The Promise (Highland Lairds of the Crest #4)

Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

Brianna was escorted from the shore on horseback. Although she was an accomplished rider thanks to the years of lessons her grandfather had urged her to take, she was grateful to merely be a passenger this time, seated with the guard who seemed to be in charge. As they made the arduous trek to the bluff above, Brianna realized that if not for her exploration of the tunnels, she never would have found herself by the tide pools. Consumed with thoughts, not so much on how she came to be here but why she’d felt pulled toward it each step of the way, she was thankful for the silence as the men navigated the steep path—and for Kitty, too, who still purred against her chest.

When they reached terra firma, Brianna’s breath caught as the castle came into view. So, this was Abersoch in its original form. Like a true beacon on a hill, the castle seemed to glow in beautiful glory. Its style reminded her at once of Pembrooke, the estate not so far from Dunhill that she’d developed a deep attachment to as a child, and where she’d first seen that specific knot that seemed to be everywhere now. She sat straighter in the saddle, hit with a rush of memories, and her eyes teared up. Brianna could still recall the day her grandfather had taken her there, and how seeing that design for the first time, carved deeply into the stone, had affected her.

She was still in somewhat of a stupor as she was helped down from the horse but nevertheless made sure to pat the animal affectionately before ascending the steps that led to the front doors. Suddenly shaking and chilled to the bone, Brianna stood in the massive entryway where she was turned over to the care of a man who seemed to be in charge. While he exchanged a few terse words with the guard who’d brought her inside, Brianna took in her surroundings, clinging to Kitty and feigning an air of detachment, all the while hoping she wouldn’t be turned back out.

“I’ll check on ye in the morn, lass,” the guard said, and his words—clearly indicating that she would still be here in the morning—pulled her from her stupor.

Brianna wasn’t sure why he’d taken such an interest in her welfare but appreciated it all the same, and nodded, murmuring a thank you before he turned to leave. His boots sounded loudly as he made for the door, casting a serious pall on her predicament as she turned to face the man she’d been left with, who by now she assumed was the chamberlain of the estate. The man wasted no time in exerting his authority and showing his displeasure, pointing at Kitty, and shaking his head .

“Please, sir,” Brianna breathed desperately, clinging to Kitty like a lifeline. “She’s free of fleas,” she said, though that was a total guess, “she’ll cause no harm.”

Luckily, the guard who’d taken her from the shore was still in earshot and called from the doorway, “She’s an O’Roarke, William.”

“Very well,” said the man, still looking skeptically at the fur ball, but when he next caught Brianna’s eye, she saw that his expression had softened.

Once again, the O’Roarke name had proved to mean something, and Brianna let out the breath she’d been holding, grateful her ancestors made such a favorable impression.

As the man—William—gave a final nod to the guard, he signaled to a young girl who Brianna hadn’t noticed, standing by the stairway. She quickly came forward and William, addressing her as Lilly, instructed her to take, “Miss O’Roarke to the north guest chamber.”

Relieved to have been accepted, Brianna followed the girl up the stairs, her hand skimming the stone wall as she admired the excellent masonry. Led to the very same guest room she’d slept in last night, Brianna stood just inside the doorway, taking it all in. While it was devoid of modern luxuries, the room was still somehow oozing warmth and charm, and, she noted, appointed with a few pieces that seemed to be ahead of their time.

Sage green and ivory linens adorned a large four-poster bed with ribbons of matching fabric curling about the posts. A vanity and two wardrobes flanked a large, framed mirror, resting upon the floor. Deep sills ran along the north wall, which faced the sea, each housing clear leaded glass windows, a luxury Brianna knew was usually saved for royalty or the church. She caught her breath as Lilly released a series of metal hooks, pulling the window open and securing it thusly to the wall. The fresh air smelled wonderful but quickly chilled her, and Brianna shivered, cuddling Kitty.

Lilly noticed as soon as she turned around, looking horrified to have distressed her. “Just the one,” she said by way of apology, explaining that although the guestchamber had been fully prepared, they weren’t expecting it to be occupied when the Montgomerys arrived. “A wee bit of airing and I’ll close it up tight,” she said, making her way to the fireplace and lighting the kindling, already piled high.

While Brianna warmed herself by the fire, a large wooden tub was moved from behind two privacy screens and placed in front of the hearth, followed by a steady stream of household staff, all carrying buckets of steaming water. Brianna surmised the buckets must be kept ready and lying in wait somewhere, a detail she couldn’t remember ever reading about but was grateful to discover, even if it was only in practice here. Once the tub was full, a long, polished board was affixed to the rim, and promptly filled with toiletries. While Brianna looked around the room for a suitable and safe place for Kitty, she noticed yet another quaint sitting area boasting a simple table and beautiful chairs. As Lilly busied herself lighting the candles set in lanterns throughout the room, she saw Brianna’s gaze fall on a door in the corner and explained that it was a private latrine.

