The Highlander's Promise

by Lynsay Sands

  Aulay hesitated, but then sank back in his seat with a sigh. Four horsewomen of the Apocalypse or not, he had responsibilities to attend.

  Chapter 8

  "Oh aye, Aulay was a lighthearted and charming devil ere the wound he took to the face," Acair Buchanan assured Jetta. "Went all solemn and quiet afterward though. I blame that whor--lass," he corrected himself quickly and rushed on, "that lass he was betrothed to. Tossed him over like bad ale once he was scarred, she did."

  Jetta nodded solemnly. "Mavis told me about Adaira."

  "Aye, Adaira," Uncle Acair said with disgust and then shook his head and added, "she always seemed like such a nice wee lass. But once he was scarred . . ." Acair's mouth tightened.

  "Do you know what became of her?" Jetta asked with curiosity. Mavis hadn't said. "Did she ever marry?"

  "Aye." His mouth twisted angrily. "The wedding was barely canceled when we got word she'd run off to marry some heir to a marquis or something. She ended up in France o' all places if ye can imagine. Probably suits her. The French all think they're better than everyone else anyway, and so did Adaira. But then, her mother was French, so I suppose she came by it natural-like."

  Jetta's eyebrows drew together as she considered what he'd said. His words had twigged something in her memory. Obviously, she'd heard this story before from Mavis, at least parts of it. Or she may have heard it all ere her head injury, she thought and waited briefly for the twig to surface fully enough for her to grab at it, but that small twigging was all she got.

  Sighing, she let go of it and asked Acair the questions she hadn't thought to ask Mavis. "Then how did my husband and I become betrothed? Did my parents not arrange a betrothal for me at birth, or shortly afterward, as is the custom? I mean, I could not have been betrothed to him from birth if he was already betrothed to Adaira. Did my own betrothed die as a child, leaving me available to be betrothed to Aulay?"

  "Oh . . . er . . ." Uncle Acair glanced around as if for aid, but he and Mavis were the only ones there besides Jetta. All of his men were outside, guarding the cabin in shifts with half standing guard while the other half slept in a small tent they'd set up next to the stables. Uncle Acair himself had taken the second bedroom in the lodge, and Mavis had slept on a pallet in Jetta's room. She had offered the old woman the other half of the bed, not seeing any need for her to sleep on pallets on the cold hard floor, but the maid had refused, insisting she was used to it and wouldn't sleep well in the "soft, hot" bed.

  "What's got yer attention there, Mavis?" Uncle Acair asked suddenly, apparently distracted from her question.

  Jetta followed his gaze to the maid, growing curious herself when she noted the still and alert stance the woman had taken at the window.

  "I thought I heard laughing," Mavis murmured, not taking her eyes off the scene beyond the open window shutters.

  Uncle Acair shared a wry smile with Jetta. "Aye, well, the men do laugh on occasion."

  "Nay, no' the men. I thought I heard women's laughter," Mavis said quietly, obviously still listening. "Oh! 'Tis m'lady Saidh!"

  Jetta's eyes widened with sudden alarm and she glanced down at the plaid she wore over her shift. She'd woken up before Mavis this morn and had pleated and donned it herself ere slipping from the room and coming below. Her lack of practice at the task showed. The plaid was crooked, the pleats less than uniform with one large, then the next small, and the next somewhat askew. The whole thing probably looked a sacklike mess on her, but she hadn't minded when it had just been her, Mavis and Uncle Acair here. However, now her husband's sister had arrived . . .

  "Oh dear," Jetta murmured, thinking she would embarrass her husband looking so shabby. "I should--"

  "Sit, lass," Acair said firmly, when she started to rise, ready to flee to her room. "Saidh was never one to fuss o'er fashion. Ye'll look just fine to her."

  "Oh look! Lady Murine and Lady Edith are with her too!" Mavis said with mounting excitement.

  "Niels's and Dougall's wives?" Jetta asked with alarm, recognizing the names from tales Aulay had told her. While he'd obeyed Rory's orders and spoken precious little about their life together, he had told her stories about his childhood and life before her, telling her about his brothers and even about how two of them had met their mates, Edith and Murine.

  "They're family, lass," Acair said firmly, placing a hand over hers in a way that might be meant to offer support, but also ensured she couldn't flee. "Murine and Edith'll no' fuss o'er what ye're wearing either."

