He leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Just enjoy yourself.”
The grass between her toes tickled delightfully, the sensation strange but welcome. Their bodies moved to the beat of the drums and she let Harris’s hands and instinct guide her. She grinned back at him as they turned and skipped.
He picked up the pace until the world around her turned to stars and all she could focus on was his face.
Round and round and round.
Harris’s coppery curls danced across his forehead in the breeze and she watched as one strand fell over his eyes which crinkled in amusement.
Still they twirled.
Underneath her skin, she was alive—electric. She felt bewitched, although she was sure that Harris wasn’t using magic.
The band played on and Ailsa noticed between spins that the party had also moved outside. The musicians watched through a window, also thrown open to the cool summer night. Angus gave her a wink when she spotted them, his hands deftly flying the bow over the strings of the fiddle. A few couples joined them in spinning, but most were content to watch and clap in time as the dancers twisted and swung each other around.
Harris nodded to the band and the tempo grew inexplicably faster. Now they were spinning and weaving between the crowd. Some of the other dancers were lifting their partners into the air and Harris gave Ailsa a mischievous grin before hoisting her above his head too. When he set her back down, her legs wobbled in a thrilling way and her head felt full of fluttering insects.
Her heart drummed wildly against her ribs as they flitted back and forth. Other revellers filled the air with tremendous whoops and she couldn’t help but breathlessly join in.
The melody changed and the male dancers in the room dropped to their knees while the girls lifted their skirts and spun about them.
Harris held his hands out to her as she danced in front of him, kicking her legs out. He gazed up at her admiringly. “Dance for me, Ailsa.”
Just as she pulled him to his feet, so that he could spin her again, the music stopped. Everyone let out a shout and then stood breathing in deep gulps of night air.
“I… don’t think… I’ll ever recover… from that dance!” laughed Ailsa, bent over, panting.
“I told you that you’d have fun,” snickered Harris. He held his hand out to her. “Let’s go and sit down!” He led her away from the celebration and flopped down onto the grass. On the other side of the clearing, people had started to pile sticks for a bonfire. The smell of pine drifted from them as they handled the wood.
Harris and Ailsa sat side by side, breathing heavily. They lay back, viewing the stars through the branches of the trees. In that moment, Ailsa felt like she could fall into them; like she could jump and fly between them, skirting galaxies and twirling around planets, like she had in the dance. She stretched her arms above her head and pointed her toes, grinning at the night sky.
“Enjoying yourself?” asked Harris. He nudged her side playfully, then rolled over, resting his head on his hand.
“I suppose I am now.” She shrugged. “I’ve never danced like that. I’ve sneaked into parties before, but I always kept to the back, well away from anyone who could recognise me.”
“That’s a shame.” Harris ran his other hand through his hair. “You’d love the parties in Struanmuir. Everyone comes along and when you dance, it’s without effort. The current swirls around you in time with the music and carries your body.” He looked over dreamily to the side. “You simply let yourself drift.”
“It sounds wonderful, but I’m afraid I would drown,” Ailsa said, nudging his foot with hers.
“I would look after you. I wouldn’t let you drown. As long as you held my hand, you wouldn’t die.” At this, his hand closed around her own tentatively. “You could breathe the water as we do.” He rubbed his thumb over hers in slow strokes.
Ailsa couldn’t prevent the blush that crept into her cheeks. “What happens when I have to let go?”
“Don’t,” he replied simply.
When she risked a glance at Harris, she saw that his eyes were examining her face. She watched as his gaze slid from her hair, down to her eyes, her cheeks and finally to her mouth.
“Anyway, you didn’t look like you wanted to let me go earlier,” he smirked in his usual manner. Ailsa’s head still felt like it was floating as she stared back at him.
Before she could regret it, she rolled on to her side and pecked him quickly on the cheek. She leapt up to return to the revelry, leaving an incredulous Harris behind on the grass.