“Do you need help with your bath?” Lilly asked, and as she started to unpack Brianna’s satchel, her eyes wide as she pulled out the Venetian gown, darted to Brianna and back to the fabric.

While Brianna let the girl reconcile her disheveled appearance with the luxurious garments, she suddenly realized whether appropriate or not, Lilly’s staying meant that she would see the decidedly modern clothing under her dress. Thinking best how to avoid this, Brianna watched the poor girl become increasingly alarmed as each and every garment she removed from the satchel and gently shook out was, at best, damp.

“It’s okay, Lilly, we can lay them on the hearth, I’m sure they’ll be dry in no time.”

By the look on her face, Lilly did not agree and instead gently gathered all of Brianna’s belongings in one fell swoop before hurrying out the door. While happy for the privacy, and more than ready to give the wooden tub a try, Brianna wondered if there was a way to lock or bar her door. All too soon, Lilly flew back in, Brianna’s clothing nowhere to be seen and carrying what looked like a robe of some sort.

“Did you need me?” she asked. “For your bath?”

Brianna smiled. “Nay, I’ll be fine.”

Lilly left, though not before laying some linens over the rim of the tub. Brianna barred the door behind her, then placed Kitty in a basket she’d spotted across the room and undressed, hiding her modern clothing and the medallion in the back of one of the wardrobes. While she soaked in a large wooden tub, the fireplace crackling and heating the room, Brianna learned she wasn’t a bath snob after all—hot water, a splash of heather-scented oil, and a pretty bar of floral soap could be appreciated, even centuries in the past.

After donning the robe that had been left for her, Brianna unbarred the door and sat on the hearth to dry her hair in front of the fire. She had just started brushing the strands between her fingers when Lilly came back, carrying a tray filled with ribbons and a pretty comb for her hair, as well as a basket of fresh straw for Kitty. It went beyond good training, this quiet, young girl, considered everything!

Lilly made three more trips that night: first, a tray for dinner which thoughtfully included something for Kitty too. At the sight of food, Brianna suddenly realized that it had been hours since she’d last eaten, and wondered what she might be in for. Luckily, the cook was set on perfecting a few recipes ahead of the Montgomerys’ arrival, and it smelled divine. She had to admit she was a bit obsessed with the pretty dish it was served in, too. When Brianna lifted the lid, she grinned at the unexpectedly familiar sight of pot roast and quickly dug in, enjoying tender pieces of meat and root vegetables roasted to perfection.

It was sometime later, as Brianna stared at the fire petting Kitty that Lilly brought in a chemise for her to sleep in. As Brianna slipped it over her head, the material fell about her body perfectly, and she marveled again at how lovely everything was. This castle clearly employed a deft-handed seamstress and had no shortage of luxurious fabrics. After Lilly turned down the bed and extinguished the lanterns around the room, she quietly let herself out. Exhausted, Brianna sunk into the mattress, surprised it was so soft, and promptly fell asleep.

Brianna spent the next three days under the watchful eyes of the congenial, but very tight-lipped household staff. Teetering somewhere between sheer panic and utter bewilderment that she’d well and truly time-traveled hundreds of years into the past, it took nearly all that time to trust she wasn’t going to be thrown in a dungeon (not that she’d seen one), or hear cries of ‘off with her head’ (which, if memory served, was still some years before this era), or watch as a woodpile or gallows went up on the grounds somewhere. Once she realized she truly wasn’t in danger, of any sort, Brianna felt her walls slowly come down, letting in the pure exhilaration of actually living in history. It had her in a constant state of sensory overload.

Still, she kept much to herself, well aware that her unexpected appearance had not only caused a stir but added to the staff’s responsibilities. Brianna had gathered—through Lilly—that they were readying the castle in preparation of receiving Gavin Montgomery, his wife Isabelle, and their four children. Their excitement was evident, and after a few days, Brianna decided she was excited to meet them, too. These were people the MacTavishes had spoken of so fondly, their closest friends in the fifteenth century—the ascendants of the very famous twenty-first century Montgomerys, Alexander and Amanda. Brianna wasn’t ashamed to admit, she felt a little starstruck at the prospect.

Based on her recent experience with the MacTavishes, it was clear that the Montgomerys were of similar ilk. It showed in the feelings amongst the staff and even the castle’s guard. The pervading joy was at first surprising, in a redundant everything was surprising sort of way.

