“Have I heard of it?” Lara nodded to the now-blank slate across the room. “What do ye think I was mulling on over there? I’m to plan the menu,” she stated proudly. Her mother had told her that very morning, and Lara was excited for the chance to show the clan her culinary expertise.
“That is wonderful news, Lara!” Beaming, Nessa leaned over and grabbed Lara’s hand to squeeze it. “I’m happy for ye, and I cannae wait to see what ye come up with. Da will surely love it.”
“Do ye think so?” ‘Twas the one thing worrying Lara most at that point. “Ye dinnae think he’d prefer something more traditional? Something, like Mam would plan?”
Nessa winked. “I think Da would like anything yer mother came up with, if ye ken my meaning. But aye, since Moira vouched for ye, I’m sure he’d be happy.”
Lara’s eyes widened as she realized her friend’s meaning. “Ye think…my mother and yer father…?”
The look her friend gave her was entirely too skeptical. “Ye dinnae?”
Actually, Lara had long suspected that her widowed mother had found love. The two women shared a room after all, and there have been many nights when Mam wouldn’t join her in the bed at all, but would appear refreshed and invigorated in the kitchens in the morning.
Lara had assumed she was sleeping—or not sleeping—in some mysterious man’s bed and didn’t begrudge her mother the happiness one bit. ‘Twas impossible to ignore the spring in the older woman’s step after an evening away from their shared room, and Lara benefitted from the absence as well, because it had allowed her the chance to explore her own body.
Aye, Mam had definitely taken a lover, but was the mystery lover the laird?
Lara shook her head in disbelief. “
This would bear some study.
But Nessa had apparently moved on to a different thought. “I’m excited to see what ye and Alistair come up with for the celebration.”
Lara’s head whipped around. “What?”
When her friend blinked innocently, ‘twas obvious to Lara that Nessa had made the seemingly casual announcement just to see the effect it had on her. “Oh, did ye no’ ken? Da has put ye in charge of the menu and Alistair in charge of planning.”
Frowning, Lara pushed herself to her feet. “Yer brother is already overworked as is!”
Nessa shrugged. “ ’Tis the laird’s will, and ye ken Alistair will be able to handle it.”
“Aye, of course he can!” There was naught the poor man couldn’t do, which is why he was always being asked to do it! “But he already shoulders too much responsibility.”
Her friend shrugged again, still too nonchalant. “What can be done? At least ye’re there to help shoulder this burden this time.”
Huffing, Lara slammed her hands against her hips and whirled around. Alistair Oliphant practically ran the clan’s business as ‘twas; he didn’t need one more thing added to his list! He had to be the most uptight and stressed man she knew, and now he’d been given an additional burden to deal with.
As she paced, she fumed. The man was under so much pressure, with so little time, he rarely had time to train with the other warriors. She knew for a fact he’d had to give up his regular morning rides a few years ago when his father had turned the clan business over to him.
He didn’t have any chance to just relax, which is why he’d taken to doing those naked pushy-clapping calisthenics she liked so much.
“ ’Tis intolerable!” she muttered. “One more thing for him to worry about! Just let the poor man rest, by the Virgin! He does far more than anyone else!”
Nessa was watching Lara, her hands folded in her lap and a secret smile on her face. “So help him.”
“With the planning?” Lara swung around. “Aye, I will.”
“Nay—I mean, aye, with the planning.” Nessa’s grin grew. “But I also meant help him relax.”
Lara narrowed her eyes. “What do ye mean?”
“I mean, go talk to him. Ye could use the celebration as an excuse, but ye could also see how he’s feeling. Talk to him, Lara. Make him laugh. Teach him how to relax.”
Part of her wondered if her friend had set this all up, but that part was quickly being drowned out by a bigger part of her—a screaming, whooping voice—which was hollering, Talk to him! Talk to him!
She’d grown up with the man, and despite her secret spying on him, he likely didn’t even know who she was any longer. She’d said so little to him over the last few years, since she understood the feelings she had for him, and she wasn’t certain he even knew she existed.
“Go,” Nessa whispered. Then, louder, with a little shooing motion, “Go. He’s likely in his solar, as I’m sure ye ken. I’ll go join the ladies and keep them distracted while ye speak to him of planning the celebration and cocks and whatnot.”
In a near daze, Lara nodded. She could do this. “I think…we’ll stick with the celebration and whatnot and leave out the cocks.”
Although, now that she considered it, there was one foolproof way to get him to relax.
Nessa shrugged happily. “Cocks might actually be a fine topic of conversation. They’re far more interesting than food, I believe, and just as much fun to put in yer mouth.” She shooed Lara again. “Just go!”
So Lara went. She slipped out of Nessa’s chambers and hurried down the hall to the laird’s solar, pleased no one else saw her on the way. It allowed her the time to smooth back the hair at her temples, pinch some color into her cheeks, and take a deep breath.
Then she knocked.
“Come in,” came his growl from the other side of the door, and Lara’s knees went weak.
She pushed open the door to discover—thank the Virgin—Alistair was alone. He sat frowning down at a scroll in his hands, but when he glanced up and saw her, he slowly stood.
“Lara?” There was a hint in his tone which made her think he was nervous. Around her?
That, more than anything, gave her the courage to push the door closed behind her and step into the room. “I…I came to talk to ye about the celebration.”
There. That wasn’t so hard, was it?
With a sigh, Alistair sank back down into his chair and dropped the scroll onto the table. “Aye, the celebration. Da wants something special.”
“ ’Tis no’ every day a man reaches fifty years,” she offered, her steps cautious as she crossed toward his desk.
She’d been in this room before of course. And she’d also spent an abundance of hours in the secret passageway hidden behind the blue-and-green tapestry, spying on Alistair. But this was her first time alone with him…when he knew she was there at least.
Surreptitiously, she glanced around the room. His cot was spartan, his belongings neat. But there was naught of the man here, and she ached for him to know how fully he’d given of himself, and all he’d given up, for the clan.
As if agreeing with her, Alistair hummed, then planted his elbows on his desk and dropped his head into his hands. The heels of his palms dug into his eye sockets as he sighed. “I finally got ahead of my duties, and now this.”
“Let me help.”