VISIT TO A SISTER
Alina leaned back against the leather seat of the coach and closed her eyes. She was weary.
Opposite her, Chrissie was working on a tapestry. She slit her eyes, watching the girl through her lashes. Feigning sleep was one way to give her aching head and ragged nerves respite from the young woman's happy chatter. Much as she loved Chrissie, she was tense and tired, and there was only so much cheerful enthusiasm she could find the energy to face.
The coach sped smoothly along the cobbled track across the moors. The route through the forest was doubtless faster, but Alina preferred to take the coach. With an escort of five armed men, it felt safer. It also meant she could sleep and ease her aching heart.
What was Duncan doing now? The thought made her shiver. It was darkening fast, the day almost night by now. She was sure he had reached the fortress of Tallhill – she knew it was two day's ride away, and he had left the previous morning. She closed her eyes, wishing she knew where he was and that he was unhurt.
At that moment, the coach went over a sharp bump.
“Oh!” Chrissie said, startled. She jumped up and then covered her mouth with her hand as Alina moaned. “Sorry, Alina,” she said breathlessly. “I didn't mean to shout. I'm sorry to wake you.”
“I was awake,” Alina said thinly, the sound boring through her sore skull. “Just feeling a bit ill. Where are we? Can you see?”
Chrissie pulled back the canvas from the window, peering out. “We're on the edge of woodlands,” she said. “Or it seems so. It's very dark!”
“Are we heading to the left? Apologies. Your right,” she added, smiling. Chrissie sat opposite her and had seemed momentarily confused. She craned to see past the canvas, and then nodded.
“Yes.”
“Oh. Good.” Alina sighed. “Almost there.”
Chrissie leaned back, looking pleased. “Will Amabel still be awake, think you?”
“I think so,” Alina said hopefully. “It cannot be very late.”
“Well,” Chrissie drew in a breath. “We started out at eight of the clock this morning. When last I asked Fearrick through the window, he said it was three of the clock,” she said happily. “That means that it must be almost nine of the clock now, if I am right, it was six whole hours ago.”
Alina closed her eyes. “Well, then,” she said quietly. “We should be there very soon indeed. And Amabel is doubtless still wide awake.”
“Good,” Chrissie smiled contentedly. “I am so excited to see her again!”
Alina nodded. She smiled, though even that felt like an effort. She felt drained, as if half of her was outside herself, riding over mist dark moorland alongside Duncan.
As if to prove them right, the carriage reached a slight incline and steadily slowed. As Alina was about to ask Chrissie to look out of the window once more, it stopped.
“We're of Lochlann!” Fergal called in answer to some shouted challenge. “Lady Amabel's kin.”
Alina leaned back, relief flowing through her. They had arrived! They were at Dunkeld.
After a few minutes of brisk discussion, most of which was too low and urgent to hear from inside the coach, the gate was opened. Their coach rolled through.
“I'm so excited!” Chrissie gushed. Alina opened her eyes and smiled wearily. She patted the younger woman's hand.
“As am I.”
She leaned back and swallowed hard. Now that they were here, the thought of seeing Amabel flooded her with excitement. She had not dwelt on it during the ride, her worries for Duncan possessing her. Now they were here, she realized her heart was thudding and her mouth was dry.
Amabel. She closed her eyes. She had not seen her sister for six months. Not since she left after her marriage, moving to her husband's home at Dunkeld. She thought of Amabel's face, calling it to mind. Long, flossy red hair. Wide green eyes. A short nose and high cheekbones, slightly pointed chin.
Amabel, she thought, excitedly. Sister.
She heard something at the door and Fergal, the white-haired armorer, appeared. “Can I help ye down, milady?” he asked, bowing. Alina nodded. She got to her feet, noticing with some alarm how weak and tired she was. If she felt that, how much worse for Fergal, who had been riding all day and was more than twice her years?
“Thank you, Fergal.”
She stood on the cobbles before the castle walls, the air tugging fretfully at her hair, lifting the loose locks. She felt her chest tighten with anticipation and hugged her arms about her, shivering with cold and excitement. Dunkeld was smaller than Lochlann, a more modest place, grown out of a fortress more recently than their own home, but it was nonetheless imposing, especially in the dusk light, its turrets soaring out of the dark, some of the windows lit with fires within.
“Whee!” Chrissie said, jumping down from the coach. Alina smiled and heard Fergal laugh. Then Chrissie was running to her and together they walked up to the great hall. They were halfway there before they heard hesitant footfall, running.
“Alina! Sister? It is truly you?”
The voice that called out stopped Alina's heart, stunned with wonder.
“Amabel!”
Alina shouted it, throat ragged with wonder and delight. A warm presence cannoned into her and she felt herself enfolded in a firm embrace. She breathed in the scent of rosewater and irises and rocked back and forth, hugging her sister tight to herself.
