“Well, so am I,” Chrissie declared boisterously from behind them. “I need practice. Besides, I've been to Edinburgh most recently. I should pass on what I saw there. Though Heaven alone knows what a dreadful memory I have for such things...”
“Nonsense, dear,” Blaine put in behind her, dropping to give her a kiss on her cheek before moving on. “I know you speak French, and Heaven knows what else. If you have a bad memory, I must be a dolt.”
“You daft man,” Chrissie said, squeezing his cheek. She was flushed and happy, the compliment bringing color into her neat features.
Ettie looked from one to the other, feeling pain in her heart. So many people here had found someone they loved. She had a sense she loved Brodgar – she knew she had not known him long, but the connection was strong and overwhelming – and yet they were denied.
“Come on,” Chrissie said, patting her hand as, together, the three of them swept down to the hall. “Let's be bold and resolute...we'll need to be if Norries is playing the fiddle.”
They all laughed and Ettie allowed herself to join in, trying to forget.
In the hall, the benches where the men-at-arms sat to dine had been pulled back, giving them a square perhaps ten paces by fifteen in which to dance. Ettie leaned back, looking up at the fine vaulted ceiling. The great hall here was great indeed, a vast fire roaring in the grate opposite, filling the space with red warmth. The high dais was on her left, the entrance to the castle on her right. Chrissie stood beside her while Amice twirled in the open space, humming tunefully.
“Ah. There's our man,” Chrissie smiled, seeing an elderly greybeard in a plaid, plain linen tunic and trews appear at the doorway. He had a tartan bonnet on his head and a vast gray beard, outdone in magnitude only by his smile.
“Ah! Milady!” he bowed to Chrissie, who beamed.
“Norries. Just the man we need. Now, if we're going to be practicing the quadrille, we need something with a steady measure. How about ‘Lady, Wilt Though Have Me?’ Would that work?”
She looked across at Amice with a grin so wicked that even Ettie felt herself smile. Amice blew her cheeks out in a sigh.
“Well, then,” Chrissie said, assuming the air of a teacher. “Come, now. You two girls come and stand with me, and I'll talk you through the steps. Now. One, two, three, four and one, two...”
As she demonstrated, and Ettie, frowning, did her best to copy her, she found herself daydreaming of dancing with Brodgar. What it would be like to have her palm rest on his, as it did now on hers; how it would be to stare into his eyes while the music drifted and flowed round them.
I might as well dream it, she thought a little defiantly. No one can say I cannot dream.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
RIDE IN THE FOREST
RIDE IN THE FOREST
Brodgar breathed in the fresh mountain air and tried to keep the two riding ahead of him in sight. The path went up and down and, while he was at the crest of a hillock he could see them, but sometimes when it dipped, he could not.
Best keep an eye on Alf.
He sighed. Alf was in love. It was completely obvious. He knew Alf like a brother – the two had been raised together all their life – and knew his loving nature.
He's as unpredictable as a brace of squirrels in a nut orchard.
From the time Alf had spontaneously decided to ride to Whitley to go swimming in the loch to the time he had bet the MacNeith's son they could outrace each other in the forest, Brodgar knew how spontaneous risks were part of him. The certain knowledge that Alf would push the boundaries with Ambeal as far as they could go without actually having himself killed was troubling him. All they needed was for him to restart the fighting.
That's all I need.
Sighing to himself, Brodgar rode on to keep sight of them. He didn't want to plague his almost-brother; it was unfair to deny him time with the girl too. Still, he couldn't risk the two eloping right now – and he had a sense Ambeal was as wild a soul as Alf, if not more.
“Alf!” he called, riding up as the two disappeared into the tree line rapidly.
“What, cousin?” Alf called dreamily. He turned in the saddle and his brown eyes, Brodgar noticed as he rode up, were limpid with longing. Ambeal, beside him, was flushed, a look in her eye that suggested she was, indeed, as impetuous as Alf was.
Go easily, Brodgar told himself. He didn't need Alf to go getting offended. Or Ambeal. Talking to both of them was like standing in a hayrick with a lit brand in both hands. Just so much as a moment's inattention and the whole lot would go up.
