Page 25 of Claimed Highland Brides

3

AN IMPROMPTU MEETING

J amesina walked into the study, having been summoned by her brother-in-law. She was not in the least surprised to find him seated on the bench near the bay windows, with her sister. She walked up to them, sinking into the winged armchair strategically placed opposite them.

“Is there some ill news?” she asked after examining their faces, a frown furrowing her brows.

Fiona sighed deeply. “I’m afraid there is.”

Jamesina leaned forward, her heart beating rapidly. “Tell me.”

“Ye remember how Uncle Donnchadh made a match for me wi’ Padraig Hunter tae save me from all th’ treasure seekers?”

Jamesina grinned. “How could I forget?”

“Weel, it seems they havenae just toddled off wi’ their tails between their legs.”

“Och aye?”

“Aye. Daividh has heard rumors that there are men at the mines from Laird Hunter’s clan. They’ve come to make trouble in hopes of forcing our hand.”

Jamesina frowned. “So what will ye do?”

“’Tis a family decision is it no?” Fiona said softly.

Jamesina’s eyes shifted to Daividh. “Mayhap, but he is still Laird of Braenaird Keep.”

“And I am in agreement wi’ my wife. ’Tis a family decision.”

Jamesina felt her chest tighten as if something was happening which she did not understand and would not want. “Ye dinnae plan tae…?” She could not quite get the words out.

“We want to honor Da’s wishes but we also want tae keep ye safe.”

Jamesina sighed. “And how will ye do tha’?”

Fiona and Daividh exchanged glances. “We thought I should consult Madame Aifric,” Daividh said. “She kens a thing or two aboot the future. She might have some words of wisdom for us. But Jamesina...even wi’out that, ye ken that we should begin tae find ye a betrothed, do ye no? Ye dinnae have tae get marrit at once but at least ye should be taken.”

Jamesina got to her feet, unable to sit still in light of this new information. She paced back and forth in front of the bench that Fiona and Daividh were seated on. They watched her, tense, holding hands as they asked her to get into the very situation that had resulted in so much tragedy for Fiona.

“I cannae believe ye’d ask this of me.”

Fiona got to her feet, hands stretched out as if to envelope Jamesina in her arms. Jamesina avoided her sister with a shake of her head, moving away from her embrace. “No!” she cried, fiery curls bouncing in frustration. “I dinnae want tae get engaged just tae save me from some mythical unknown threat. Look what happened tae ye!” She flung her hands out at Fiona and was gratified when her sister blushed.

“No Jamesina, ye cannae think we mean tae push someone on ye. But...we thought mayhaps ye could go wi’ Daividh to see Aifric. She might have some advice for ye too. Och Jamesina, ye ken full well I want nothing but the best for ye. I ken what ye dream of—true love—and I want that for ye so much. Ye believe me do ye no?” Fiona peered anxiously into her face even as Jamesina tried to evade her. She was slightly taller than Fiona and so it was a bit more difficult to tuck her face in to hide it away.

“Fine. I shall go wi’ Daividh but only because I am curious. I shallnae agree tae a betrothal just because the two o’ ye think I’m in danger!”

Fiona shook her head solemnly. “We wouldnae do that t’ye. O’ course we wouldnae. I am disappointed that ye even thought for a moment that we would.”

Jamesina took a deep breath, trying to calm down. “I suppose...I misread ye. I apologize.”

Fiona took her arm and drew her in. “Dinnae apologize. I ken it’s a hard time and ye’ve been so helpful wi’ the children and running the keep while we deal wi’ the mines...ye mun’ be exhausted.”

Jamesina sighed. “Aye, I am rather tired.”

Fiona laughed softly into her soft curls. “Aye weel, the solstice festival’s coming up. Ye take the girls up tae Drumacree and have a great time. I shall do my duty for once and look after the keep.”

They released each other, smiling fondly into each other’s eyes. “Oh, will ye? Does that mean ye’re packing the twins away in the carriage too, tae come wi’ us?”

Fiona laughed. “No, I promise ye. Ye shallnae have tae answer any cries for three whole days. Silvia and I shall manage here just fine. Aboot time she started earning her keep as a nanny.”

Jamesina’s smile turned wistful. “I think I shall miss them, though. Who’ll wake me in the morn by climbing on my face?”

“I think ùna would be happy tae do it,” Fiona replied, grinning widely before leaning closer. “I think she misses being the youngest.”

All three of them laughed as harmony was restored. After some discussion, it was decided that they would leave three days hence.

“Also, the other girls dinnae have tae ken wha’s afoot. It will just worry them for nothing,” Jamesina said.

Daividh looked grim. “Aye, but we shall travel wi’ armed men. They’re bound tae wonder why.”

“We shall simply say that ye’re o’erprotective o’ us. They can understand tha’. They havenae forgotten wha’ happened tae Fiona either.”

Daividh nodded. “Aye alrigh’. I shall trust yer judgment.”

* * *

Delwyn arrived in the town of Drumacree in the middle of the solstice festival. He decided that it was a good place to stop and dig for information both on the mines and Neacel Hunter. His journey had so far been uneventful. He had managed to get supplies and headed into the Highlands without being accosted by highwaymen or eaten by wild animals. He’d made sure to report to the local English garrison whenever he was near one if only to see if they had some news on his quarry.

What he’d learned was that Scotsmen were not inclined to share their thoughts with Englishmen and while the soldiers were able to confirm to him that he was moving in the right direction to take him to the mines, they had not much to report on Neacel Hunter or Clan Douglass.