“Amabel,” she said softly, stroking the fine red locks that lay in a careless tangle across her back. “My dear sister!”
She stepped back, resting her hands on Amabel's shoulders. She looked into that beloved, lovely face. Her eyes were wet and Amabel's own sparkled, tears caught on pale eyelashes.
“You silly dear,” Alina said fondly. “No need to cry.”
“You too, sister!” Amabel grinned happily. She laughed and held Alina in a crushing embrace. Alina giggled happily.
“My dearest sister. You'll flatten me,” she laughed, extricating herself from the hug. She stepped back, letting Amabel see behind her.
“I didn't come alone,” Alina said gently.
“Chrissie!” Amabel shouted. She ran for their shorter cousin and embraced her, stroking her soft curls.
“Ammie!” Chrissie was laughing, tears streaking her cheeks. She let out a whoop as Amabel lifted her off her feet, and then put her down. Alina laughed.
“It's wonderful to see you,” she said sincerely.
“You two!” Amabel said, staring from one of them to the other. Her hands on her narrow hips, she shook her head, grinning. “You didn't tell me to expect company!”
Alina bit her lip, stifling her grin. Her older sister was more house-proud even than she could imagine herself being. When they had shared a bedchamber, Amabel had a place for everything and was fastidiously careful.
“I am sorry, dear,” Alina said. She threaded her arm through Amabel's and Chrissie followed her example, taking Amabel's left. They walked, arms linked, to the hall. “It was not planned.”
“It wasn't?” Amabel laughed, staring. “Alina! What happened? You always plan months ahead! I know you.”
Alina let her head tip back with laughter. “You tease me,” she said gently, elbowing her older sister in the ribs. She was usually the composed, unruffled one, and yes, she did always plan carefully. Amabel was the more unpredictable of the two sisters. “Well, I wished to see you,” she said carefully. “And I had much to speak of.”
“Oh?” Amabel looked into her face, eyes widening and narrowing again as she seemed to gauge the recent signs of tension. “Well, then,” she said, expression clearing. “We should have a feast! I will have to prepare it for tomorrow. But tonight, you shall have to join me in the solar for dinner. You must be exhausted. And half starved,” she added.
“Yes!” Chrissie said eagerly. “We are.”
They all laughed.
Together, giggling, chattering, and as at ease as they had been six months ago, as if nothing had changed and no time passed between them, the three walked up the stairs.
In the solar, Alina leaned back a moment, looking up at the ceiling and composing her thoughts. She was more tired than she realized and her head swam with it. The thought of facing yet more company was not entirely exciting. She looked about the room. Lit with a cheerful glow from the vast fire in the corner, the walls paneled and the ceiling vaulted, it seemed more elaborate than the solar at Lochlann. The windows were a set of high arches opening on a black night – these alone were less ornate than the ones in Lochlann castle, the best feature of that austere place. She focused on the man who stood beside the fire, turning to face them.
He was tall, long dark hair tumbling to his shoulder-blades. Taller than Duncan, with broader shoulders, but nonetheless less stocky and more elegant. Broderick, Duncan's serious and gravely kind older brother.
“Broderick?” Amabel said lightly. “Look who's come to visit!”
He turned, firelight shining off rolling muscles and the shine of his hair. Alina, watching him, saw a face that twisted her insides with its resemblance to her beloved, nose slightly skew from a battle injury, eyes almost black and serious.
“Lady Alina,” he said. He looked pleased, a little smile playing about that serious mouth of his.
“Broderick MacConnoway,” she said, smiling warmly. “Greetings.”
Broderick smiled at her. “It is a pleasure to see you again, Alina. Welcome to my home.”
Closer, the resemblance to Duncan, his younger brother, was less pronounced. They were such different people. Where Duncan was merry and teasing, Broderick was grave and measured.
“Thank you,” Alina nodded. It would have been surprising to hear it known as his home, had she not heard from Duncan that the old thane had retired to the West wing, leaving Amabel and Broderick nominally in charge.
“Your solar is beautiful, Amabel,” she said gently. The settee was covered in velvety soft cushions, glowing in the flame light. The walls were hung with tapestries and the place gleamed, the oak polished with beeswax to shine. She was sure all of that was Amabel's work. They had been raised in Lochlann. Though austere, it bore the traces of their mother Joanna's court-inspired tastes. Amabel, it seemed, had taken after her.
“Thank you,” Amabel said, biting her lip, seeming suddenly shy. “I do like it.”
Broderick grinned. “Best piece of the place – this solar,” he said fondly. “Terrifies my father.”
They all laughed. Lord MacConnoway, thane of Dunkeld, was known for Spartan lifestyle even more than Brien himself was. The modern luxury of the castle under Amabel would indeed have been anathema to him.
Chrissie giggled. “You must tell us the story about the boars again,” she pleaded with Broderick, who bowed to her.
