"Me neither," Edith and Jo said at the same time.
Jetta frowned with dissatisfaction at that and peered back to the chests as she thought aloud, "It must have been a long break for me to pack every last gown I owned." She considered that briefly, and then glanced to the two chests that had been in the room since her waking there and her frown deepened as she added, "And why were Aulay's chests not lost as well?"
"Oh, those chests have been here since they rebuilt the lodge," Murine said easily.
"Rebuilt it?" Jetta asked, and then gave her head a shake as she recalled Aulay telling her about the fire. "Oh, yes, the first one burned down while Dougall was courting you."
"Aye. Compliments o' me cousin and half brother," Murine said dryly, and then shook her own head. "Dougall and I offered to pay fer the new lodge to be built, but Aulay would no' hear o' it." Clucking her tongue with something like exasperation, she then added, "Anyway, those chests have been here since the day the lodge was finished. Aulay kept spare plaids and such in them so he need no' drag a lot of cloth and weapons with him when he came to the lodge."
Jetta nodded, but asked, "Why did I not do the same?"
The women all exchanged somewhat panicked gazes, and then turned to the door with relief when Saidh rushed in saying, "The water is almost boiled, but I thought while we waited we could go through the dresses in the chests . . . in case whatever you choose to wear needs airing to let out any wrinkles."
The women seized on the suggestion like it was a bit of water in the desert, all of them talking and moving at once. Jetta soon found her questions pushed from her mind as the women set upon the chests and began lifting out gown after gown for her consideration.
Chapter 9
"I take it from yer expression that talking to the men on the wall was no' very helpful," Rory commented.
Aulay shook his head. "Nay. No' one o' them saw anything o' use," he admitted as he dropped to sit at the trestle table next to his brother.
"They did no' see anything at all?" Rory asked with a frown.
Aulay shrugged. "The archer must have been in the cover o' the woods. Not one o' them realized anything was amiss until Geordie reached back to catch the lass as she started to fall off his mount and one o' them noted the arrow sticking out o' her back."
"Damn," Rory murmured.
"Aye," Aulay agreed grimly despite it being exactly what he'd expected. While he had feared he wouldn't learn anything useful, there had still been that little bit of hope that he might. Sighing, he caught the eye of a nearby maid, and gestured to his brother's ale and then himself, letting her know he wanted some. As the maid nodded and hurried away, he added, "And I sent the men out again to search the woods surrounding the castle, but in a wider area this time. Still nothing. Whoever it was left nothing behind to hint at who they might be."
Rory frowned. "So we have no idea who may have shot the arrow?"
"No idea at all, and no real way to find out unless they make a second attempt," Aulay admitted.
"I presume that's why Conran is up in the passage outside Katie's room?" Rory asked. "In case a second attempt is made?"
Aulay glanced at him sharply. "How did ye ken he was there?"
"I heard him," Rory said dryly. "And I heard who I presume was you last night. The two o' ye tromp around like bulls."
Grimacing, Aulay nodded. "Good to ken. I'll warn him to be quieter, and try to be quieter myself."
"That is probably for the best," Rory said mildly.
"Aye, well, do no' mention his being there to anyone," Aulay murmured. "As far as everyone here kens I sent Conran out on a chore."
"Ye're actually hoping whoever it is makes a second attempt," Rory said solemnly.
"'Tis the only way I can think to catch them and give Katie and Geordie some justice," Aulay admitted. "If whoever shot her does no' make a second attempt, I've no idea where to even start looking."
Rory nodded. "I'll make sure there is no reason for anyone to enter the room. No' even a maid. If anyone enters, 'twill no' be fer a good purpose."
"Good," Aulay grunted, and then asked, "How is the lass?"
Rory shook his head silently.
Taking that to mean the lass was alive, but that his brother didn't expect her to remain so for long, Aulay rubbed one hand wearily over the back of his neck. He'd intended to ask the question and instruct Rory to say the girl was healing well at the sup last night. Unfortunately, he'd forgotten until it was too late. By the time he'd recalled talking about that with Conran, Aulay had already been installed in the passage outside the room where Katie lay. Grimacing, he said, "Next time I ask that will be in front o' a lot o' people. When I do, lie and say she is recovering surprisingly well and ye expect her to be up and about soon."