  "And that friend o' theirs, Lady Jo Sinclair is with them too," Mavis added with glee. "And oh look! Dougall, Niels, Greer, and the Sinclair are all with them as well." Pausing, she glanced toward the cooking area and said, "Thank goodness I made those pasties. But I'd best double the rabbit stew I was making for lunch."

  Moaning, Jetta closed her eyes as the woman bustled back to the stove. She was contemplating what she feared was her coming humiliation when their guests entered, but then Acair released her hand and said, "All right then, lass. Go on with ye."

  Breathing out her relief, Jetta stood abruptly, and then grabbed at the table when a wave of dizziness rolled over her.

  Uncle Acair stood at once and scooped her up into his arms. "Ye're still not fully recovered, are ye, lass?"

  "I just stood up too quickly," she assured him faintly.

  "Hmm," he grunted. "I'll take ye to yer room. But fair warning," Acair added as he headed for the stairs. "The lassies'll most like head straight up to see ye once they're inside. So we're just delaying the inevitable."

  "So long as their husbands do not follow," Jetta murmured, wrapping her arms around Uncle Acair's shoulders and then offering him a crooked smile.

  "What are ye thinking, lass?" he asked curiously as he carried her up the stairs.

  "That looking at you I see how my husband will look in twenty years. You are remarkably similar in looks to Aulay. As is Rory."

  "Aye." He grinned. "'Tis the Buchanan blood. It runs strong. All male Buchanans look similar."

  "And does Saidh too?" she asked curiously, glancing back over his shoulder toward the door below.

  "Nay, thank the good Lord," he said dryly. "Buchanan features do no' sit well on a female's face as our poor sister Maighread proved. I love her dearly, but a more unattractive woman I've never seen. Her own betrothed took one look at her face and refused to have her. Said it would be like waking up to me in his bed every morn."

  Jetta's eyes widened in dismay at this news. "What happened to Maighread?"

  "Oh, she took the veil when her betrothed insulted her so. Said she'd rather be a nun than deal with unfeeling bastard men. Which was a crying shame if ye ask me. She may ha'e looked like another Buchanan lad, but she took after our mother to be sure. She was sweet-natured and nurturing. She would have made a good wife and mother." Acair sighed at the memory and then added more cheerfully, "Fortunately, our Saidh turned out the opposite. She inherited her mother's long black hair and good looks, but her father, my brother's, personality. She's pretty as a picture she is. Just acts like one o' the boys instead o' looking like them."

  "Oh," Jetta said weakly, not sure what else to say. The picture Acair had put in her head was of a prettier version of Aulay with black hair and bosoms, stomping around with a sword in hand.

  "Here we are," Uncle Acair announced cheerfully as he carried her into her bedchamber. He'd barely stepped inside when they heard the lodge door opening below and the sound of laughter and chatter burst into the small building. Smiling wryly, Acair set her on her feet beside the bed and added, "And there they are. I'm guessing ye have about two minutes ere the lassies come bursting in here to see ye, so--" Pausing, he tilted his head and listened at the sudden rush of feet on the stairs. It sounded like a stampede.

  "Make that less than a minute," he said dryly, and moved quickly aside just as several women rushed into the room, tugging a beaming Mavis along with them.

  Well, tugging and hugging. It looked to Jetta as if they si
mply swept the woman up on entry and passed her around, each hugging and greeting her as they bustled her up to the bedchamber. Now the greetings died and the room fell silent as four women paused to take her in.

  Jetta peered back, probably looking much like a frightened doe, and then her gaze sought out Mavis. Noting the affection with which the maid was taking it all in, Jetta made herself relax. These were members of her family. Well, three of the four newcomers were. The fourth was a friend, but she presumed a friend to her too, else why would the woman travel all this way?

  Pasting a welcoming smile to her face, Jetta straightened and surveyed the women. Two blondes, a redhead, and one with long pure black hair, much like her own, Jetta realized and smiled faintly at the thought. It was exactly how her husband had described his sister. "Long black hair like yers, but hers tends toward being straight, while yers has nice waves to it."

  "Saidh," she said, smiling at the woman with long black hair, and then turning to the redhead, she said, "Edith," and finally, she turned her gaze to the two blondes and said solemnly, "and Murine and Jo."

