Jetta woke with a start and sat up sharply in bed, her eyes darting around for the source of the sound that had roused her from sleep. For a moment she was confused and befuddled, not recognizing the strange room she was in. Certainly, it wasn't her bedchamber at Fitton. That room was much larger, the bed having a canopy and curtains you could use to close out light and sound. This room was--
At the lodge, Jetta realized suddenly, her mind clearing as she swung her feet over the side of the bed and they landed on the pallet still lying beside it. The pallet her husband usually slept on. Or had, she supposed, since he'd left for Buchanan and would not be sleeping there this night. She'd have the room all to herself, Jetta thought, and glanced around as the last of her confusion drifted away.
She'd stayed below with Mavis while the woman cooked the papyns, but once they'd eaten the delicious eggs in a rich sauce, Jetta had suddenly found herself exhausted. So much so, she hadn't even argued when Mavis had suggested she have a little lie down and rest a bit. The woman had seen her up here and tucked her in, and that was the last thing Jetta recalled. She couldn't have slept too, too long though, Jetta decided as she noted the bright sunlight streaming through the open shutters at the window.
"He was poisoned I tell ye!"
Frowning at the shouted words from outside, Jetta pushed herself off the bed and moved to the window to peer out. Her eyes widened as she looked down at the half a dozen or so men gathered near the tree by the stables. They were standing around something lying at the base of the tree where Mavis had dumped the stew. All of them were now talking at the same time so that Jetta couldn't tell what was being said anymore.
"What the devil's going on?"
Jetta's gaze shifted quickly to a man who had just come out of the lodge. At first she was sure it was Aulay. His height, size, stride, even his voice were so similar to her husband's that she was sure it was him, but then she noted the gray streaks in the man's hair and decided it must be the Uncle Acair that Aulay had assured them he'd send out to stay with them while he was at Buchanan. She knew she was right when Mavis suddenly hurried out of the lodge and rushed toward the man, crying, "What is it, Acair? What's amiss?"
Jetta's eyebrows widened slightly as she watched the maid. Mavis wasn't looking her usual self. Her clothes were a bit awry, her face flushed, and the way she was looking at and addressing Aulay's uncle was . . . well, frankly it was far more like he was a beau than a lord. The way Acair was looking at Mavis told a story of its own too. The two of them were obviously lovers, Jetta decided as Acair broke away from the men and moved to intercept Mavis. Taking her arm, he gently ushered her back toward the cottage, murmuring in her ear as he did and bringing a look of dismay to her face.
Jetta watched until they disappeared inside again, and then shifted her gaze back to the men by the tree. Several of them had moved away now and she could see one was sitting on the ground, holding what appeared to be a dead dog in his lap. He was rocking it back and forth, his face full of sorrow.
Frowning, Jetta started to withdraw from the window, intending to go below and find out what was going on, but then a splash of color in the trees caught her eye. Pausing, she searched the woods beyond the stables and could have sworn she saw someone moving away through the woods. Someone in colorful clothing and moving swiftly. That was all she saw though before whoever it was moved completely out of sight.
One of the men, Jetta told herself. Perhaps looking for a spot to relieve himself or a place to bury the dog, she thought as she headed for the door. Although none of the other men were wearing bright colors, Jetta considered as she opened the door and stepped out onto the landing.
"Oh, lass, I was just coming to check on ye. I was afraid all the foofaraw may have woken ye."
Jetta paused and smiled with concern at Mavis as the older woman rushed toward her from the stairs. "What happened?"
"Oh, 'tis an awful thing. Young Robbie's dog was poisoned," she said unhappily, catching her arm, and urging her back the way she'd come. "Poor thing. He was a good dog too. All the lads liked him. But he ate that burned stew I threw out and . . ." She shook her head unhappily. "There must have been some kind o' poisonous plant at the base o' the tree where I threw out the stew and he ate some o' it along with the stew. 'Tis the only thing I can think could ha'e happened. But the poor beast is dead."