Chapter 39
Upon returning to the party, everyone was taking a break from dancing to listen to a group of men singing. The innkeeper’s daughters waived Ailsa over to where they sat around the fire, sharing a large bottle of whisky. She sank down beside them gratefully, some of her earlier tension dissipating as she found herself amongst people she recognised. After an hour, the bottle had been drained of half its contents. Ailsa had been sneaking only tiny sips, but she still felt lightheaded. The sisters asked very little of Ailsa, instead chattering about their own lives and dreams. She was glad for it and felt surprisingly relaxed.
The eldest’s name was Lorna and she had a man in the King’s army. Kirsty, the second oldest, was a painter and, when not helping around the inn, made a little money selling wee pictures painted on rocks she found nearby. Flora wanted to be a nurse. She was only sixteen, but she would soon be travelling to Dunrigh for her apprenticeship.
Every now and then, she scanned the room for Harris. The selkie was entertaining a group of young ladies in the corner. He caught her looking and gave her a wink and a huge toothy grin. Her bad mood from earlier had completely evaporated as she waved her hand in his direction, then continued to drink with her new friends. Perhaps, she thought, I should cut back on the drinking.
“Who wants another dram?” shouted Gibby. “I’ve opened some of my twenty-year-old malt!”
Oh well, can’t say I didn’t think about being sensible, she thought as she lifted a tumbler to her lips.
A couple of hours later, Ailsa had her head on Lorna’s lap as the girls mumbled incomprehensibly along to a song.
“I believe you are drunk, young lady,” Angus chastised in a mock fatherly voice. Harris had joined him and was leaning on Angus’s shoulder for support.
She stuck her tongue out at him. “I’m not drunk, you are.”
Both men laughed. Harris seemed as inebriated as she was. He kept trying to pick up other people’s drinks before Angus snatched them away.
“Honestly, you two,” chided the prince. “It’s as if this is your first party.”
“Second,” she slurred, “And I like this a lot better than your stinky castle.”
“Ouch,” Angus replied in exaggerated offence.
Harris wobbled on his feet but reached for her hand. “Right you, time for bed.”
“Bed, eh?” Ailsa wiggled her eyebrows at him, giggling. He threw his head back and belly-laughed before picking her up. She shrieked in protest.
“Well don’t come crying to me when someone gets hurt,” mumbled Angus. They both ignored him.
“Remind me to get you drunk more in future.” Harris smiled down at her, carrying her through the thinning crowd.
“You didn’t get me drunk; I did that all by myself.”
“I started the process, so I’m taking credit.”
Harris stumbled up the stairs, kicked open the door to her room and threw her down on the bed. Her bounce made the springs in the bed creak loudly. They both tried and failed to keep their laughter down. Between fits of giggles, she managed to scoot over, and he laid down on the bed beside her. Their sniggering quieted after a while and they stretched out in companionable silence.
The bonfires shone through the window, casting a flickering orange-gold glow on the opposite wall. Ailsa stretched up her hands to catch the light, creating a shadow. Her arms danced back and forth, making shapes as they listened to the fire crackle and the fai
nt laughter from lingering partygoers.
“Did you have a good night?” Harris asked quietly after a while, turning his body to face her and propping his head up with a hand.
She nodded. “I loved the dancing.” The room shifted before her eyes. He reached over and stroked the arm she still had on the bed.
“Me, too. I think when we get back to Dunrigh, we should be thrown a party every night as saviours of the realm.”
“And I would like a new dress for each party.”
He watched as she brushed a hand down the lace of her gown.
“How decadent.”
“Maybe. Not as decadent as the desserts they will serve.” She groaned and smacked her lips together to make him laugh but, for some reason, he remained quiet. She eyed him in confusion and found him staring at her mouth.
He cleared his throat but didn’t remove his eyes.
“Or the imported wine,” he continued. “You know, once they hear about the bewitching Heroine of Eilanmòr, there will be queues of suitors outside the castle gates—”
Ailsa gave a snort. “Not likely.”
He grinned. “It’s true. You’ll never want for a dance partner again.”
