The Highlander’s Awakening Lairds of Dunkeld Series)

by Emilia Ferguson

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  ON THE WAY

  ON THE WAY

  Warmth. Ettie stirred, feeling her toes warm and relaxed. She was somewhere...she had no idea where. However, it was warm. Her mind was still floating in layers of dream and she fought her way slowly down to wakefulness. Her mind asked a question.

  Where am I?

  Ettie, eyes still closed, sought memory and the answer for that question.

  The forest. Brodgar. The wall.

  Her mind fed her memories piecemeal – the sentries on a gate. A vast tower. A woman with dark red hair and the solemn eyes of a seer. Brodgar's sister.

  Lochlann, the name returned then. You're in Lochlann.

  Ettie rolled over. Opened her eyes. She was looking into a fireplace, the flames settled into a ruddy glow on charcoal. She rolled over, bringing her knees up to her chest. She was warm. So warm. She was well-slept. She drew her hand out from under the covers and ran it over her dry hair. She remembered, distantly, having a bath. She smelled clean. Her hair was soft.

  I'm in Lochlann. I'm clean. I'm warm.

  That answered all the immediate questions. She lay there for another minute, thinking.

  Where is Brodgar?

  Waking without him, even in such pleasant circumstances as these, was somehow upsetting. She had grown accustomed in their three days of voyaging to waking against his shoulder, hearing his breath.

  She felt a blush creep into her cheeks, thinking that. Unmarried, they had spent three nights together. Albeit without any chance of doing anything...unchaste. Still.

  I know now a little more than I did before, of how it will be.

  Amazed at her wicked thoughts, she felt her face crinkle into a smile. She rolled over and sat up. Her head was fuzzy with daytime sleep, but she did not sway or feel sick for the first time in days.

  She slid out of bed, stumbled and caught herself on the canopy, standing on the soft carpet and swaying slightly. “Glenna?”

  The maid appeared after she had pulled a bell – she must have stayed within hailing distance all afternoon.

  “Yes, Lady Henriette?”

  “What time is it?”

  “It's eight of the clock, my lady.”

  “Truly?” Ettie frowned. It was light outside, the sky a slate gray.

  “Yes, my lady. Eight of the clock, Sunday morning.”

  Ettie stared at her. Had she truly slept all day? She ran a hand down her face, amazed at herself.

  “Would my lady like assistance in dressing?” she asked.

  “Yes, please,” Ettie said dreamily. She still felt weary and was grateful when the maid assisted her to a seat, then started to comb out her long golden hair.

  Joanna had provided two gowns for her – one of white linen and one of dark blue wool. Joanna chose the latter and the maid helped her into it, lamenting at how weak she'd become.

  “Here we'll soon set you to rights, milady,” she smiled. “Within a week you'll be ready to dance again. Mark my words.”

  Ettie smiled and thanked her. A glance in the mirror showed her a woman with big slate gray eyes, a long face with skin white from lack of sleep, her hair a golden cloud to her waist.

  “Where is Brodgar?” she asked the maid, who grinned.

  “Just got up himself, my lady. At breakfast with his lordship. I'll take you there?”

  “Thank you, Glenna. Yes.”

  She followed the maid hesitantly down the long hallways, looking at the thick stone walls in awe. This was the fortress where Uncle Heath fostered as a youth her own age. She imagined what it must have been like, when Amabel and Alina and Chrissie were the ladies of Lochlann, her own age.

  It is a fine place.

  “And here's the solar, milady. Now I'll be off. Make up the chamber in case you want to rest again after breaking your fast.”

  “Thank you, Glenna.” Ettie blinked back unbidden tears. She was so kind! Everyone here had been so kind to her. She might have died of cold or hunger in a few more days without this.

  She hesitated in the doorway, hearing voices. Joanna was speaking, voice low and urgent.

  “So, in light of this, we thought it would be best if you went on.”

  “Yes,” Brodgar was replying. “Yes. I see.”

  Ettie swayed and caught herself on the lintel before she fell. She hadn't realized she must have gasped, because a moment later Brodgar had twisted around to look at her. He was well-rested, too, though pale, his hair combed flat. He wore a white linen tunic and looked handsome.