"Oh no," Jetta said with dismay, despite having seen the dead dog. Somehow hearing what had happened was worse than seeing the dog lying in the man's lap. In truth, he'd looked as if he could have been sleeping when she'd seen him. But hearing about it, well, she recalled how upset she'd been when her own dog, Jezebel, had died and--
"Aye, I'm afraid so, and I feel just awful about it. Had I tossed the stew somewhere else, or . . ." She shook her head. "Poor beast. He really was a good dog."
Deciding now was not the time to talk about her having another memory returned to her, Jetta merely nodded and allowed herself to be drawn back into the bedchamber. But this new memory reminded her that she'd had another memory when she'd first woken up. Of her bedroom back at . . . damn, where had it been? She was sure a name had come to her as she'd thought of her bedchamber at home. Now all that remained was a vague idea of a curtained bed or something, and she couldn't recall the name that had come to her mind with the image. The memory had faded like the remnants of a dream from her mind.
"Poor beast," Mavis murmured again as she closed the door behind them. "Come along, the plaid ye were wearing should be dry by now. Let's get it on ye so ye can go below. Acair's curious to speak with ye now ye're awake."
"That was Uncle Acair I saw outside, then?" Jetta asked, pleased that she'd guessed right.
"Aye. He and the boys arrived just after ye fell asleep. The laird sent them to guard us until he can return," Mavis explained as she felt the plaid she'd laid over a chair by the fire, and--apparently finding it dry--retrieved it and laid it out on the floor to begin putting pleats into the material.
Jetta crossed the room to join her. "Let me do that, Mavis. I need to learn how."
"So, there still is no news on a ship that sank?" Aulay asked with a frown. This was the first chance he'd got to ask his brother what he and Geordie had learned while out looking for news of the ship Jetta had been on. He hadn't felt right about asking Geordie when he'd gone to see him in the room where Rory was tending Katie. His brother had been so pale and upset over the maid, he'd let the matter go and asked Conran to follow him below to talk to him instead. This, however, was not the news he'd hoped to get from his brother, Aulay thought, as he watched Conran shake his head.
"Nay. I did no' learn anything more than Geordie and Alick did the first time. Neither did Geordie," he added, and then explained, "We met on the ride back and talked. We rode together the last part o' the way until we encountered Katie." Mouth tightening, he added, "I should ne'er ha'e taken the lead. I should have ridden behind them to watch their backs."
"Ye could no' ha'e kenned that was going to happen," Aulay said firmly. "And yer being behind them probably would no' ha'e changed anything."
"Mayhap," Conran said unhappily, and then breathed out a sigh and said, "Anyway, neither Geordie nor I found even a whisper o' news about a ship that sank in that storm three weeks ago. Well, almost five weeks now," he said grimly. "It just did no' happen."
"Well, Jetta had to come from somewhere," Aulay growled with frustration.
"Aye," Conran agreed and then asked, "Ye're sure it was the mast o' a ship she was strapped to?"
"Aye. The crow's nest was mostly still intact, and the sail still attached. It was definitely a mast," he assured him.
"What the devil happened to the ship, then?" Conran was beginning to sound frustrated too.
Aulay scowled, but then stilled.
"What?" Conran asked at once. "Have ye an idea?"
Aulay was silent for a minute, considering the thought that had just popped into his head. Finally, he nodded. "I'm thinkin' mayhap the ship did no' sink."
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Conran raised his eyebrows at the suggestion. "So 'twas no' a mast ye found her tied to?"
"Aye, it was," Aulay assured him.
"Well then--"
"Da told me once about a ship he traveled on, and a storm that came on so fast and rough the wind snapped the mast just below the crow's nest ere they could lower the sails."
Conran considered that briefly. "And ye're thinking mayhap the same thing happened here, only much lower on the mast?"
"Aye," Aulay growled. "The mast could have had a weakness at the base that snapped when the storm struck."
"Taking Jetta with it," Conran said slowly.
"But leaving the ship afloat," Aulay finished grimly.
"We did hear mention o' a ship or two taking damage in the storm and limping into one port or another fer repairs," Conran told him.
"Had any lost their masts?" he asked sharply.