“Lady Chrissie. I have not greeted you. A pleasure. May I say you are become a lovely young lady.”
Chrissie blushed furiously and Amabel laughed. Alina too.
“Thank you, Broderick,” Chrissie said, suddenly shy.
Broderick smiled. “Yes, I will tell you about the boars. But first,” he said, looking around the solar, “we should eat. You're famished, I don't doubt! The journey is so very long.”
Alina, who had been feeling faint with hunger, nodded.
Amabel saw her expression and gently led her to a seat. Broderick and Amabel sat opposite each other at the oaken table, Alina beside her and Chrissie on Broderick's right, opposite Alina.
“Now,” Broderick said, gesturing to a servant, who seemed almost to have materialized from somewhere, “let us drink a toast to many happy gatherings like this.”
The man stepped forward and filled their silver goblets. Alina lifted hers and wet her lips with the liquid he poured her, letting the rich, heady wine revive her. She swallowed appreciatively and turned to Amabel.
“Your taste is excellent,” she complimented her on the wine. “I'm sure this vintage comes from far afield. Now. You must tell me all your news.”
Amabel laughed.
“Not a lot to tell, dear sister,” she began, smiling. “I think life is quite predictable without you.”
The two sisters laughed. They had more than enough adventures together, some terrifying. “Perhaps predictability has its advantage, dear sister?” Alina asked.
Amabel grinned. “Yes, dear. But it's not exciting!”
Chrissie, opposite them, laughed delightedly. Broderick raised his glass to Amabel appreciatively and a maidservant appeared with a stew that smelled rich and delicious. Alina let her ladle it onto her trencher and lifted a spoon to her lips, relishing the thick gravy.
It was, she thought, a pleasure to be here with her favorite people, having a simple dinner. She felt the food revive her and a glow returned to her cheeks, the stew and wine warming her as they sat and talked. The four sat and chattered away for what seemed like an age. Alina missed Duncan – if he had been present it would have been perfect.
Broderick told the story Chrissie wanted – a hilarious account of a hunt he and Duncan had undertaken which had ended with them in a treetop for a few hours.
“...and we could only come down when Donall, our hunt master, reached us with a team of tracking hounds.”
They all laughed. Broderick was chuckling and Chrissie giggled as if she was hearing the tale for the first time.
“It must have been a fine sight,” Amabel said, shoulders shaking with mirth.
“Not for us!” Broderick said with a grin.
Alina leaned back, feeling mellow and at ease for the first time in over a week. Here with her sister, away from Lochlann, she could forget her dark dreaming and be at peace.
She blinked. Amabel was saying something to her. She had been almost half asleep and had not noticed. All she caught was the word “visitors”.
“You have visitors?” she asked.
“Yes,” Amabel explained. “A party of men here for the hunt – the end hunts of the season.”
“They won't be here long...we don't want to agree to anything too constraining,” Broderick added gravely. “In case...” He stopped,
Alina looked up as he paused, looking behind her to the doorway. She turned round.
Found herself looking into green eyes, yellow in firelight, that looked at her with a strange mix of longing and fear that made her stomach clench with foreboding.
Amabel looked at her sister, feeling her fear. She stood.
“My lords,” she addressed the party of three youngish men who stood in the doorway, well-dressed and looking surprised. “I have the unforeseen pleasure of introducing you to some of my kinsfolk. May I introduce my sister, the Lady Alina of Lochlann, and my cousin, Lady Chrissie of Lochlann?”
The three men bowed. Alina swallowed and Chrissie flushed pink as one of the men smiled at her. Alina was looking at the man in the doorway. Who was still looking directly at her, green eyes intent.
“Alina, Chrissie? May I introduce our house guests?” Amabel said evenly. “I present Lord Bron, Lord Camry, and Lord Fergus.”
“Pleased to meet you,” Alina managed, her voice almost whispering.
Chrissie stood and bowed her head. “Pleased to meet you,” she echoed.
The young man on Alina's left, Lord Fergus, who had smiled at Chrissie, winked.
“Right honored, young lady. A pleasure to meet you.”
“A pleasure,” Lord Bron said gallantly, bowing his head in Alina's direction, then Chrissie's with some graveness.
The third man was still looking at Alina.
“Pleased to meet you, my lady,” he said. His voice was somewhere between mocking and arrogant, and the smile he gave her was edged with the same longing. Alina swallowed.
Amabel frowned from one to the other, then seemed to decide to simply ignore whatever it was she had noted.
“Well, my lords,” she said lightly. “Do please join us. We had just now sat down to dinner.”
The three men walked to the table. Fergus went to sit beside Chrissie. Bron went to Amabel's left, and Alina closed her eyes as Camry took the place beside her. Duncan, she thought a little desperately. Where are you?
He turned to her, grinning, showing teeth that were very white.
“Well, then, Lady Alina. Well met. This has turned into a surprisingly good evening after all.”