  “Ettie! Come! Sit!” He was beside her in an instant, guiding her to a seat at the table. She slid in beside him, absently noting the fine oak carved table with its twelve elaborately-decorated seats all around. The solar here was grander than that at Dunkeld, with its fine, high-pointed arches hidden almost from view behind an exquisite screen. It was wind-still and warm and discreet.

  “You slept well?” Lord Dougal asked solicitously.

  “Yes, thank you,” Ettie replied softly. The scent of fresh-baked bread and new cheese, of oats and small ale and butter, salted and fresh from the churn, was drawing her. She fought to keep focus.

  “What were you discussing when I came in?” she whispered softly to Brodgar. “Where do we go?”

  Brodgar took her hand. She looked at him again and noticed, for the first time, that he was smiling like the sun had risen. “We have news. Alf is safe. And Ambeal. We can go home.”

  “What?” Ettie frowned at him.

  It made no sense. She slowed her mind down, forced herself to consider each word. News. Alf and Ambeal. At home. Safe. We can go.

  “But, how, Brodgar? How can it be? When...” she trailed off as a servant brought a tray of bannocks and Joanna purposefully poured her small ale – boiled to remove the alcoholic spirits and to make a warm, refreshing beverage – and passed her a bannock.

  “Break your fast,” she said, levelling that flinty gray gaze at her. “Brodgar can inform you while you eat. Brodgar? Tell her the news.”

  Brodgar laughed. “Yes, my sister. Ettie, we had messengers from Dunkeld last night.”

  “Oh?”

  “It seems...it seems Alf and Ambeal are there. They married. They traveled home as soon as it was done, with the document and a priest to witness it. Threw themselves on the mercy of MacDonnell. He, astonishingly, forgave them. Seems he was only too pleased that his daughter was alive. Thank Heaven! He saw sense finally.”

  Ettie frowned. She let her mind go more slowly again, digested each word. Alf and Ambeal were married. Their marriage was accepted. They had gone home.

  “That means that we...” She turned to Brodgar, a big smile growing on her face even as her heart swelled and soared in her chest. “That means we...”

  “Yes,” Brodgar said, smiling like the sun rose. “That means we can go home, my dear. And marry. And love.”

  She rested a hand on his shoulder, very softly. He smiled into her eyes. They looked at each other lovingly. She leaned forward and their lips brushed each other.

  Then Brodgar pulled reluctantly away, turned to his sister. “I cannot thank you enough,” he said again.

  “Oh, you can,” Joanna grinned. “You have already. No thanks are needed, brother. You know that. You've given me far more thanks than are needed then already, see? Now. We have to plan. Dougal?”

  “Yes, my lady?” Dougal smiled. He had a nice smile. Measured and sweet. Ettie liked him and the love between he and Joanna warmed her.

  I love seeing people in love. It adds to my joy. Now I've found Brodgar, I want everyone in the world to have this wonderful thing happen to them, too. I am so happy.

  She grinned at Brodgar, who smiled and squeezed her hand. Then they turned to Dougal, who was still speaking.

  “So we can take the road south, perhaps tomorrow. You will doubtless be eager to return home again,” he said to Brodgar and Ettie with a smile. “There are preparations I am sure you will be planning to make.”

 
“Wedding preparations,” Brodgar said firmly.

  Ettie felt her heart stop She smiled at him. He smiled back.

  “Well, I did ask you,” he said with a grin.

  Joanna let out a laugh. “I should hope so.”

  Ettie giggled. “My lady Joanna, you have a fine brother.”

  “I know it,” Joanna beamed. “An impetuous, wild, stubborn brute of a brother, who Heaven alone knows where Mama found him, but yes. A fine, upstanding man. I love him.”

  Henriette tried not to laugh, but it was useless. Brodgar was looking at his sister with mild surprise on his face, Dougal was laughing aloud and a muscle in Joanna's cheek twitched, showing she tried not to laugh at his face as her eyes sparkled.

  Soon they were all laughing.

  “Brodgar, my brother,” Dougal said with a grin. “She has you there.”

  “My sister was ever observant,” Brodgar grinned. “I am afraid I cannot argue with any of her astute description.”