“I wanted to ride to the stream,” Alf said dreamily. “Ambeal was telling me what a fine spot it was. There's a meadow nearby...she said we could fly hawks here in the summer if we choose to.”
“Oh.” Brodgar smiled at the lass, who grinned back.
“I bet my hawk can outhunt yours, Master Brodgar.”
Brodgar sighed. “You're as bad as Alf.”
Alf and Ambeal roared with mirth.
“I told you,” Alf said to her, chuckling. “You're worse than me.”
“He said as bad,” Ambeal said, putting her tongue out at him. “So I win again.”
Brodgar laughed as they chuckled. They were so happy that he was caught up in the jovial mood. He knew they had to be cautious, though. A major incident between clans was absolutely the last thing they needed at this juncture.
And if it happened, it'd be my fault.
He’d introduced them now. He was the one who’d told Alf that he wanted to end the match. He was responsible if Alf took it into his head to be impetuous. “Alf?”
“Mm?” Alf asked, fixing him with a hawk-eyed stare.
“Shouldn't we go now?” Brodgar asked carefully. “I mean, we're far from Bronley and it will be night soon – you know how fast the evening falls here in these months.” Brodgar shivered, his concern heightening as he noticed the chill.
“Brodgar,” Alf said tiredly, “stop being so worried.”
Ambeal looked at him with a grin as if to ask if he was always so tiresome. Brodgar sighed. He felt as if he was infinitely old with these two youths.
“I'm sorry,” he said again. “I was just thinking the thane of Bronley...” He trailed off as Ambeal's face changed.
“I don't care what the thane of Bronley does today,” she said, tossing her hair. “Let's ride.”
Brodgar's brow shot up, but Alf was turning too. As he rode away, he gave Brodgar a level glare, as if to say: How could you? Brodgar swallowed hard.
Now what have I done?
He rode along behind them as fast as he could, trying at once not to intrude on their privacy but to keep in sight. He really had done it now. Lady Ambeal looked as if she was fit to boil over and Alf was incensed. He might as well have told them to rebel.
The two went faster as the wood opened into the clearing. Brodgar winced, seeing how casually Alf pushed his horse to a canter, heedless of the fact that he knew the territory not at all and might ride through a ditch or into a stump easily.
Alf. Please don't take risks.
Brodgar knew he might as well ask time to stop a moment. He sighed and rode.
“Oh!” Ambeal was saying. “It's higher than I remember, the water level. I don't think we would be sensible to cross.”
“I'll carry you,” Alf said gallantly. Brodgar heard Ambeal giggle. He saw Alf ride his horse close. Saw them kiss in a way that fired his blood just seeing it.
Alf and Ambeal are perfect together. Brodgar shook his head. Anyone would have to be blind if they missed how perfectly suited they are.
Even so, he knew that being perfectly suited to each other wasn't going to influence clan policy. He needed to make the alliance. Not Alf. Or it was fruitless.
“Alf?” he called out as the two rode toward the shore. He knew it was pointless to call them back and shook his head as he watched them ride along the bank, daring each other to jump their horses across.
“Please, Alf,” he muttered under hi
s breath. “Don't. Just go home.”
He closed his eyes as his almost-brother trotted back, sighting the jump. He could imagine the worst: Ambeal being thrown in her attempt, almost drowning, catching a deathly chill. Facing his father's worst enemy with the news that, through their negligence, she was sick or dying, or worse.
He saw Alf frown, and then he seemed to think the better of it.
“It's too wide, Ambeal,” he called.
Brodgar let his breath out in an enormous sigh. Good. Alf showing some sense.
“I suppose,” she called back. She glanced over her shoulder at him, eyes sparking with mischief. “I dare you to do it in summer, then.”
“In summer,” Alf agreed.
Brodgar heard them turn their horses and ride, too fast, back again.
“There you are!” Alf called out, seeing Brodgar there as if for the first time. “We've been here awhile.”