“I hear tell that Munro Douglass left the mine to his five daughters after his death. The new laird of Braenaird Keep is a Daividh Campbell, who runs the mines on behalf of his wife and her sisters,” the head of the garrison at Fort Worth had informed him. “If you’re going in search of a fortune, I’ve got to tell you, there are easier ways than trying to wrangle a Scottish lass for a wife.”

He’d grinned as if that was the greatest joke ever spoken and Delwyn gave him an uncomfortable smile in return. He had been aware that this would not be easy. He had, however, hoped that he would have more to go on by now than, “Scots are a stubborn nuisance. You’d best keep away from the lot of them.”

He walked among the citizens of Drumacree, buying a pigeon pie to munch on as he tried to decide how to proceed. As far as he could reckon, Braenaird Keep was less than a day’s ride on a fast horse from Drumacree, which made it likely that some of its inhabitants were present at the fair. If he could strike up a conversation with one of them, he might wrangle himself an invitation and thus, a means to find out more about the mines and Neacel’s whereabouts.

I don’t know if I can marry one of these people .

He looked at the women around him, recoiling from the roughly hewn woolen arisaids, the rough hands, lack of bonnets, or any attempt made to protect their skin from the sun. They were nothing like Englishwomen. They had none of the delicacy or daintiness of the English rose. How was he to reconcile himself to living with such a woman?

I cannot even take her back to London. How would she fit in? She would have no concept of civilization .

He snorted to himself and headed towards the nearest inn. He would need somewhere to stay while he was in the town. He was watching a pair of jugglers as he walked and so was startled to bump into someone. His hand shot out to stop them toppling over and he was shocked to find himself staring into a pair of large dark eyes.

“Delwyn. Ye’ve come at last,” the woman said. She was small in stature but with a large head of untidy pitch-black hair and matching eyes.

He was quite sure he’d never seen her before in his life.

“I beg your pardon?” he asked, letting go of her and stepping back as if she had the black plague.

She smiled. “Apologies. I am Aifric. I dinnae mean tae scare ye.”

Delwyn drew himself up to his full height, which was quite a bit taller than the woman. “I am not afraid.” He stared into the mysterious woman’s eyes. There was something there, as if she could see into him, through him. As if she knew all about him.

“ Indeed .” Her tone was very dry.

Delwyn’s eyes widened. It was as if she had heard what he had been thinking!

She patted him on the arm and then walked away. “The inn ye’re looking for is the other way,” she called in parting.

Delwyn’s mouth fell open as he watched the mysterious woman named Aifric disappear around a corner.

* * *

Jamesina straightened her gown before opening the door to the room she was sharing with Fenella, Maisie, and ùna. The twins were already downstairs in the taproom, no doubt causing trouble while ùna was asleep. Aileen had elected to stay at home with Fiona and the twins.

“ Bring me a red ribbon and a bolt of cloth and I shall be happy as a dove ,” she’d said to Jamesina.

Jamesina crossed the corridor of the Inn to knock on Daividh’s door and waited while he shuffled about inside. Soon, the door was pulled open and he peered out at her, his sark untucked in his breeches and his feet bare.

“Good morn,” she said with a grin.

He harrumphed at her, never one to be cheerful before his breakfast.

“I’ve left ùna asleep in our chambers. I’m going doon tae see aboot breakfast. Shall I get ye anything?”

He scratched at his chestnut hair, causing it to fall over his eyes as he thought. “Aye. Bring me something. I shall watch for ùna. Are the men up yet? D’ye ken?”

She shook her head. “I shall check on my way doon.”

Daividh nodded. “Aye, alrigh’.” He made to close the door again and she walked away, shaking her head and smiling. Sleepy as he looked, she had no doubt he would keep a sharp ear out, should ùna stir before she got back. Their youngest sibling was quite capable of getting lost in her excitement to see everything and it was important that someone keep her in sight at all times. Jamesina quickened her step, eager to get back, and as she rounded the curved stairwell, she bumped into something hard and unyielding.

She uttered a squawk of surprise, hands flung out to catch herself as she stumbled backward. Her fall was arrested by what felt like an iron band around her waist. As she opened her eyes she looked up into the brightest blue eyes she’d ever seen. It was a man who held her and had stopped her falling. A man whose eyes were as bright as the sky right in the middle of a sunny day. Contrasted with his inky dark hair and pale skin, he appeared as unreal as one of the fairies she liked reading about.

“Oh…” she whispered. Her eyes drifted down to the chest at her eye level. Her hands rested there. It was a strong chest. She quickly pulled her hands away as if burned.

“My apologies.” His voice sounded annoyed and harried, his English accent clipped as he stared down at the woman in his arms. She was looking up at him with wide, soft, almost doe-like eyes. He found himself in danger of getting lost in those eyes. He frowned and set her away from him.

“’Tis quite alright,” Jamesina said.

The man quickly stepped back.

Jamesina tried to settle her gown, cheeks flushed and hands trembling. She was flustered and doing a poor job of hiding it.

“Are you alright?” the man asked, peering closer at her.

She kept her lashes down, trying to hide her reactions from him. “I’m fine. Sorry, I dinnae see ye there.”

The man sighed and his annoyance seemingly faded.

Delwyn was always quick-witted and he could not remember the last time he lost his words, like he did now. “It seems to be my curse today,” he said after a small pause. He stepped aside, hands clasped behind his back, to let her pass.

She hesitated a moment, wanting to say something else to him but failing to come up with anything. Instead, she nodded in as friendly a manner as she could manage while she stepped past him. She was quite sad that the staircase continued to curve for as she looked back, he was no longer in sight. Her hand crept up to rest on her bosom.

“Oh my...what a handsome man,” she breathed, blinking up at the empty staircase.