  “Thank you, brother,” Joanna said. “You flatter me. Now, do be a dear and eat some more of that bread. It has to go somewhere, you know, or it will stale. And you, my dear. Do have some porridge. Warming and salty, just the way it's best.”

  Ettie smiled at Joanna, who patted her hand. She did as she was bidden and ate the porridge. Joanna told them all stories about her work with the crofters as a healer – some funny, some tragic – and Ettie found herself liking her.

  When the meal was finished, Dougal stretched amply. “I'm off to the practice ground. You two should get ready to leave...it would likely be best if we leave early tomorrow morning, so we can reach Dunkeld while it's yet light.”

  “A wise plan,” Brodgar nodded. Ettie sat beside him while Joanna gathered her cloak and stood, wishing them a good day before heading out to the still-room.

  Ettie stayed where she was beside Brodgar, listening to the silence as the footsteps stopped echoing in the stone-lined hallways. She reached across and took his hand. He squeezed hers warmly.

  “So. Tomorrow we go?”

  “Yes,” Brodgar nodded. “It scarce seems possible, doesn’t it?”

  “It is, though,” Ettie whispered back. She squeezed his hand and, as his eyes looked into hers she felt her heart thump.

  They kissed, deep and warm. Ettie tensed as his lips nuzzled hers, his tongue questing greedily along the line of her lips. When it parted them and thrust warmly inside, she felt her chest tense.

  She wanted him so badly! She let her lips part gently under his tongue and as his warm mouth explored hers, the tongue stiff and hard, she felt as if warmth melted through her abdomen, making her lean against him, drowsy and aching with a longing for some strange, intangible thing her body knew and craved, and yet her mind did not fully comprehend. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed herself to him, feeling the drive in her body to press closer and closer...

  Brodgar was gasping when their lips parted.

  “Whew,” he chuckled. “My dear. I shouldn't do this.”

  “No?” Ettie smiled.

  “Well, no. Not unless we want to be very naughty indeed.”

  Ettie took his meaning, reminding her as it did of their discovery in the cave. How close they had come, then, to breaking their agreement! They would have consummated their marriage then and there had not it been too cold or their own need to do things properly overrode it.

  “Yes,” she said, blushing. “We shan't be.”

  “No,” he whispered against her forehead, kissing her. “Not even slightly.”

  She felt deliciously warm inside. They stood soon after and went about their business, but she couldn't hide the smile on her face. Her whole body longed for Brodgar and her soul soared: soon they would be going home; to Dunkeld.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  A WEDDING AT THE FORTRESS

  A WEDDING AT THE FORTRESS

  The trees slowly parted as the slope leveled. At the top, Brodgar knew, was Dunkeld. Home. His heart was thudding in his chest. He couldn't quite believe his good fortune.

  Soon I will be home. I'll see Mother and Father and Amice and Aunt and Alf and his bride and ...and everyone. And Henriette is here. And we'll wed.

  The last part was passing wonderful. He glanced at her now, surreptitiously. He was riding a borrowed jennet, her hair combed and shining, unveiled. Her pale face had a healthy flush and her cheeks had filled out a little, glowing with health.

  “My dear.”

  She heard him and smiled. His breath caught in his throat. Always luminously lovely, when she smiled Henriette was breathtakingly beautiful.

  “We're back.”

  She and he said it at the same time. On the ridge, the first turrets broke the tree line. Soon they would reach the gate. And home.

  “Who goes there?” the sentry called out. Brodgar drew in a breath.

  “It's me, Alec. You know it is. And see, the lady Henriette. And Lady Joanna and the lord Dougal of Lochlann. You know us.”

  Alec grinned warmly. “Aye, I do, sir. Have to ask. Matter of custom. Now, in we go. Callum?”

  “Yes?”

  “Open up smartly.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The gate swung open and Brodgar held his breath as the courtyard stretched out, gray and familiar under the pale rays of the sun.

  “My lord!” a guardsman called out. “You're safe home!”

  “I am that,” Brodgar called out cheerily, hearing his boots thud into the flagstones. He looked up at Henriette, who slid elegantly from the saddle and joined him on the ground. “Now. Where's his lordship?”

