DISCUSSIONS AND PLANNING
The next morning, Blaine found himself sitting at breakfast alone with Alina.
“Broderick and Duncan are out riding and Amabel is in bed with a headache,” Alina informed him when he entered. She gazed at him tranquilly from her place at the table, wan sunlight shimmering down her dark hair.
“You know when they'll be back?” Blaine asked conversationally, taking a place beside her. He was still feeling uncomfortable following their encounter the previous day, and he had to try for a light tone.
“Tomorrow,” Alina said blankly. She lifted a spoon to her lips, and Blaine noticed that it held a dark red fluid that stained her lips, a little of it leaving a mark on her chin. He winced. It looked exactly like blood.
“They have business hereabouts?” he asked quietly. “Duncan and Broderick, I mean.” Trying to ignore the disconcerting fact that he shared a dinner table with a seeress who seemed to drink blood, he reached for a slice of crusty bread and a piece of ham.
“They're scouting to find the best place for sheep grazing,” Alina said succinctly. “They'll spend the night in the bothy and come back up tomorrow morning.”
“Oh,” Blaine said.
That dried up all possible conversation for the moment, and the silence stretched uncomfortably between them, broken only by the click of the spoon. He swallowed, his toes hurting as he considered whether or not it really was blood.
“I think you want to ask me something?” Alina asked after a moment. She dabbed her lips and Blaine looked at the wall.
“I...” he paused. He had. “I wanted to ask...if anyone told you where my wife is now. Please. I...I know I was idiotic yesterday. But I want to know the truth. Please?”
Alina sighed. She put the linen square aside, and Blaine noticed that it was, in fact, blood-stained on the edge. He inched away queasily and she laughed.
“Blaine,” she said gently, losing some of the remoteness of the seeress and becoming a conspirator, “Chrissie has gone to Lochlann. She went for me. She wanted to make me well. While she was there, she must have been taken ill and our aunt is caring for her. She's as safe as she can be. Probably safer, in some respects, than she would be here, more comfortable,” she added, giving him a neutral look that was somehow filled with accusation.
Blaine sighed. “I was a fool,” he admitted. “I have since understood your advice. I...” he ran a hand down his face, trying to explain how he felt. “I am not angry with my wife,” he said firmly. “None of this is her fault.” Alina nodded, and he continued. “I know she is...happier...away from here. From me,” he choked. “But I want to see her. I have to know she's safe.”
Alina smiled. She reached her hand across the tablecloth, and placed it over his. Blaine noticed her touch was fractionally less cold than it had been, which was reassuring. She laughed.
“Blaine, I'm not a ghoul. I care for Chrissie like my own daughter. You know that. And she loves you. Trust her.”
Blaine sighed. “I'll try.”
“And you can trust yourself while you're about it,” Alina added, some of her acerbic nature returning to her voice as she moved her hand, reaching for a slice of crusty bread. “You are better able to support her when you do.”
She sopped the bread in the blood, face intent, and Blaine felt his own breakfast move queasily in his stomach as she raised it to her lips. He nodded, eyes on the wall.
“I think I have to go and check on the building works,” he said, swallowing hard. “Excuse me, Lady Alina.”
Her laugh followed him out.
Out in the fresh air, Blaine collected his thoughts. He knew where his wife was! He could go and see her.
He looked around. He couldn't very well just up and off if Duncan and his brother were away in the fields. He had to stay to oversee the masonry work, at least until they returned. He decided he would set out for Lochlann tomorrow.
He had to see her.
Early the next morning, Blaine slipped away. He considered leaving a note for Duncan, but decided against it. He walked past the solar and saw Alina there at breakfast. She smiled at him archly.
“Shall I tell them when you'll come back?”
Blaine sighed. Sometimes, he wasn't sure whether she amazed or terrified him. In either case, prescience made matters simpler.
“Tell them I'll be back in a week,” he offered.
“Good,” she said cryptically. He left her smiling her secret smile, drinking her daily dose of blood.