She was starting to feel hot and light-headed. “I suppose I’ll have to save a dance for you.”
“You’d better.” Harris said, leaning in. “Or maybe, I want all of your dances.”
He pressed a kiss to her shoulder, and she felt a flush sweep over her body like a tidal wave.
“You’d break the hearts of all the other girls wanting to dance with you,” she whispered, thinking about the women downstairs that had been all over him.
“I’m sure they’ll get over it.” His lips travelled up, until he pressed a kiss into the hollow of her throat. She moaned when he found the sensitive place below her jaw.
“Ailsa,” Harris rasped, “I want—”
Her stomach gave a lurch.
“Oh no. Harris—Stop!”
His eyes widened and he pulled back. “Sorry Ailsa, I was just—”
“It’s not that. I’m going to throw up.” And with that, she ran from the room, barely making it to the bucket where she lost most of her dinner, and her dignity along with it.
Chapter 40
The world was spinning so fast she wasn’t sure if she could hold on. Somewhere nearby, she
heard a droning noise that had likely woken her up. Ailsa tried to pick a spot on the ceiling to focus on, but she saw double of every knot and swirl in the wood.
“Well, well, well.” A voice reverberated around the room. She turned her head slightly to take in Angus’s silhouette in the darkened doorway.
“It seems you two had fun last night,” he chuckled, gesturing to the lump on the mattress beside her. She whipped her head around and instantly regretted it twice over. Once, for the sickening pounding in her temples, and again for the shock of finding Harris laid out beside her, snoring into a pillow. From what she could see of his shoulders and upper arms, he was naked from at least the waist up. She cautiously turned her face back towards the ceiling, trying not to move any other body part.
“Seems like I’m going to have to wake up sleeping beauty over here.”
“Angus,” she croaked, “Tell me now and keep it short. Why am I in bed with Harris?”
“I don’t know, the last I saw, you were being carried up here by Harris. Shall we find out?” He rocked back on his heels before launching himself at the bed. “HARRIS! WAKE UP! WAKE UP, WAKE UP, WAKE UP!”
The selkie jerked up, banging his head on a bedpost. “What the hell, Angus!”
The covers had fallen off him in the tumult and Ailsa was glad to see Harris was wearing trousers.
Angus stopped jumping and fixed an innocent, boyish smile to his face. “I just thought you would want to know that it’s time to wake up.”
Harris growled and flung himself at the other boy, but Angus bounced out of the way. Harris grabbed one of Angus’s ankles and tugged, causing him to tumble onto the bed.
Ailsa’s head gave a nasty twinge. “When I can move again, I’m going to kill the both of you.”
Angus snickered. “Sorry.”
“Urgh, I feel like crap,” groaned Harris, rubbing his head as he lay back down. “I think I may actually be dead.”
Angus tsked. “Look, I brought you both water.” He pushed two half full glasses into their hands, which they both attempted to sip from without lifting their heads too high.
“This is all your fault,” moaned Ailsa to Harris, rubbing her temples.
“What a couple of babies.” Angus grinned and bit into an apple. “Wow, it really reeks of alcohol in here.”
If she hadn’t felt like the room was spinning, she would have lobbed her boot at him. “How are you okay?”
He smiled, mouth full of fruit. “I was sensible.”
“Well, at least I feel better than he looks.” She was about to nod her head at Harris but thought better of it. “Though, I still don’t remember how I got to bed…”
Harris glanced at her. “I carried you up here.”
“Nope, complete blank.”
His mouth twisted and he was silent for a moment.
Did I say something to him last night? She’d been angry with him at the beginning of the party after he had abandoned her. Maybe I gave him an earful when he tried to put me to bed?
“It’s your own fault you had to look after me. If I’d had my own way, I would have sat in the corner and sulked all night.”
“Urgh, this is what I get for showing you to have a good time,” he moaned. The selkie rolled himself out of bed and pressed his forehead to the cold floor.
“I didn’t make you drag me into it. And I didn’t make you drink that much, either.”
“You did. Poured it down my throat,” he sighed.