  "Ye ken who we are?" Edith asked with surprise.

  Jetta bit her lip and wrinkled her nose, but then sighed.

  "Nay," she admitted. "I mean, if you are asking do I recall you, I fear not," she said apologetically. "But my sweet Aulay has told me a lot about each of you so I knew Saidh has black hair, while yours is red," she added to Edith, and then turned to the last two women to say, "he said Murine and Jo both had blond hair, so I know you are Murine and Lady Sinclair, but am not sure which of you ladies is Murine and which is Lady Sinclair."

  "Oh," Edith murmured, a soft smile curving her lips as she turned to the others and said, "She called him her sweet Aulay."

  "Aye." One of the blondes sighed. "Is that not wonderful?"

  Jetta flushed, a bit embarrassed, and then glanced to Saidh as Aulay's sister moved toward her. When the woman took her arms in hand and peered at her solemnly, though, her expression became uncertain.

  "Does his scar no' bother ye?" Saidh asked bluntly.

  Jetta's eyes widened, but she answered promptly and firmly. "Nay."

  "Nay?" Saidh prodded insistently and now Jetta frowned as she recalled her earlier worries on the matter.

  "Did it bother me ere the accident?" she asked anxiously. "Was I unkind or cruel to him about the scar before I lost my memory? Because if I was . . ."

  "If ye were?" Saidh prompted when she fell silent.

  "Then I was a fool," she said sadly. "My husband is the kindest, most considerate man alive, and the scar does not take away from that. He is handsome. The scar merely adds a rakish air to his good looks. If I was too blind or foolish to see that ere hitting my head, then I was a stupid, shallow child."

  Much to Jetta's confusion, Saidh suddenly beamed and tugged her into a firm hug, saying, "Welcome, sister," as she did.

  The two of them were then immediately beset by the other three women, all of whom rushed forward to surround and embrace them both as well. Mavis soon joined in too so that it became just a large pile of hugging and cries of welcome. Confused though she was, Jetta was touched and found her eyes dampening with tears at the acceptance. Before those teardrops could become a waterfall, it ended just as suddenly as it began, and the women all began to pull away, chattering excitedly as they did.

  "I will tell the men to have the chests brought up!" one of the blondes announced firmly, heading for the door.

  "I shall fetch me brush. We must do her hair ere we take her back," the other said, sounding excited.

  "I'll order a bath," Edith announced, and then glanced to Mavis. "There is a tub here?"

  "Aye, aye." Mavis headed for the door. "I'll order the boys to bring it in and fetch water."

  "Do no' be silly, Mavis," Edith said, chasing after her. "I shall tend that. I did no' mean to make more work fer ye. What is it ye're cooking? It smells divine."

  "'Tis a fine stew for yer noon repast," Mavis said proudly. "Speaking o' which, I needs must double it now there are so many more here for the meal."

  "Well, you tend that while I take care of the bath then," Edith said firmly.

  "I'll need more rabbits," Mavis said with concern.

  "I guess that means I'm going hunting," Acair said wryly, reminding Jetta that he was still there. Heading for the door now he added, "I suppose I'll need enough for lunch and supper too, so I'll take a few o' the men with me."

  "No need to bother about supper," Saidh announced, bringing him to a halt at the door. "We'll all be back at Buchanan by the sup I should think."

  "Really?" he asked with interest. "Does Aulay ken yer plan?"

  Saidh shrugged. "I'm sure he's guessed I'll bring her back. After all, the only thing keeping her here was her lack o' dress. Now we can fix that. Besides," she added with a somewhat sly smile, "I'm sure the people o' Buchanan will be glad to see their laird's wife is alive and well."

  Acair grinned at the comment and nodded approval before turning to Jetta and saying, "The lassies'll take good care o' ye, girl, and their men'll be here to stand guard while I'm away hunting up another rabbit. But send one o' the soldiers fer me do ye need me."

  "Thank you," she whispered.

  Smiling, he gave her a wink and headed out the door.

  Jetta watched him go and then glanced to Saidh and asked, "Are we really going to Buchanan today?"

  "Aye," Saidh said firmly. "I think it is the best thing we can do under the circumstances."