The ride to Lochlann took a whole day, so Blaine set out early and took provisions. By the time the first streaks of wintry sunset were painting the sky red, he could see the squat edifice of Lochlann brooding on the hillside ahead.
Only a few hundred yards before I am beside her once again.
As he nudged Bert into the climb up the hillside, he could not help feeling suddenly nervous. What would she be like? Would she be willing to see him? Or would she still be angry? He sighed.
I have to try.
Simply thinking of Chrissie fired his loins in a way he could not have imagined. However, it brought its own sadness, its own wistfulness. Had he turned her away from him? Could they ever get back to that easy closeness they had shared before? The simple joy of waking up beside each other, kisses in the wan dawn?
“Chrissie,” he whispered under his breath. “I want that again. I want you.”
He shook his head to clear it. He was at the gate now. He stopped, feeling the strangeness of halting at the gate. I used to command here.
He stopped outside the gate, squinting up at the two men on sentry duty. One he could not remember, while the other one he recognized. Kenneth.
“State your business,” he said to Blaine, seeming uncomfortable.
“Oh, for Heaven's sake...Kenneth! I'm here to see my wife. You can make allowances for that?”
“Wait a moment,” Kenneth said. He looked as if he felt extremely awkward, which he doubtless did. He left Blaine outside the gate, stamping and shivering with cold. Bert recognized the place, clearly, for he rested his head on Blaine's shoulder where they stood together and huffed in his ear, seemingly impatiently.
At length, they heard Kenneth's feet clicking on the flagstones.
“The mistress says you can come in. If you go to the great hall.”
The mistress? Blaine blinked. Who would that be? Not Chrissie, surely? Still surprised, he followed Kenneth in through the familiar gateway, made suddenly strange, and into the great hall.
“There you are,” an arid voice said. Blaine looked around, and then blinked as his gaze found the speaker. A small old lady stood there, the light from the candles glowing on her white hair, giving her a soft gold aura. Her eyes were bright and piercing and she looked up at him with a knowing smile.
Blaine shivered. Though she seemed friendly, something uncompromising about her chilled his blood. “You are...”
“Aili Brodway. You know of me.”
Blaine swallowed hard. “Y...yes.”
The old lady laughed, showing white teeth. “I see that you do. Now. You came to see your wife.”
“Yes,” Blaine said. He found talking to Aunt Aili, with her fearsome reputation, frightening. “Is she here? Please. I need to...”
“Wait,” Aili said. He stopped talking at once and she smiled, seeming amused by her power to terrify him. “You are not ready to see her yet, I don't think.”
Blaine stared at her. His heart was pounding, his body was alive with nerves. He had to see Chrissie again! The thought was all that kept him on his feet right now.
“What? But why? How? Please...”
“Oh, hush,” the old lady said again. She looked, if anything, mildly annoyed. “You can sleep in the guest quarters tonight. It's late and your wife is too tired to receive visitors. You can see her in the morning.”
Blaine felt weak with relief suddenly. Was that all? He wanted to laugh. “Thank you,” he said. “I will come here directly tomorrow.”
“If she is ready to see you,” the old lady said firmly.
Blaine sighed. Why would she not be? He suddenly felt afraid again. “What is happening? Why would she not be ready to see me? Please...I'm worried for her.”
Aili smiled, then. She squeezed his hand, and he was surprised at how warm and strong her fingers were, her touch seeming to revitalize his tired bones. “Your heart's in the right place, lad,” she said kindly. “Now, go and rest. We'll see you the morrow.”
“I...yes. Thank you, my lady,” Blaine bowed. “Thank you.”
She smiled, and seemed to find his attitude vaguely amusing. Blaine left with the feeling of her eyes, boring into his back as he climbed the stairs. He thought he heard her laugh and wondered what was going on.
All he knew was that within a few hours, he would be able to see his wife again. He prayed that all would be resolved between them.
He fell asleep that night with his arms curled round the bolster, dreaming of Chrissie.