ON THE WAY
Warmth. Ettie stirred, feeling her toes warm and relaxed. She was somewhere...she had no idea where. However, it was warm. Her mind was still floating in layers of dream and she fought her way slowly down to wakefulness. Her mind asked a question.
Where am I?
Ettie, eyes still closed, sought memory and the answer for that question.
The forest. Brodgar. The wall.
Her mind fed her memories piecemeal – the sentries on a gate. A vast tower. A woman with dark red hair and the solemn eyes of a seer. Brodgar's sister.
Lochlann, the name returned then. You're in Lochlann.
Ettie rolled over. Opened her eyes. She was looking into a fireplace, the flames settled into a ruddy glow on charcoal. She rolled over, bringing her knees up to her chest. She was warm. So warm. She was well-slept. She drew her hand out from under the covers and ran it over her dry hair. She remembered, distantly, having a bath. She smelled clean. Her hair was soft.
I'm in Lochlann. I'm clean. I'm warm.
That answered all the immediate questions. She lay there for another minute, thinking.
Where is Brodgar?
Waking without him, even in such pleasant circumstances as these, was somehow upsetting. She had grown accustomed in their three days of voyaging to waking against his shoulder, hearing his breath.
She felt a blush creep into her cheeks, thinking that. Unmarried, they had spent three nights together. Albeit without any chance of doing anything...unchaste. Still.
I know now a little more than I did before, of how it will be.
Amazed at her wicked thoughts, she felt her face crinkle into a smile. She rolled over and sat up. Her head was fuzzy with daytime sleep, but she did not sway or feel sick for the first time in days.
She slid out of bed, stumbled and caught herself on the canopy, standing on the soft carpet and swaying slightly. “Glenna?”
The maid appeared after she had pulled a bell – she must have stayed within hailing distance all afternoon.
“Yes, Lady Henriette?”
“What time is it?”
“It's eight of the clock, my lady.”
“Truly?” Ettie frowned. It was light outside, the sky a slate gray.
“Yes, my lady. Eight of the clock, Sunday morning.”
Ettie stared at her. Had she truly slept all day? She ran a hand down her face, amazed at herself.
“Would my lady like assistance in dressing?” she asked.
“Yes, please,” Ettie said dreamily. She still felt weary and was grateful when the maid assisted her to a seat, then started to comb out her long golden hair.
Joanna had provided two gowns for her – one of white linen and one of dark blue wool. Joanna chose the latter and the maid helped her into it, lamenting at how weak she'd become.
“Here we'll soon set you to rights, milady,” she smiled. “Within a week you'll be ready to dance again. Mark my words.”
Ettie smiled and thanked her. A glance in the mirror showed her a woman with big slate gray eyes, a long face with skin white from lack of sleep, her hair a golden cloud to her waist.
“Where is Brodgar?” she asked the maid, who grinned.
“Just got up himself, my lady. At breakfast with his lordship. I'll take you there?”
“Thank you, Glenna. Yes.”
She followed the maid hesitantly down the long hallways, looking at the thick stone walls in awe. This was the fortress where Uncle Heath fostered as a youth her own age. She imagined what it must have been like, when Amabel and Alina and Chrissie were the ladies of Lochlann, her own age.
It is a fine place.
“And here's the solar, milady. Now I'll be off. Make up the chamber in case you want to rest again after breaking your fast.”
“Thank you, Glenna.” Ettie blinked back unbidden tears. She was so kind! Everyone here had been so kind to her. She might have died of cold or hunger in a few more days without this.
She hesitated in the doorway, hearing voices. Joanna was speaking, voice low and urgent.
“So, in light of this, we thought it would be best if you went on.”
“Yes,” Brodgar was replying. “Yes. I see.”
Ettie swayed and caught herself on the lintel before she fell. She hadn't realized she must have gasped, because a moment later Brodgar had twisted around to look at her. He was well-rested, too, though pale, his hair combed flat. He wore a white linen tunic and looked handsome.
“Ettie! Come! Sit!” He was beside her in an instant, guiding her to a seat at the table. She slid in beside him, absently noting the fine oak carved table with its twelve elaborately-decorated seats all around. The solar here was grander than that at Dunkeld, with its fine, high-pointed arches hidden almost from view behind an exquisite screen. It was wind-still and warm and discreet.
“You slept well?” Lord Dougal asked solicitously.
“Yes, thank you,” Ettie replied softly. The scent of fresh-baked bread and new cheese, of oats and small ale and butter, salted and fresh from the churn, was drawing her. She fought to keep focus.
“What were you discussing when I came in?” she whispered softly to Brodgar. “Where do we go?”
Brodgar took her hand. She looked at him again and noticed, for the first time, that he was smiling like the sun had risen. “We have news. Alf is safe. And Ambeal. We can go home.”
“What?” Ettie frowned at him.
It made no sense. She slowed her mind down, forced herself to consider each word. News. Alf and Ambeal. At home. Safe. We can go.
“But, how, Brodgar? How can it be? When...” she trailed off as a servant brought a tray of bannocks and Joanna purposefully poured her small ale – boiled to remove the alcoholic spirits and to make a warm, refreshing beverage – and passed her a bannock.