“Oh? And I suppose I made you lift your kilt to all those girls when they asked you what was beneath it?”
“Oh, no…”
“Not that I saw anything, but there was an awful lot of giggling that erupted from that corner of the room. What do you think, Angus? I reckon they weren’t impressed.”
Harris sniffed. Then, without speaking, he poured his glass of water on his head. Immediately, his skin shifted and there was a seal on the floor instead of the redhead.
“I think Harris is in a huff with you,” laughed Angus. The seal just snorted and rolled onto his back.
Ailsa stuck her tongue out at Harris’s seal form and leaned down to poke him in the side. “Harris, I can see your chubby little belly ripple.”
The seal flapped a flipper in her direction as if to say, ‘Piss off.’
She poked him again, and giggled. “Blubber-butt.” He snapped his pointed teeth in her direction.
Angus fought to suppress a chuckle. “Ailsa, don’t poke Harris. Harris, don’t sulk.”
She flopped back onto her pillow. “I don’t think I’ll be able to travel today.”
“It’s fine, you’re still recovering anyway.” He picked up Harris’s empty glass. “You’ll feel better if you get up though. Fresh air will do you both some good.”
After some more squabbling and a couple of bacon sandwiches, Angus managed to get Harris and Ailsa up and out of the inn. The sun hid behind wispy clouds, for which Ailsa and her head were grateful. Angus led them to the top of a small hillock, where they reclined, enjoying the light breeze. The ground was mercifully dry and the springy grass cushioned their bodies as they gazed up at the clouds, concocting stories around them.
“That one looks like a rabbit running away from a fox.” Harris pointed up at a puff to the left. Ailsa followed his finger, only seeing a blob.
Angus pointed to another. “That one looks like a shoe.”
Ailsa made a noncommittal noise. “Okay, I’ve got one,” she said flatly, “That one looks like… a cloud.”
Harris clucked his tongue. “No imagination.”
She nudged him in the side and stretched. “Go on then
, tell me a story.”
“Okay. See that cloud up there? It’s actually a brave young man come to save a princess in the tower over there.”
Ailsa sighed. “Can’t it be a brave young woman?”
He shrugged. “Sure. So, she gets to the tower, but it turns out a troll is guarding it.”
Angus waved an arm in the air. “The troll asks her to play a game of chess.”
Harris nodded. “Yes, and she wins.”
Angus laughed. “She has so much fun with the troll that they become best friends and decide to kick the princess out of the tower so they can live there together.”
Ailsa chuckled and inched her way over towards the prince, so that she could rest her head on his stomach. He looked at her with surprise but smiled and rubbed her temples. It felt so good that she quietly moaned. Harris cleared his throat, but she was enjoying herself too much to be embarrassed.
She decided to continue the story. “The brave young girl does the hunting while the troll carves garden gnomes.”
Harris was watching the path of Angus’s fingers now, as he slowly massaged her head. Harris nudged her foot with his and smirked, but it did not reach his eyes.
“But nearby villagers hear about the troll and come to the tower to kill her.”
Ailsa sat up from her position on Angus’s stomach and grabbed a stick nearby. “The brave young girl fights them.” She poked him lightly on the chest and threw another stick towards him, eliciting a snicker. Angus rose so that he was crouched with the stick held out like a sword.
“‘Don’t you dare touch her,’ said the girl.” Ailsa thrust her twig towards him. “‘She makes great pancakes!’”
“No, we must kill the foul beast,” Angus bellowed, smacking her quickly on her rump with his own branch. She cried out and he grinned. “Take that.” They turned to find Harris gawking at them. The prince grabbed her stick and thrust it under his armpit.
“Oh, no. I am wounded.” Angus collapsed to the ground, tongue lolling out.
Ailsa folded her arms and came to stand over him. “That’s what you get for trying to kill innocent trolls.” She flopped back down beside Harris who was frowning slightly. Angus pulled himself up from the ground, leaning on his elbows.
The Stone of Destiny Page 16