Page 16 of A Wife for the Highland Villain (Breaking the Highland Rules #3)

A smile tugged at Lily’s lips as she watched Angus slap the table over and over while shaking his head in utter amusement.

“Quite the sharp tongue on ye, me Lady,” Trevor said, wiping his eyes.

“Ye will fit right in with the council,” Angus added, eliciting another round of laughter.

Lily smiled faintly, though inwardly she wondered how often she would have to use humor as a shield here.

Colm composed himself and dipped his head. “As I was saying, we have ye to thank. Because of yer skill and persistence, we may be better prepared should another war come.”

Her spine stiffened. “ Another war ?” She swallowed. “I’ve only come to treat the wounded from this one. When another comes, ye must seek another healer because I willnae be staying here.”

Again, silence thickened like smoke in the hall. Her words seemed to ring quite harsher than intended.

Good God, how long would she have to keep this going?

When the silence grew rather uncomfortable, she tilted her head and forced a smile. “That, too, was a jest,” she quipped.

Another wave of relieved laughter erupted, though it was fainter this time and edged with unease.

She turned toward Alasdair. He met her eyes briefly, his expression unreadable, before leaning back in his chair as if washing his hands of her provocation.

Jacob spoke next, cutting off her exchange, his voice just a bit smoother than Colm’s and much more careful.

“As ye can see, Lady MacRay, we daenae have many alliances. The war has shown us just where we stand in the hierarchy of things, and if we are being frank with ourselves, we daenae like it. We are at a great disadvantage, and the only way we can escape this predicament is to join forces with other clans.”

Lily nodded, considering his words. Unlike Colm, Jacob sounded much more confident and relaxed enough to convey exactly what the purpose of the meeting was.

“In case ye cannae tell,” Jacob continued. “Ye yerself are the first strong alliance we’ve secured in a very long time. Yer presence here strengthens us.”

“Does it?”

“Aye,” Thomas chimed in. “Word of yer arrival to the clan has spread far and wide, and our potential enemies are currently reconsidering their stance.”

Lily opened her mouth to remind them that she had no intention of staying, but something stilled her tongue. A reminder, perhaps, of how fragile this clan seemed.

Angus leaned forward, his bushy eyebrows drawn together. “We were wondering if ye might aid us further. We ken that two of yer sisters are wed to powerful lairds. If ye could persuade them to stand with Clan MacRay, such an alliance would cement us as one of the strongest clans in the Highlands.”

The request wound her for a moment. Her sisters—Brigid and Valerie—were indeed married to powerful men, and both clans were formidable in their own right. If she brought them to Alasdair’s side…

“Do ye ken if that would be possible, me Lady?” Thomas asked.

“Well,” Lily said at last, her voice low and careful.

“I would have to ask them first. But I ken me sisters, and I’ve little doubt they’d lend their aid.

I can send word within the next month, if I’m still here.

At present, I have a patient whose toe must be amputated.

A grim business, and one that’ll hold me here for some time. ”

Colm shook his head. “That is the thing, Lady MacRay. We daenae have until next month. We had hoped ye might send word before the week’s end.”

Her eyebrows drew together. “Before the week’s end? Why so soon?”

Colm’s eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Did the Laird nae tell ye?”

Her pulse quickened. “Tell me what?”

“The cèilidh,” Colm said simply, as though it were obvious.

The word landed like a stone in her stomach.

“ Cèilidh ?” she echoed. “I ken nothing of any cèilidh. There was nay mention of such a gathering.”

Alasdair shifted beside her. She felt his heat even before he leaned in, his voice pitched low for her ears only. “I meant to tell ye about it this evening,” he murmured. “Seems the council has beaten me to it.”

“How convenient,” she responded, her eyes snapping to his, fury simmering beneath her calm.

He only raised an eyebrow, as if telling her not to challenge him before the others.

Colm, oblivious to the silent battle at the table, continued, “‘Tis meant as a celebration of our victory. A gathering for the clan, aye, but also for forging alliances. If yer sisters and their husbands attend, it would strengthen our standing beyond reckoning.”

The men all watched her, waiting. Cornering her.

Lily inhaled slowly and dug her nails into her palm beneath the table to ground herself. At last, she gave a measured nod.

“Very well. I will write to them before the week’s end. But whether they come or nae is their choice, nae mine.”

“Of course, of course,” Colm said quickly, smiling.

Lily turned her gaze to Alasdair, pinning him with a look sharp enough to cut glass. A silent message passed between them: Ye owe me for this.

He met her stare without flinching, but something in the set of his mouth told her he understood.

The council moved on to other matters, but Lily sat straighter in her chair, her pulse still racing.

Why did Alasdair not mention the cèilidh earlier? She didn’t know why it affected her this much, but it did. Everyone’s words faded into the background, and soon she could only hear the jarring thump of her heart.

A cèilidh.

Of course, there would be one. Why hadn’t she considered it in the first place? And what did she possibly have to celebrate?