“Break your fast,” she said, levelling that flinty gray gaze at her. “Brodgar can inform you while you eat. Brodgar? Tell her the news.”
Brodgar laughed. “Yes, my sister. Ettie, we had messengers from Dunkeld last night.”
“Oh?”
“It seems...it seems Alf and Ambeal are there. They married. They traveled home as soon as it was done, with the document and a priest to witness it. Threw themselves on the mercy of MacDonnell. He, astonishingly, forgave them. Seems he was only too pleased that his daughter was alive. Thank Heaven! He saw sense finally.”
Ettie frowned. She let her mind go more slowly again, digested each word. Alf and Ambeal were married. Their marriage was accepted. They had gone home.
“That means that we...” She turned to Brodgar, a big smile growing on her face even as her heart swelled and soared in her chest. “That means we...”
“Yes,” Brodgar said, smiling like the sun rose. “That means we can go home, my dear. And marry. And love.”
She rested a hand on his shoulder, very softly. He smiled into her eyes. They looked at each other lovingly. She leaned forward and their lips brushed each other.
Then Brodgar pulled reluctantly away, turned to his sister. “I cannot thank you enough,” he said again.
“Oh, you can,” Joanna grinned. “You have already. No thanks are needed, brother. You know that. You've given me far more thanks than are needed then already, see? Now. We have to plan. Dougal?”
“Yes, my lady?” Dougal smiled. He had a nice smile. Measured and sweet. Ettie liked him and the love between he and Joanna warmed her.
I love seeing people in love. It adds to my joy. Now I've found Brodgar, I want everyone in the world to have this wonderful thing happen to them, too. I am so happy.
She grinned at Brodgar, who smiled and squeezed her hand. Then they turned to Dougal, who was still speaking.
“So we can take the road south, perhaps tomorrow. You will doubtless be eager to return home again,” he said to Brodgar and Ettie with a smile. “There are preparations I am sure you will be planning to make.”
“Wedding preparations,” Brodgar said firmly.
Ettie felt her heart stop She smiled at him. He smiled back.
“Well, I did ask you,” he said with a grin.
Joanna let out a laugh. “I should hope so.”
Ettie giggled. “My lady Joanna, you have a fine brother.”
“I know it,” Joanna beamed. “An impetuous, wild, stubborn brute of a brother, who Heaven alone knows where Mama found him, but yes. A fine, upstanding man. I love him.”
Henriette tried not to laugh, but it was useless. Brodgar was looking at his sister with mild surprise on his face, Dougal was laughing aloud and a muscle in Joanna's cheek twitched, showing she tried not to laugh at his face as her eyes sparkled.
Soon they were all laughing.
“Brodgar, my brother,” Dougal said with a grin. “She has you there.”
“My sister was ever observant,” Brodgar grinned. “I am afraid I cannot argue with any of her astute description.”
“Thank you, brother,” Joanna said. “You flatter me. Now, do be a dear and eat some more of that bread. It has to go somewhere, you know, or it will stale. And you, my dear. Do have some porridge. Warming and salty, just the way it's best.”
Ettie smiled at Joanna, who patted her hand. She did as she was bidden and ate the porridge. Joanna told them all stories about her work with the crofters as a healer – some funny, some tragic – and Ettie found herself liking her.
When the meal was finished, Dougal stretched amply. “I'm off to the practice ground. You two should get ready to leave...it would likely be best if we leave early tomorrow morning, so we can reach Dunkeld while it's yet light.”
“A wise plan,” Brodgar nodded. Ettie sat beside him while Joanna gathered her cloak and stood, wishing them a good day before heading out to the still-room.
Ettie stayed where she was beside Brodgar, listening to the silence as the footsteps stopped echoing in the stone-lined hallways. She reached across and took his hand. He squeezed hers warmly.
“So. Tomorrow we go?”
“Yes,” Brodgar nodded. “It scarce seems possible, doesn’t it?”
“It is, though,” Ettie whispered back. She squeezed his hand and, as his eyes looked into hers she felt her heart thump.
They kissed, deep and warm. Ettie tensed as his lips nuzzled hers, his tongue questing greedily along the line of her lips. When it parted them and thrust warmly inside, she felt her chest tense.
She wanted him so badly! She let her lips part gently under his tongue and as his warm mouth explored hers, the tongue stiff and hard, she felt as if warmth melted through her abdomen, making her lean against him, drowsy and aching with a longing for some strange, intangible thing her body knew and craved, and yet her mind did not fully comprehend. She wrapped her arms around him and pressed herself to him, feeling the drive in her body to press closer and closer...
Brodgar was gasping when their lips parted.
“Whew,” he chuckled. “My dear. I shouldn't do this.”
“No?” Ettie smiled.
“Well, no. Not unless we want to be very naughty indeed.”
Ettie took his meaning, reminding her as it did of their discovery in the cave. How close they had come, then, to breaking their agreement! They would have consummated their marriage then and there had not it been too cold or their own need to do things properly overrode it.
“Yes,” she said, blushing. “We shan't be.”
“No,” he whispered against her forehead, kissing her. “Not even slightly.”
She felt deliciously warm inside. They stood soon after and went about their business, but she couldn't hide the smile on her face. Her whole body longed for Brodgar and her soul soared: soon they would be going home; to Dunkeld.