  “In the hall. Much has happened since you left. So much news you'll be having to catch up on.”

  “Thank you,” Ettie murmured to a stable boy, who took her bridle. “See she's well cared for.”

  “Of course, milady,” he called. Ettie hadn't forgotten that the horse had saved her life.

  “And we intend to be having a ceremony soon,” Brodgar was saying as she followed him in. The guardsman beamed at them and Ettie flushed.

  “My dear, we could wait until we make a formal announcement,” she whispered, sliding her hand into his as they walked together through the arch. “It will take too long if we tell everyone by word of mouth.”

  “I am so happy,” he smiled. “I want everyone to share in it. I'll tell all.”

  Ettie laughed. She knew exactly how he felt. “I want to tell everyone too.”

  He squeezed her hand, his face bisected with a grin. “We'll see who can tell faster.”

  Ettie laughed and they walked up the steps to the interior of the castle to find his family.

  The solar was crowded. Ettie looked about, feeling her heart soar and her senses swim as she saw everyone there. There was Broderick, smiling in welcome. She had at least expected a rebuke, but no, he had forgiven them. Lady Amabel, her pale red hair brushed and shining, stood beside him, slim face smiling broadly. At her shoulder, Alina stood. Her eyes sparkled. Chrissie was there, wreathed in smiles. And Amice at her shoulder. And beside her, a lopsided smile warming his features, was the lean red-haired youth Ettie had thought long dead.

  “Alf!” she cried. “You're safe.”

  “We arrived two days ago,” Alf said, embracing her as she threw her arms impulsively round him. Beside him, Ambeal stepped forward.

  “I heard of what you did for us,” she said, low voice hushed. “Thank you, sister.”

  “It was nothing,” Ettie said, drawing her into a firm hug.

  “It was brave and resolute,” Alina said, stepping forward. She wore a dark blue gown that shimmered in the firelight, her black hair loose and straight. “I commend you, niece.”

  “It was your idea,” Ettie demurred.

  “Only in part,” Alina said. Her black eyes held her gaze and Ettie swallowed, seeing the warmth and care.

  “Welcome, daughter.”

  That, to Ettie's amazement, was Lady Amabel. To her even greater surprise, the tall woman gathered her into a tight hug
. She kissed her hair. “Thank you for helping all of us.”

  Ettie looked into her pale eyes and swallowed hard. “It was nothing, my lady. I love Brodgar...so much...” Her voice caught in her throat and she cleared it, knowing there were no words for the depth of her feeling.

  “I know,” Amabel said. “And I commend you. I apologize for my former resistance. I thought I was right. I was wrong.”

  “Only as to the particulars,” a voice said behind her, and Lord Broderick laid a hand on her shoulder, smiling warmly. “And those were my idea first.”

  Amabel grinned at him, eyes twinkling mischievously. “I can't have that,” she said with a warm voice. “Or people will think I listen to you and heed your suggestions. And then where would we be?”

  Broderick laughed and Ettie felt her heart melt, seeing the closeness between them. She felt her own fingers held warmly and smiled at Brodgar, who beamed.

  “Well,” he whispered. “It seems we are welcome.”

  “A feast!” Broderick called, making them all go temporarily quiet. “My son is back. And we have to celebrate a wedding, too,” he added, giving a warm glance to Alf and Ambeal.

  “Indeed!” Duncan nodded. “Though the sly pair went and did the ceremony far away.”

  “Let's go down to the great hall, then,” Blaine declared, squeezing his son's shoulder, who grinned. “I've smelled the food all day. I'm starving.”

  They all laughed and Brodgar and Ettie followed the party down the stairs to the great hall. Brodgar held her hand and they waited until everyone had passed, wanting to be alone a moment.

  “My wife to be,” Brodgar whispered.

  “My sweetheart.”

  Ettie smiled as he kissed her. The kiss started off gentle but soon intensified. They were on the stairs in the middle of the fortress, but Ettie lost all consciousness of place and context. She was falling through stars, the wind hissing past. She was in forested woods on green leaves. She was in love.

  “My dearest,” Brodgar whispered, stroking her hair and cupping her face in his hand.