“I took a longer way,” Brodgar said, not wanting to tell them he'd been here in the brush all the time. He felt suddenly shamed at having witnessed their tender kiss. He didn't want to shame them. His brother deserved to find happiness, as did this lovely young woman. He wasn't here to stop them.
“We should go,” Alf said regretfully. “You're right about nightfall.”
“I want to stay,” Ambeal protested, and then sighed. “But we should go. It's dangerous at night. Not just the bears,” she added with a wicked grin. “But it's hard to see in the forest, and the way isn't easy to follow without getting lost.”
“Wise, my lady,” Brodgar nodded. She looked at him.
“I think you approve of wisdom,” she said in a voice that made that sound like a bad thing. “Though I must commend you for it,” she added as an afterthought.
Brodgar chuckled. “I don't know if it's commendable, my lady,” he admitted, moving his horse back so she could go forward. “But it's safer.”
“Safer,” she said, again with that distaste.
Alf smiled at her. “Lady Reckless.”
She laughed at him. “I don't want to know what that makes you, Lord Impudent.”
He roared with laughter and the two sped off. Brodgar, sighing, rode behind.
They arrived at the castle just as dusk was falling. Brodgar commended Alf for good sense. Alf grinned at him.
“You know I wouldn't have had good sense alone. Thank you, my cousin.”
Brodgar gave him a warm smile. “I am too chary,” he said honestly. “But in this case, I am glad you listened. Being in the woods with no idea which way is out is not fun.”
“I second that,” Alf nodded. They both rode behind Lady Ambeal, who crossed the courtyard quickly and then reached the stables, sliding lithely from the saddle and tossing the reins to the stable-hand. She paused in the courtyard, looked at Alf, and then strode away.
“Hot-tempered, I think?” Brodgar said to Alf, who snorted.
“Like a furnace,” he agreed. He grinned. “But quite, quite beautiful.”
“Yes, well.” Brodgar smiled at him. Alf laughed.
“I know, friend,” he said sadly. “What must I do?”
“Nothing,” Brodgar said sadly. “Which isn't what you want to do, I know. I'm sorry.”
“Sorry?” Alf asked. They both left their horses at the stables, walking slowly to the hallway. “Why, cousin?”
“If I was never born,” Brodgar said miserably, “you could wed her.”
Alf gazed at him. “Brodgar?”
“Yes.”
“Don't you dare even think that, never mind say it!” Alf interjected. “I love you like a brother and if you didn't exist, I'd be without a best friend. Now let's go inside. We need some warmth. And I want to talk to you. I need your opinion.”
“Very well,” Brodgar said, dubious. “What for?”
“I'll tell you later.”
Upstairs in their chamber, Alf threw his cloak onto the chair and turned to Brodgar. The natural quickness of his movements was heightened by agitation. Brodgar leaned on the wall, feeling apprehensive.
“I need your advice,” Alf said.
“About what, cousin?” Brodgar said cautiously.
“She's afraid of him.”
“Of whom?” Brodgar frowned. “Of the thane? MacDonnell?”
“The very man.”
“He seems a doting father,” Brodgar frowned. “I am surprised. Not that I doubt her word, cousin,” he added, seeing his friend scowl heavily. “I trust her word.”
“As well you should,” Alf said hotly. “What cause would the lady have to lie? She fears him.”
Brodgar sighed. “You mean...she would be scared to go against his will?”
“That's my exact point,” Alf nodded.
Brodgar let out a long breath. If Ambeal was frightened of how her father would take the idea of switching partners, he should be afraid too. “Alf,” Brodgar said cautiously, “I think maybe...”
“Oh, hang caution!” Alf snapped. “You always expect the worst, Brodgar, that's your trouble. Sometimes, you just have to jump and know you'll get caught.”
“I know,” Brodgar said hastily.
“No, you don't, cousin.” Alf shook his head. “You always think about things to the point where it seems witless to do anything. You could talk a man out of putting on boots,” he added with a laugh as he tugged off his own outside boots. “I mean, look at all the hassle! The fuss, the straps, and if they don't fit! How about sliding over the hose properly? I mean, if you have the wrong boots, then...” he trailed off, as, laughing, Brodgar slung a pillow toward him. It sailed past his head and they both laughed helplessly.