Conran shook his head. "I do no' ken. I did no' ask what kind o' damage. We were looking for a boat we'd thought had sunk."
Aulay cursed.
"We can ride out again and ask about ships with damage," Conran offered.
"Nay. Ye can't," he said abruptly. "I need ye here to sit with Geordie."
When Conran's eyebrows rose, Aulay frowned and considered the situation briefly. He hadn't yet had a chance to talk to the men who were on the wall when Katie took the arrow. By the time he got back to Buchanan, sent Uncle Acair back to the lodge with some men, and talked to Geordie, the men who had been on the wall had all finished their shift. But if they'd seen anything of import, they'd have told Acair, so he didn't expect to learn much from them anyway. And he had men out searching the woods, but wasn't holding out much hope there either. As far as he could tell, his only hope of catching Katie's attacker was if they tried again to kill her.
"To comfort Geordie, or protect Kate?" Conran asked finally, when Aulay remained lost in his thoughts.
Aulay considered explaining his thinking, but in the end, merely said, "Both."
"So ye do think Kate's attacker may try again," Conran said with a frown. "Does Geordie know?"
"Nay." Aulay saw no reason to worry Geordie with this added issue. He was concerned enough about the lass. "I do no' want him or anyone else to ken ye're guarding them. That way, should Geordie leave the room to visit the garderobe, Kate's attacker will think the way clear to make another attempt."
"How are we to manage me guarding them without Geordie knowing?" Conran asked with a frown.
"The passages," Aulay said. "Ye'll ride out on a supposed chore for me, and take the passages back in. Ye can watch the room from there."
"Ahhh," Conran said with sudden understanding. "That would be why ye had Katie moved to Saidh's old room when ye got back this morn. The guest chamber she was in could no' be reached by the tunnels."
"Aye."
"What if Katie dies ere another attempt is made?" Conran asked. "Rory has no' held out much hope o' her recovering. Whoever shot the arrow at her may just be waiting to see if she dies from her injuries from the first attempt."
Aulay scowled over that. There was a good possibility that might happen. And then once the lass died, another attempt would be unnecessary and they would never find out who had killed her. He didn't like that thought at all. Young Katie deserved justice.
"I'll have Rory suggest she's improving," Aulay said, thinking he'd have to have him say it in the Great Hall in front of a crowd of their people. He'd ask how the lass was, and Rory could say she was much stronger than expected and improving.
"That should work," Conran said with a nod. "Whoever shot her with the arrow is more likely to make a second attempt if they think she is getting better." Conran picked up his ale and took a long swallow. Setting his drink down then, he nodded again and said, "Verra well. I'll head out right away."
Aulay shook his head. "'Tis nearly the sup. Ye'd never set out on a journey this late in the day. Ye can set out in the morn."
Conran frowned and shook his head. "I do no' like the idea o' leaving Geordie and Katie unprotected all night. I'll say I'm retiring early to rest up for my trip tomorrow, and then slip into the passage from me room tonight. Then I'll ride out in the morn and slip back through the passages to continue watching the room."
Aulay shook his head at once. Conran couldn't watch all night and tomorrow too. "I'll watch the room tonight, so ye can rest up to watch tomorrow."
"Truly?" Conran asked with surprise.
Aulay arched his eyebrows. "Ye need no' sound so surprised. I do do things around here too."
"Well, aye, usually," he agreed. "But this will leave you missing out on rest, fer I ken ye'll no' be left to sleep the morn away tomorrow. Half the population o' Buchanan seems ready to pester you with complaints now ye're back after having been away this past month."
"Aye," Aulay said dryly. It was part of the reason it had taken him so long to get his uncle off on his way to the lodge and then to get up to see Geordie. He'd been constantly stopped by people with one problem or another he needed to sort out for them. In fact, Aulay was rather amazed he'd managed to have this conversation with Conran without interruption. As if he'd jinxed himself with the thought, the keep doors opened, and the stable master entered, looked around, spotted him at the table and hurried toward them.
"Do no' worry about me and sleep," Aulay said finally as he got to his feet. "I had four weeks o' little but sleep. I'll survive a night or two without."
