Lady Eilean

Chapter 40

On a stunning autumn afternoon of bright sunlight and brisk wind, I sat in the grass in a meadow outside the castle walls. Braiding flowers into my hair and feeling quite foolish, I giggled to myself in a blissful, contented way.

A few yards away, a roaring bonfire danced and snapped as the wind tore through its flames. Pigs, chickens, and ducks turned on spits over the coals. Their juices crackled and steamed as they dripped into the ashes. The smell of roast meat and fat was as intoxicating as the barrels of wine and beer scattered across the tables. Here and there, crystal decanters of amber liquor were set out for those wishing for something a bit more serious. Sunlight refracted through the glass with bright rainbows that flickered like spirits.

Hundreds roamed about, laughing, drinking, and dancing. I had declared the day a holiday; a reward for a bountiful harvest. Everyone was commanded to relax and celebrate.

Having partaken of one too many glasses of wine myself, I sought the quiet solicitude of the soft, sun-warmed grasses and wildflowers of the meadow. Seasonal blooms in bright oranges, dusky purples, and moody yellows surrounded me and floated in the air. The din of revelry sang on the breeze and the world was lovely in that hazy state between being tipsy and outright drunk. My fulfillment was limitless.

Bess and Wallis danced in a circle with other women and children bedecked in garlands of pine and marigolds. A troupe of players forced them ever faster, speeding up the tempo of the song until they collapsed in piles of breathless laughter.

I smiled stupidly as I watched Alex approach, leaving his perch by the fire where he sat with the newly minted shepherds. Innis, ever displeased, had been scolding them on a shoddy job done in herding Stormway's first flock. Ellesmure boys and girls did not have sheep in their blood and hearts to a level that pleased our Miss McClurkin. Over the past few months, her elegant demeanor had cracked. Now, ink streaked up her hands and stained her cuffs and cheeks. Souvenirs from her long days and nights spent copying and compiling records. She had stopped powdering her hair, opting instead to smooth her bright mane into a low bun. The longer she lingered at Stormway, the more primitive she became. I wasn't so sure that was a bad thing. From a distance, where one could be spared her disdain, it was fun to watch her face twist and grimace between defeat and passion as she talked.

Missing from the party was Calum, who had returned to the Northern Isles to oversee winter preparations and sift through Istimere's libraries for advantageous information. According to his latest letter, there were already six feet of snow and several documents that proved "unusual" enough to send under armed guard. Though, I'm sure the escort was solely for the sake of extravagance.

As he got closer, Alex seemed to glow. A trick of the sunlight shining behind him caused a golden halo to shimmer around him. He arrived at my side and sat down on the grass with a groan.

"You ran away from the party," he chided.

"I thought it might be unseemly it if the Laird appeared drunk."

"Not only is that the very definition of how a Laird should appear, Eilean, but you are also still in sight."

"Oh," I marveled. His reasoning was sound.

"Is being drunk worse than looking like a recluse?" His eyes sparkled as he teased me. So clear, so blue. So full of warmth despite the frosty serenity of their color.

Looking at him was intoxicating enough, and doing so doubled my feelings of languid contentment. I rolled my eyes at his scolding and placed the flower crown I had just finished atop his radiant head.

"You jest, Lord Leslie, but what you do not know is that I have started a new party out here in this field. The invitation list is quite exclusive."