“I'm not that bad,” Brodgar demurred. His friend's words had hit home, however, and he found himself wondering at them. Am I really that cautious? To the point of talking myself out of things?
“No,” Alf admitted. “I exaggerate endlessly.”
Brodgar raised a brow.
“Maybe not endlessly,” Alf said, shoulders shaking with mirth. “But a lot. Often. I admit it,” he wailed, as his friend slung the other pillow. It, too, sailed past by a good two inches. “You know what?” he said.
“I'll admit you're not too cautious. And that I can go too far, too fast. If...”
“If what?”
“If you'll desist from throwing all our pillows in the dust. I have to sleep on those things, you know.”
Brodgar roared with mirth, and as he bent to pick them up from the dust, leveled a playful fist at his friend's shoulder.
Alf roared in surprise and launched himself, boots new-fastened, from the seat. The two young men ended up in a heap on the floor, getting dusty and throwing pillows at each other.
A knock sounded on the door and they both scrambled upright. Flushing bright red, Brodgar found himself looking into the face of a maidservant. She stared at them.
“Um, my lords? Lady Ambeal sent word that supper is laid out in the solar. If anyone wants some?” she trailed off, cautious, as if not sure that two such barbarians actually ate supper, or if they even spoke a human tongue.
“Thank you,” Brodgar said, recovering first. “We'll come up now.”
“Very good, my lord.”
The maid disappeared and the two youths looked at each other. Alf's hawk-eyes sparkled and Brodgar laughed aloud.
The two of them collapsed, clinging to each other with mirth, tears pouring down their faces as they laughed, and laughed.
“Oh!” Alf sighed, clutching his belly, tears on his cheeks. “If she tells Ambeal what she saw...”
“We'll be lucky if we're around to ask questions,” Brodgar said, pressing a hand to his side that hurt with laughter. “I think the thane will throw us out. Dangerous lunatics, us.”
Alf grinned at him, mouth quirky with amusement. They each took a deep breath in and hurried out. Before the laughter started up again.
CHAPTER TWELVE
HOPES AND WORRIES
HOPES AND WORRIES
“Ettie!” Amice's voice echoed from
the stone doorway as she put her head out, calling a warning. “Be careful out there!”
Ettie turned dreamily. She brushed her loose flowing hair out of the way and looked at her friend. “I'm safe enough,” she said softly.
Amice scrambled out onto the ramparts to join her. “Ettie! I was worried. It's windy out here. Come on. You might fall.”
“There's a wall,” Ettie said, still dreamily. She felt tired, though she couldn't have said quite why. The last two days at the castle had passed by with a sort of otherworldly quality, her mind elsewhere.
My mind is wherever Brodgar is right now.
Today, however, was different. The rising wind and the promise of snow melting was not the only reason. Today, she had word, Brodgar would return. A messenger had come from Bronley, bearing word from the thane there, and explaining that the two young men who had been caught unaware in the forest would return in two days' time.
Which meant, Ettie thought with a strange flutter in her chest, they would arrive today. She had been restless all morning.
After even Chrissie commented that she was fidgeting, she had decided to go outdoors. Walking along he ramparts would clear her head. Besides, from here she would see them.
“Ettie,” Amice said, clambering out to join her, wrapping herself in her cloak against the chill of the wind. “It really isn't safe. If the wind catches you unaware, you could be through the gap in the crenellations and over the wall before anyone could grab on.”
“I know,” Ettie said softly. “I'll move back.” She stepped so her back was against the wall and looked out over the gray landscape beyond. It was all forest from this side of the castle, with cliffs capped with dark stone rearing above. A choppy sky completed the picture.
The season was certainly changing, Ettie noted. Her own heart seemed to thaw with it.
“It's a cold day,” Amice said. “If Alf gets sick, Auntie will go wild.”
Ettie laughed. “I'm sure he wouldn't dare. Your aunt's wrath would be quite impressive, I think.”
The Highlander’s Awakening Lairds of Dunkeld Series) Page 9