Rory didn't ask for an explanation. Apparently he understood why Aulay said that, because he merely nodded.
Aulay asked next, "How is Geordie?"
"Stuck to her bedside and praying," Rory said solemnly, and then added, "He's no' going to take it well when she finally goes."
"I'll ha'e to think o' something to get his mind off o' her when she passes," Aulay said quietly.
"Mayhap we'll get lucky and Jetta will turn out to have three or four sisters in need o' rescuing," Rory said dryly and when Aulay glanced to him in question, he shrugged and pointed out, "Saidh has run out o' friends in need o' rescuing, yet we still have three brothers in need o' brides."
"Jetta has at least one sister," Aulay informed him. "She recalled that after ye left fer Buchanan. And we ha'e four brothers in need o' brides, no' three," Aulay corrected him.
"I was considering you already attached thanks to Jetta's arrival," Rory said with amusement.
"So was I," Aulay said dryly. "Ye're leaving yerself out."
"Oh." His eyes widened. "Well, I never . . . I mean, I do no' need . . ." Pausing, he frowned and then changed the subject. "Speaking o' Jetta, Saidh and the girls have arrived at the lodge and are bringing her back today."
"What?" Aulay stared at him with surprise.
Rory nodded. "Uncle Acair sent one o' the men ahead with the news so Cook could prepare for the added company for the evening repast. The soldier arrived while ye were talking to the men who were standing guard when Katie was shot, so he spoke to me. He said the women are presently bathing, and preparing Jetta, but they intend to bring her back in time for the sup."
"Damn," Aulay breathed. While he wanted her there at his side, and had even known that Saidh planned to bring her, now that Jetta's arrival was imminent, every single problem that her presence at Buchanan could cause was marching across his mind. Problems like the possibility that someone would tell her they weren't married.
"What the devil is Saidh thinking bringing her here?" he said with dismay. "She kens the lass thinks me her husband."
"Aye, well, that may be what she's thinking of," Rory said mildly. "If Jetta arrives and--in front of witnesses here--greets ye by calling ye husband and ye call her wife, or even if ye do no' call her wife, but do no' deny being her husband, ye'll be handfasted, brother. As good as married in the eyes o' the law."
Aulay blinked as the words reverberated in his head and he softly breathed, "Damn."
He hadn't thought of that. Just her greeting him could seal her fate and make her his wife by law. He could keep her. They would be considered by both church and state to be married by consent. A ceremony and priest weren't even needed.
The thought was an enticing one. Handfasted to Jetta. To have her as his wife for real. He'd be able to bed her and . . .
And if she ever found out that she hadn't really been married to him in the first place, but had basically been tricked into handfasting to him . . . The thought made him frown and shake his head.
"Why not?" Rory asked. "Ye obviously like the lass."
"Aye," Aulay agreed solemnly.
"And am I right in guessing ye would welcome her being yer wife fer real?"
Aulay peered out over the nearly
empty Great Hall. There were only a few people around, a handful of men on break seated at the far end of the trestle tables, a couple maids cleaning and the lass bringing him his ale. His gaze caught on the woman briefly, something about her reminding him of Jetta. He couldn't say what. Her face was smudged with dirt and he couldn't see her hair--it was secured on her head and covered with a kerchief--and she certainly didn't walk like Jetta. This woman's stride was confident and quick, while Jetta tended to walk slowly and cautiously if she walked at all. She hadn't walked much yet and wouldn't until she'd regained more strength.
Deciding it was just another case of everything reminding him of Jetta, Aulay turned his attention back to his brother and nodded silently. Aye, he'd welcome Jetta being his wife for real. She was . . . well, he'd never thought he'd be lucky enough to find a woman who would marry him willingly. Actually, the idea of a willing woman was so attractive he probably would have made do with nearly any woman who agreed, but Jetta . . . Well, with her it wouldn't be making do at all. She was smart, sweet, funny, kind, passionate, beautiful . . . And she genuinely seemed to like and want him. She wasn't repulsed by his scar at all. She was perfect, and he wished with all his heart that she truly was his wife. But . . .