Highlander’s Claim - Ian and Ailios’ Story

Ian McDougall leaned away from his already inebriated father, Laird of the Northern McDougall Clan.

The man huffed. "Ignore me if ye will, but I see how you follow the wench's every move. Ye have since her arrival. Bed her, but do so soon, for your betrothed arrives in a sennight."

"I have no intention of bedding Ailios. Unless she willingly comes to my bed, then perhaps," Ian replied watching the laird raise the newly filled tankard of ale to his lips.

"Yer time is short, son. She's no stranger to a man's bed, was married before to a villager."

His father was right. Soon he would be married, tied for life to another. Admittedly, he'd not given much thought to his upcoming nuptials until his younger brother, urged by their father, left with a group of warriors to escort his intended back to their keep.

It was only due to the fact his father had been so ill as of late, that kept him behind. The healer insisted Ian should remain in order to accept his place as laird, if the McDougall died.

Ian eyed his father. The man's gray skin tone and heavy breathing told of pain and near-death. In the last month his father had taken to drinking heavily, no doubt in an attempt to keep the pain at bay. Admittedly, if he were in such a state, it was probably what he'd do.

Not a stranger to pain, having been injured in several battles, Ian always kept whisky in his own chambers to help dull aches and aid him to sleep on those nights he'd been recovering.

Instead of responding to his father, Ian went back to watching Ailios weave through the room, placing food upon the tables and refilling tankards. Although her demeanor remained calm, she gifted the diners with a smile or short comment. He could not hear what she spoke of, but the male whom she conversed with returned the smile. She'd looked familiar to him upon arrival. Perhaps he'd seen her when riding through the village. Strange he'd not bedded such a fetching wench, but then again, if she was married, he'd no doubt kept his distance.

Unlike the other serving wenches, Ailios carried herself with the grace of an upper born female. He turned to his sister who sat at his elbow. "Where did Ailios come from?"

Fiona searched for the wench and her lips curved at spotting her. "Ah yes, the beautiful Ailios Connery," she replied and shrugged. "Her husband, Hamus, died not long ago. She came here asking for safe harbor."

"Why would she need shelter, did he not leave provision for her?"

"Aye, he did, Hamus worked for a long time as the village's actuary. From what I hear, they'd only married a few years ago. He was much older and his eldest son made to not only move into their house, but into her bed as well."

Not surprising given the beauty of the woman. Ah yes, he'd visited the actuary many times. She must have been present at least once.

How had he not noticed her before? Her plush curves beckoned even a near-blind man to reach for her. Long burnished tresses braided and wrapped about her head, gave the illusion of a crown and her eyes, gods, they were the color of the autumn leaves.

As if sensing his regard, her gaze met his and Ian lifted his hand to call her forward. She swallowed visibly, but neared. He found it impossible to keep from studying her swaying hips.

She bent her head and kept her eyes lowered. "My laird, you require something?"

"Aye," Ian croaked and then cleared his throat. "I would like someone to help my father to his quarters."

The golden jewels met his for an instant and a jolt of energy shook him. Ailios's eyes widened slightly, as if she too felt it before lowering them once again. "Aye, I will get someone to assist him to bed."

Fiona's nudge forced him to drag his attention away from the now retreating woman. "Father is not well. Should we send someone to fetch the village doctor again?"

"Nay, it will do no good, you know that." Ian placed his hand over hers and squeezed it. "His time nears, we must be strong for our mother."

Ian tapped his father's shoulder and the laird lifted his drooping head as Ailios and another maid neared from behind them. "They come now to help you to bed, father. Perhaps you should remain there tomorrow, get some rest."

The laird did not reply right away, instead, he looked to his wife who leaned onto his shoulder. The laird kissed her head and Ian's heart constricted. "Aye, I will do that, son." He coughed and took one last draw of his ale. "Hopefully tomorrow will be a day of peace and I can do so. It's imperative that we join with the McLeans if we are to remain safe from invasion by the Campbells. The bastards surround us now and if they decide to attack, we are powerless without the larger clan's alliance."

"It will happen, father, I will ensure our people's safety."

"Yer a good lad," his father told him and allowed the two maids to help him up.

"I will go with them," Fiona stood and took her mother's arm.

For a long while Ian remained at the head table, the food in the trencher now unappealing. Just as unappealing was the ideas of going to his chambers alone. Perhaps, he could find a willing bed partner for a few hours.

A sweet floral scent got his attention; Ailios was clearing dishes with swift movements.

"Bed her, but do so soon." His father's words repeated in his head. Would she be willing? When she reached for his plate, Ian wrapped his fingers around her wrist to get her attention. "Would you see about my bath tonight, Ailios?"

She stiffened visibly, her head snapping up. Wide eyes jerked to him and she nodded once before hurrying from the room.

Ian waived another wench forward to refill his tankard. Turned out to be a waste of effort. It seemed the breathtaking Ailios would not be willing and he was not one to force a woman to his bed.