Leaving Conran at the table, he walked to meet the stable master and see what was wrong.
Chapter 7
Aulay was in a deep slumber when a soft knock at the door stirred him. Blinking sleepily, he glanced toward the window to see the weak early morning light seeping through. The sun wasn't even fully up, he noted with a frown and sat up in the bed, finding it odd to be in one after nearly five weeks on the pallet on the floor that he'd been calling bed since Jetta's arrival in his life. Actually, he recalled suddenly, he hadn't really slept in this one. At least, not for long. Conran had only relieved him from watching Geordie and Katie moments ago from what he could tell. By his guess, he'd got perhaps ten minutes of sleep.
Groaning at the thought, Aulay climbed from the bed and crossed the room in his bed shirt, thinking Jetta would probably tease him did she see him in it. He followed the thought with a shake of the head meant to remove thoughts of his wee counterfeit wife.
Aulay had been doing his best not to think of Jetta since leaving the lodge. But that was something he was finding ridiculously hard to do. From the moment he'd ridden away from the lodge, everything had seemed to remind him of her. His horse's tail, he'd noted, was the same jet black as her hair. The grass under the bright sunlight was the same sparkling green as her eyes. The fluffy white clouds filling the sky overhead after the storm had made him think of her porcelain skin . . . and that had just been during the first few minutes of his journey back. It had continued all the way here and still continued.
When he'd had Rory take him to see Katie on his arrival here, the dark-haired maid lying pale and still in the bed had reminded Aulay of Jetta when she'd still been unconscious. The maid was petite like her, and had the same dark hair as well. Knowing she probably didn't look all that much like Jetta, and that it was just his infatuated mind seeing Jetta everywhere, Aulay had then gone below to talk to his uncle and find out what they'd learned about the attack. Servants had immediately brought pastries for him to break his fast with and he'd thought that, as nice as Mavis's pastries had been, Cook's were better and he should take some back for Jetta when he returned.
Truly, he did not seem able to have a single thought enter his head without it somehow leading to thoughts of Jetta. That realization had led Aulay to acknowledging that he was never going to break this attraction he had for her. Knowing that, he'd also quite plainly seen his future. Jetta would somehow find out they were not married and leave him, and he would be a broken man. It was that simple. Aulay had thought he was broken after the injury he
took and Adaira's leaving him, but suspected that would be nothing next to his losing Jetta. This loss, he feared, was one he would not recover from.
Made irritable by the thought, he pulled his door open and scowled at the knocker. When Aulay realized it was Alick, his scowl merely deepened. "Where the devil ha'e you been?"
Eyes widening with surprise, his younger brother frowned. "Did Rory no' tell ye? I went to see Saidh and Greer."
"Aye, he told me," Aulay admitted. "But that was two weeks ago. What the devil took ye so long?"
"They were away when I arrived at MacDonnell," he explained. "Off visiting Niels and Edith on their way north. So I rested overnight at MacDonnell and then followed them to Drummond. But by the time I arrived, they'd left Drummond for Carmichael, to see Dougall and Murine. Well," he said with apparent exasperation. "O' course, Edith insisted I rest the night before continuing on and . . ."
Aulay listened absently to his brother's long, drawn-out explanation, or perhaps he didn't really listen at all. Mostly he was wondering to himself if Jetta would like Edith, Murine, Jo and Saidh. His sister was thick as thieves with her friends, which was a good thing since two of them were now married to two of his brothers. But he suspected Jetta would like them. She'd probably like their friend Jo, too, and fit in easily with the group of women. And they, of course, would love her, he decided. She was clever and sweet with a wonderful sense of humor. How could they help but love her?
They couldn't, Aulay decided firmly and returned his attention to his brother as he concluded, "We finally caught up with them as they returned home to MacDonnell, but the minute I finished explaining about Jetta, Saidh insisted on heading here. O' course, she first had to pack fresh clothes and Greer had to take care o' some business, so we did no' leave right away, but, finally, here we are," Alick finished.
"Here ye are," Aulay agreed dryly. "But why are ye knocking on me door so early in the morning?"