"Stop watching me and eat yer soup," Aulay ordered suddenly and Jetta realized she had stopped eating to gape at him.
Grinning, she turned her attention back to her soup, but then shook her head. "I cannot eat another spoonful. I am done."
"Ye need to eat more than that, lass," Aulay said with a frown. "Ye're far too skinny and need to build yer strength back up."
Jetta hunched her shoulders a little self-consciously. She had gasped aloud when Mavis had helped her out of her borrowed sleeping gown to get in the bath and she'd first seen herself naked. Truly, other than her breasts, she was all bones and tightly stretched skin. It hadn't looked very attractive and had made her wonder what had moved Aulay to kiss her the way he had that morning. She'd decided then that theirs must be a love match, for she was sure only love could move someone to want to kiss and caress her as he had when she looked like a walking skeleton.
"Mayhap ye'll feel like having something else later," Aulay said solemnly when she simply stared at the remains of her cooling soup. She'd managed almost half of it, but just couldn't stomach any more.
Smiling with relief, she lifted her head and nodded. "Mayhap."
Aulay eyed her for a minute and then began to set the remains of their meal back on the tray. "Would ye like to play chess or something then? Or would ye rather rest?"
"Chess please," Jetta said at once and began to help him clear the food from the table. Within moments they had finished the task. Aulay then retrieved a finely carved chess game from one of the chests against the wall and they took a moment to set it up on the table.
"'Tis beautiful," Jetta murmured, pausing to examine a knight. The horse's head was so detailed it almost looked real.
"Aye," Aulay said in a soft rumble, examining his own knight. "Me brother Ewan carved them years ago as a gift to me parents."
"Ewan?" she asked curiously. "Is he here too?"
"Nay." Aulay set the horse's head on the board. "He is dead."
"He was the eighth brother and the reason there are only seven when there were eight," she murmured, remembering what he and Rory had said earlier.
"Aye. But actually, Ewan was the second brother, not the eighth," Aulay corrected her. "He was me twin, born right after me."
"Really?" she asked curiously. "Then you were close?"
"Close as two brothers can be," he said solemnly.
Jetta hesitated, but then asked, "How did he die?"
"In battle." His voice was low, and there was something in his expression that told her that talking about Ewan still pained him terribly. Letting that topic go, she asked, "So you are the older twin . . . and laird?"
Aulay nodded, and continued to set out pieces.
"Oh." Jetta glanced toward the window, but all she could see were trees. Turning her gaze back to her husband, she watched him, and then cleared her throat and said tentatively, "Husband?"
"Aye?" he said absently.
"Where exactly are we?" she asked apologetically.
Aulay jerked a blank gaze up to hers.
Grimacing, she pointed out, "I do not remember anything. Not even which castle I am lady of."
"Buchanan." The word was almost a growl. "I am clan chief and laird o' Buchanan." Clearing his throat, he added, "However, that is no' where we are at the moment. We are in me hunting lodge. I brought ye here after we fished ye out o' the water . . . to heal."
Jetta nodded. She supposed that explained why it was so quiet here. Which, when she thought about it, was probably why he'd brought her here to heal. Castles were rarely quiet.
"Buchanan," she breathed and turned her attention to setting out the rest of her own pieces as she murmured, "Jetta Buchanan. Lady Jetta Buchanan. Lady Buchanan."
Finishing with her pieces, she raised her head, and paused when she saw that Aulay hadn't returned to arranging his own pieces, but was just staring at her.
"Is there something amiss, my lord husband?" she asked uncertainly.
He opened his mouth, hesitated, and then closed his mouth again and returned to setting up his men with a shake of the head. "Nay. The board is set. Yer move first, lass."
Nodding, Jetta surveyed the board, and then picked up one of her pawns and moved it.
"Ye ken how to play," Aulay commented after they'd both made several moves.
"Aye." She smiled at him with a combination of pride and relief. "Apparently I have not forgotten everything."
She watched him move his bishop, moved her knight and then asked, "What is your sister like?"
Aulay glanced to her with surprise. "Saidh?"
"Is that her name?" Jetta asked.
"Aye." He watched her move her knight again and contemplated the board as he asked, "Why do ye ask?"
Jetta shrugged. "I find it hard to imagine having so many brothers and suspect she was either spoiled rotten by the lot of you, or--" She paused briefly to raise her eyebrows when he burst out laughing.
"It would definitely be the or, lass," he assured her with amusement. "Saidh is no' spoiled."
"Nay?" she asked with a smile.
"Nay," Aulay said firmly. "She's a fighter. She had to be to survive the lot o' us harassing her through the years."
Jetta smiled at the affection she heard in his voice, and asked, "How old is she?"
"I was eleven when she was born," Aulay announced. "She is twenty-two or-three now."
"So, a year or two younger than me," Jetta murmured and then froze and lifted a shocked face to him. "I remember my age!"
Aulay's eyes widened. "Do ye remember yer birthday?"
Jetta paused to think, scanning her mind briefly. It had to be in there somewhere. She knew it. If she remembered her age, her birthday had to be in her memory too. If she could just--
"Lass?" Aulay said solemnly.
Jetta lifted her head and looked at him with confusion. "Aye. What?"
"Ye're rubbing yer forehead. Is it starting to pain ye?" he asked quietly.
Jetta frowned. Actually, her head was pounding. It had come on suddenly, and was quickly getting worse, but she really wanted to remember--
Aulay watched Jetta closely, noting the deepening lines of pain on her face as she tried to recall the date of her birth. He was about to insist she stop trying, when she suddenly swayed in her seat. He leapt up just in time to catch her as she started to fall out of her chair.
Mouth tight, he carried her to the bed, laid her in it and then moved to the door and opened it to bellow for Rory.
"What's happened?" his brother asked a moment later as he stepped off the stairs and hurried toward him.
"She remembered how old she is," Aulay announced, turning back into the room and leading the way to the bed. "But then she tried to remember her birthday and--" Aulay shook his head as they reached the bed. "The effort seemed to bring on terrible pain, and then she just collapsed."
Rory bent to lift Jetta's eyelids and checked her eyes. He then leaned his head down to listen to her heart. "How was she prior to that?"