by Jennae Vale
“Nae.” Aisla stood and moved to gaze out the window before turning back to Sara and speaking again. “A good friend of mine has offered to marry me and he has led me Da to believe he is the father. I agreed to marry him, but I’ve been worried I would ruin his chances for real love and I believe I may very well have done so.”
“Wow! He really is a good friend. But wouldn’t you rather find the man you’re in love with?” Sara asked, puzzled by the situation.
“I dinnae know what has happened to him or even how to begin searching. I cannae run off alone to find him, and if I tell me da that I lied about the father he may never speak to me again.” Aisla looked down at her hands, as if she were ashamed of herself. “Perhaps he just decided that he didnae wish to be with a lass like me.”
“What do you mean a lass like you?” Sara was indignant for her.
“He is of more noble birth than I. I thought at first it wouldnae be a problem, but I should have realized when he wished to keep everything secret that he may have felt differently. I dinnae doubt that he loved me, but surely once he returned to his normal life, it was easier for him to see that I couldn’t fit in there. I dinnae wish to burden him with my problems.” Again, she avoided looking at Sara.
“Your problems” Sara was incredulous. “This is very much his doing and by virtue of that fact, it is his problem as well.”
“I appreciate your concern. I truly do, but this is nae something I can fight for. I will end up being the one that will bear the brunt of the shame and my bairn will suffer as well. ’Tis best left alone.”
Sara couldn’t believe what she was hearing, but then again this was the sixteenth century. At least Aisla had someone she could rely on to help her. Sara hoped she’d get a chance to meet him while she was here. A man that selfless was rare, no matter the century.
The great hall was a beehive of activity. Logan spotted Helene directing a group of men who were carrying a large wooden table, that was heavy enough to require six of them to propel it, to its place next to the others set in rows in front of the dais. The MacKenzie family would sit at the high table and their guests and other clan members would occupy the tables being set out now.
“Helene!” He waved her over and watched as she gave the men some final direction before heading his way. He had no doubt she’d be an excellent commander in the field. She had a way of giving orders that made people want to fall in line with her directives. He wondered if she’d learned that from Dougall, or from her stay in San Francisco.
“I wish to speak with ye privately.” He cast a furtive gaze around the room.
“From the look of ye, I imagine ’tis Sara ye wish to speak of.” She set her hands on her hips and stared at him with angry eyes.
“Aye.” Logan raked a hand through his hair. He hadn’t slept all night remembering the look on Sara’s face when he told her to go back. The stabbing in his heart had still not subsided. “Why is she here?” he asked.
“Don’t be daft!” she whispered. “She’s here for ye!” Helene eyed him with disbelief.
“I ken that much, but there must be more.” He couldn’t believe she’d traveled through all those miles and all that time just for him.
“Why would ye think that? ’Tis obvious that she’s quite smitten with ye.” Helene’s voice was stern. “Yer a fool to treat her as cruelly ye did yesterday.” The angry eyes she’d given him earlier were back.
Logan looked at the floor. “She spoke with ye about that, did she?” He was a fool. He’d hurt her. He hadn’t meant to, but how else could she have taken his words. If only he hadn’t been so shocked to see her, perhaps he would have chosen his words more wisely.
“What is wrong with ye? Ye couldnae have been sweet to her for even a moment.” Helene continued to berate him.
“Nae. I cannae. I dinnae wish her to have false hopes. I’m sure Dougall has told ye that I have made a commitment to marry Aisla.” Helene nodded and seemed to let go of some of her anger. “I wish Sara had come back with me when I left, then things would have been different.”
“Did ye ask her to?”
“Nae.”
Helene took a deep breath and clenched her jaw. He’d been reprimanded by the fiercest of lairds in his years of soldiering. They didn’t come close to this foot tapping, wee woman, who now stood arms akimbo.
“She’s nae able to ken yer thoughts, ye fool.” Helene was making no bones about how upset she was with him. He’d never seen her like this. So far she’d called him daft and twice a fool. It was all true, so he could hardly argue with her.
“I dinnae ken what I should do. My heart and soul wish to be with Sara, but my honor binds me to Aisla.” He raked his fingers through his hair feeling helpless to remedy the situation.
Helene touched his arm. “Ye must tell her. She deserves to know the truth. She may nae be happy, but she’ll understand.”
“Yer right as always. Dougall is a lucky man to have ye.”
“That he is,” she laughed. The tension between them dissipated. “Ye should say something to her tonight at the feast. ’Twould be the time.”
“I’ll think on it.”
“Good. Now, if yer nae here to work, be gone with ye.” She smiled sweetly over her shoulder as she hurried across the room shouting directions. “No, no! Not there.”
Logan chuckled to himself before turning to go. He felt better now that he knew what he would do. His intention had never been to hurt Sara, but he knew he had. Unfortunately, he may hurt her more before the night was over, but at least she’d know that if circumstances had been different, she would be the one he would choose over any other.
Lost in her own thoughts, Sara gazed from the window and watched as Dougall strode up to the house and through the door. He didn’t see her at first, so she cleared her throat to catch his attention.
“Sara, why arenae ye with Helene?” he asked.