  Jetta nodded solemnly, but taking in the spark of something in the woman's eyes and suspecting she understood what Saidh was hoping would happen, Jetta sighed and cautioned, "I will be glad to see my husband again. I missed him almost the moment he left. But I hope you are not thinking that being there will help spark some memories in me."

  Saidh tilted her head and eyed her curiously. "Ye do no' think it will?"

  Jetta shook her head. "If seeing and being with the man I obviously love dearly did not spark memories, I do not see how a building could."

  Saidh paused briefly and swallowed, her eyes shimmering with what looked suspiciously like tears, before she asked, "Ye love him?"

  "How could I not? He is wonderful," Jetta said with a wide smile, happy to talk about her husband. "He cared for me all through my illness with such patience and concern, and truly every time he kisses or touches me--" Realizing what she was saying, Jetta paused and was sure by the heat in her face that she was blushing.

  "Kisses and touches and . . . ?" Saidh murmured, and then asked delicately, "You two have no' . . . ?"

  Jetta shook her head quickly, grateful when the woman didn't finish her question. Positive she was now as red as a tomato, Jetta explained, "Rory insists I should not have excitement of any kind until I am healed, so other than that one time when he . . ." Pausing, she swallowed and shivered as she recalled him pleasuring her on the table. After a moment though, she shook her head and cleared her throat before continuing, "Well, and that was not the actual bedding or anything, but I was very excited, but Aulay has not done anything like that since because of Rory's orders I not be excited."

  "Ah." Saidh grinned in a way that made Jetta sure the woman had a good idea what the "not the actual bedding" had entailed. Tempering her grin now, she asked, "But ye like his kisses and touches?"

  "Oh aye," Jetta admitted on a sigh. "Aulay is truly wonderful in all ways. I find it hard to believe I was so lucky as to have him to husband."

  "But ye do," Saidh announced firmly. "And I'm going to see it stays that way."

  Jetta glanced at her uncertainly. "See that it stays that way?"

  "Here we are!" Edith burst into the room with a passel of soldiers in tow. As they trudged in with their burdens, she announced, "The tub and the cold water are here, and there are several pots of water warming over the fire. A few minutes and they should be ready too!"

  "I'll go check on them and tell Greer we plan to return to Buchanan ere day's end," Saidh announced, hurrying f
or the door. "He'll want to send one o' the men back to warn Cook so he kens he has extra mouths to feed."

  Jetta watched her go with a frown. She knew from the tales Aulay had told her that Greer was Saidh's husband, and she understood that the woman probably did need to let him know they weren't staying so that the men could prepare to leave rather than settle in here, but she wished Saidh would stay so she could question her about the "see that it stays that way," bit. The words didn't even make sense to her. Why would Saidh need to see it stayed that way? Was there some question that it wouldn't? Was her husband considering setting her aside because of her head injury? Perhaps he didn't like that she couldn't remember him. Perhaps he feared this memory affliction could be passed on to their children when they had them. Dear God, surely he wouldn't set her aside?

  "Here we go!"

  Jetta glanced toward the blonde who entered the room on that announcement. Her eyes widened as she saw the men following the woman, carrying chests. She could see three at first, but as the first men entered, she saw more behind them and it turned out there were six chests in all, each needing two men to carry them.

  "What . . . ?" she asked faintly, eyeing the chests with curiosity.

  "Dresses," Edith announced with excitement.

  "Well, most of them have dresses," the blonde corrected her. "There are also two chests of cloth for you to have new gowns made to your taste."

  "True," Edith agreed with a grin. "Jo had scads of cloth sent to her by her uncle and she kindly piled two chests full of it fer ye."

  "Jo," Jetta murmured, smiling at the woman, both out of gratitude and because she now knew which blonde was which. Expression sincere, she smiled at the women and said, "Thank you. This is so very kind of you." Her smile fading a bit, she shifted her gaze to the chests as each one was set down and added, "I could hardly believe it when my husband said all of my belongings had been lost when the ship sank."

  When no one commented, she frowned and shifted her gaze back to the women. "Where were we going?"

  "Oh, well . . ." Edith hesitated and looked to the other two women as if for help.

  "I fear we do no' ken the answer to that," Murine said quietly. "Dougall mentioned that Aulay liked to take a bit o' break this time o' year, but I do no' recall his saying where he planned to go."