. Often Alexander invited them to join him, since only one of his siblings, Cynden, still lived there.

He lowered to a chair and was immediately served by a maid who remained close in case the laird required anything. He thanked the young woman, who blushed prettily and moved to refill tankards.

“Did ye note that Ailith is here?” the laird asked. “She has requested an audience with me in the morning.”

Hendry looked toward Ailith, who kept her gaze down. “An audience. Did she state what about?”

“She did nae,” Alexander said, meeting his gaze. “Do ye have any idea what it would be about?”

Spearing meat and biting into it, he almost moaned at how delicious the pork was. Hendry shook his head. “I spoke to her two days ago. Found out that Brant lied to get her to marry him. She was shaken at hearing the truth.”

Hesitating, he glanced once again toward Ailith. “We also spoke on the subject of Brant’s death and how she’d falsely accused the warriors that had fought alongside him to be at fault. When I explained the bond between the men, she was stricken.”

Alexander’s brow furrowed. “She refused the widow’s allowance and has struggled to survive because of pride.”

It was astounding how much Alexander knew about the clans’ people. Laird Ross was a man who cared for his people, who fought for them, and would not allow any suffering that could be avoided. It made sense that he was informed about Ailith.