“I wanted to go visit my friend, Aisla this morning.”
“Aisla? What did she tell ye?”
Sara thought that an odd question. Did Dougall know something about Aisla’s situation? “We chatted about lady stuff. Nothing important.”
“Good.” He seemed unsure of whether he should continue their conversation, if you could even call it that, or whether he should leave her.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Aye. What is it?” he asked.
“I was wondering about the castle. I’m curious how things work there with regards to visitors. Do you always know when someone important has come to visit?”
“I am always aware of who comes and goes. ’Tis my job as one of Robert MacKenzie’s captains to protect the castle and the people. Of course, if I am nae here for some reason then there are others who know.”
“So, if someone came to visit a few months ago, you’d know who it was?”
“Why do you ask, Sara?”
He was getting suspicious about her questions. She didn’t wish to betray Aisla’s trust, so she’d pursue this later.
“No reason. Just curious. As I said, I was sitting here wondering how things work at the castle.”
“Well, you could ask Helene. She’d be able to tell you more than I can about the daily running of the castle.”
“Okay. I’ll do that. Thanks.” Dougall began to walk away, but Sara enjoyed making him uncomfortable. “Have you seen Logan today?”
He stopped and turned back to her. “Aye. Briefly.”
“Dougall, do you know why he’s not happy to see me.”
He hesitated long enough that Sara realized he did know. She tipped her head and awaited his answer.
“Nae. I’m afraid I dinnae.” He was obviously lying. He appeared to wish he was anywhere else but here having to answer her questions.
“It’s so weird. You saw how much we liked each other in San Francisco, right?”
Her choice of words had him confused for a moment, but then Dougall nodded.
“And it seems he was always talking a
bout me when he came back, but now that I’m here, he’s all of a sudden not interested. I don’t get it.” She’d hit a nerve. She could see the wheels turning as he strode across the room towards her.
Crouching on his haunches in front of her, he took her hand, his eyes never wavering from hers, so she could see the sincerity there. “Sara, ye were a great help to me when I came in search of Helene, but I dinnae believe I can do the same for ye.”
Sara was struck by the utter sincerity of his words.
“’Tis nae me place to tell ye what ye wish to know. Ye must speak with Logan about it.” With one last seemingly pitying glance at her, Dougall stood up and walked away.
Chapter 8
The great hall of Breaghacraig was filled with clan members here to celebrate Lammas Day. The room hummed with the excitement of those who had traveled in from the far reaches of MacKenzie territory. Old friends happy to see each other raised their voices in order to be heard above the din of the gathering. Sara was fascinated. She’d imagined many times what it might be like to experience the life she read about in history books and novels. The pages of those books had come to life right before her eyes and she was amazed at how vivid and colorful it all was.
The silky blue dress she wore belonged to Helene. She ran her hands over the folds of fabric, enjoying the feel of it and expelling her nervous energy. Her posture had never been better and it was all thanks to the way Helene had pulled and tugged on the ties that bound her into this beautiful dress. It would have been impossible to put on without her help. Sara had returned the favor and thought Helene looked exceptional in her emerald green gown.
Helene explained that they would sit for their meal and then later there would be music and dancing. Against her better judgment, Sara hoped Logan would dance with her. She searched the crowd and spied him engaged in serious conversation with a group of men on the far side of the hall. She couldn’t help the way she stared at him. He was so handsome and her heart was breaking at the thought of losing him. Perhaps feeling her eyes on him, he glanced up and caught her staring. Sara hurriedly looked away, her heart racing in her chest, causing her to feel light headed. She grabbed Helene’s arm so she wouldn’t fall.
“Are ye well, Sara?” Helene steadied her. “Perhaps ye should sit.”
“I’m fine, really.” Taking as deep a breath as she could, Sara calmed her frazzled nerves. Looking back across the room, Logan was no longer visible. She was wondering where he had gone off to, when everyone began to take their seats for the meal. She craned her head around to the entrance and smiled as she saw Aisla arriving with a man Sara assumed was her father. She was just about to call out to her when Logan appeared at Aisla’s side and guided her away to his table where she sat happily next to him while her father scowled.
“Shall we sit ladies?” Dougall put an arm out for Helene and one for Sara as he guided them to their seats. He was such a gentleman. He helped Helene and then Sara navigate their way onto the bench they would be sharing. It wasn’t terribly comfortable, but it made sense. Separate chairs for this number of people wasn’t very practical. Keeping tabs on Logan wasn’t going to be easy from this spot. He was behind her and it wouldn’t have been right to keep turning to see what he was doing. Besides, if she did she envisioned herself falling over backwards and causing a scene.
Servants began serving the food and drink, and soon the noise in the hall grew softer as everyone partook of their meal. They were seated at a table with some of Dougall’s men and their wives and one man who seemed to be on his own. He took an immediate interest in Sara and introduced himself.
“I’ve nae seen ye here before, lass. Me name’s Hamish MacBeown. I’m pleased to be sitting with such a comely lass as yerself.”
“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Sara”
“How long are ye here with us?” Hamish asked
“I’m not too sure.” The heat of his gaze was making Sara uncomfortable.
“Ye sound much like Lady Ashley,” he observed.
“So I’ve been told. We’re both from the same area,” she replied. This was another one of those times she wondered how much he knew about the time travel that had taken place here.
“I hope ye’ll have a dance with me later, lass.” He seemed nice enough, but Sara was unsure of herself.
“We’ll see.” This guy was enormous. Dougall and Logan were both quite tall. Each being well over six feet, but this man was easily a head over each of them. She feared she’d be crushed in his arms and worried that her slippers would be little protection from his big feet. He had wildly curly red locks and the greenest eyes she’d ever seen. They merrily twinkled at her from across the table. He wasn’t Logan, but she had no reason not to be nice to him. Dougall wouldn’t allow him to dance with her if there was even the slightest reason to worry. Besides, Logan seemed to be busy with Aisla and dancing with Hamish might make him a little jealous. If it did, that was a very good indication he still had feelings for her.
She wondered why he was with Aisla and then it dawned on her. She remembered her earlier conversation and realized Logan was the friend Aisla had been talking about. Now she understood her comment about ruining his chances at real love.
This was bad. She couldn’t possibly take Logan away from her. Aisla needed him. There had to be a way to make this right. Maybe if she could find the real father and let him know about the baby he’d remember how much he loved her and come back for her. It was worth a try, but first she had to find out his name. Aisla wasn’t about to tell her, so she was going to have to do some detective work and she might as well start with Hamish. She’d need a plan, but first things first. She needed to know who he was.
Helene was chatting back and forth with Hamish and Sara joined in. He was actually very sweet and she found that she liked him. He told her many tales of his adventures and she took it all with a grain of salt, assuming that some of them surely had to be tall tales. Helene jabbed her under the table every now and again, which was Sara’s signal that the truth was being stretched. It was fine though. He was a great story teller and she enjoyed listening to him. Dougall was busy speaking with the woman beside him and her husband. Glancing around the room, no matter where she looked people were enjoying each other’s company and the surprisingly good food. Probably not surprising to anyone else but her. She didn’t ask what she was eating. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know, but if she liked it, she finished it and if not she set it aside. Every now and again Hamish would reach across the table and help himself to something she had rejected. He winked at her, as if they had a secret agreement that he could help himself to whatever she didn’t eat. She couldn’t imagine how much food it would take to keep him from going hungry, so she was happy to help. She finished her wine and pushed her plate, along with the remainder of the food she hadn’t eaten in his direction.
“Thank ye, lass.”
She smiled warmly at him and thought it would be nice to dance with him when the time came. She certainly wasn’t going to be able to dance with Logan. And it would be a good time to set her plan in motion.
Her feet were safe. Hamish was quite the dancer and he was very gentle with her. He treated her as if she were a breakable object and it was his job to see that no harm came to her. He’d escorted her to a spot away from the dancing where a table was set with drinks on it. She was just catching her breath when she saw Logan walking out with Aisla and her father. Her heart sank at the sight of them, but she smiled at no one in particular knowing that if she was smiling she wouldn’t cry.
“Here ye go, lass. Thank ye fer putting up with me dancing.” Hamish had picked up drinks for them both.
“I wouldn’t say I was putting up with you, Hamish. You’re quite a good dancer. You didn’t once step on my feet,” she teased.
He beamed at her kind words and lifted his cup. “To the loveliest of ladies here tonight.”
Sara wasn’t good with compliments. “That’s very sweet of you to say, but I doubt that it
’s true.”
“’Tis. In my eyes, there is nae a fairer lass here.” He moved closer to Sara, who tried not to be too obvious when she inched away.
This was getting a little too serious for her liking. “Hamish, do they have these feasts often?”
“Aye. Often enough. They have them for celebration. Ye ken, a new bairn in the laird’s family, a wedding, a visiting nobleman or a special day, as is the case this night.”
“Do they have visitors often?” she casually asked.
“Nae. The last time was a few months ago and then a few months before that.” He didn’t seem at all suspicious of her questions.
Sara didn’t want to sound like she was fishing for information, but she had to find out who it was who had been here. “Do you know who the nobleman was who visited this last time?”
“Aye. Rory Mackall. Why do ye ask?”
“Just curious. It must be interesting getting to meet so many important people.”
“Aye. ’Tis. Although they rarely have much to say to me,” he chuckled.
Sara laughed. “They’d be fascinated if they took the time to hear some of your stories.”
He appeared doubtful.
“They would. I mean it.” She really needed to stop complimenting him. Sara had somehow managed to get herself cornered with her back to the wall and Hamish between her and the rest of the room. He ran a finger along her cheek.
“Ye’ve verra soft skin, Sara.”
She couldn’t will herself to melt into the wall, so she tried to deflect his attention with inane conversation.
“I’ve been moisturizing for years. Nothing like a good moisturizer to make your skin soft.”
His gaze went from heated to questioning. “What is moisturizer?”
She explained to him in very technical terms exactly what moisturizer was, knowing that he had no idea what she was speaking of.
“Yer talk of moisturizers is verra interesting, but there are other things I’m more interested in.”