She’d learned that Duncan, the man who’d found her by the tide pools, had been until recently, second in command to Greylen MacGreggor, and now oversaw the castle’s security, a position he took with the utmost seriousness. Duncan checked on her daily and continued to assure her that once his commander arrived, they would safely see her home, to Dunhill Proper. Since Brianna had never said where home was, not once, and neither had she been specifically asked, she just nodded and demurred. Once the Montgomerys arrived, she’d decide what, if anything, she should tell them. Hopefully with their help, she would figure out the mystery of Pembrooke, the medallion, the Celtic knot, and how they were all connected. Despite all of this, she’d almost broached the subject with Duncan several times, especially once she realized he was familiar with the people she’d heard the MacTavishes talk about, but stopped herself each time. Initially, she’d attributed Duncan’s honorable behavior, and that of the men under his authority, to her clothing, which she knew suggested noble or highborn status. As the days progressed, however, Brianna learned firsthand that the men who were installed to guard the Montgomery stronghold were in a word, chivalrous.

The interior personnel, who frankly all appeared to be of the same family (at least three generations of them), were managed by William. From chambermaids to laundresses, and even the well-appointed kitchen staff, their dimples and good nature were obviously hereditary, and their competence, too. Watching their daily routine was fascinating, exciting even. Brianna was witnessing what she’d learned in history books and scholarly texts displayed in real time, right before her eyes.

With very little to do throughout the following days except wait for Mr. Montgomery, who would assign someone to escort her, God willing, to Dunhill, she walked throughout the castle and explored the grounds. From what she could gather so far, the castle was complete, at least for the time being. Not a bad starting point, if she said so herself. Brianna had of course examined structures like this before, but seeing it newly built instead of in varying degrees of restoration after hundreds of years, she could appreciate its beauty, both aesthetically and structurally. It thrilled her to know some of the men who’d had a hand in its construction—Dar and Lachlan would no doubt be proud of what their original vision had amounted to.

From her conversations with the staff, which usually turned into her peppering them with questions, eager as she was to learn if what she’d read in books was truly accurate, Brianna discovered that the Montgomerys planned to settle into their household, first, and see to any modifications the following spring. She couldn’t imagine what, if anything, would need to change. Dar and Lachlan had done a remarkable job—not to mention their friend, Mr. Sinclair, if she remembered correctly, who not only began the project with them but took over when they’d left. In less than three years a sound and fortified structure stood complete with a trustworthy staff, and formidable men installed to guard the Montgomery stronghold. Brianna supposed their mass fortification had to do with safeguarding the portal as well.

On her fourth morning at Abersoch, Brianna awoke from an incredibly sound sleep. She stretched contentedly before pushing the bed linens aside, smiling as her fingers brushed against the material. Everything was so much more sumptuous than she’d expected, despite all her reading and historical knowledge. Not only were the bedclothes surprisingly soft, but the mattress and the pillows were, too. She’d expected coarse or even crude appointments, honestly in just about everything, but it was far from the case, or at least in the case of the Montgomerys and their station.

Using the cushioned footstool beside her bed, a lovely fifteenth-century original, replete with an embroidered cover, Brianna stepped down before reaching for Kitty who had taken to sleeping at her feet. Just as she started straightening her bed, a knock sounded on her door.

“Come in,” Brianna called, as she continued her one-handed chore, knowing it was Lilly, who’d become a welcome sight over the last several days.

“Ah, good morn Miss O’Roarke,” Lilly said brightly, setting down the tray and basket before rushing to the other side of the bed to help her. “I brought fresh food for your companion,” she said of Kitty, taking the time to, as she always did, fluff the mattress from beneath before smoothing every wrinkle from the bed cover once they finished.

While Lilly saw to cleaning and straightening her room, not that it needed it, Brianna grabbed Kitty’s bowl of food from her breakfast tray and set her down to enjoy her morning feast. Thank goodness they knew how to feed a house cat—Brianna balked at the idea of setting her out to forage for her meals. The kitchen staff also surprised her with a handful of treats that were surely before their time. Like the ginger-mint tea, she was sipping on now. She wasn’t complaining, but at the same time, she wondered how a fifteenth-century estate in Wales stocked a perfectly crunchy granola or was partial to serving fresh fruit instead of the preserved fruit that Brianna knew was the favored option of the time. Either it had something to do with the fact that some other modern women were living amongst these families as Dar and Celeste had said there were, or her history books had gotten it wrong. Maybe both. She’d made a few casual comments in passing, but they’d gone unnoticed, so rather than risk raising suspicion, she let it go.

Brianna chose clean undergarments and a shift, then grabbed Kitty, who was tangling between her feet. As she made way for the latrine, another surprise, and a very welcome one, Lilly reached for the kitten. They’d fallen into a routine these last few mornings, and Brianna honestly couldn’t say that she minded it very much. It seemed that Lilly was happy, too, especially to have an indoor pet. Brianna’s first suspicions—that the entire household staff was all part of a family—had proved true, and it was lovely to see, charming even, especially at mealtime. Not that she was allowed to eat with them (as that would be “below her station,” per Lilly), but she also refused to let them serve only her at that large table in the great hall—they had enough responsibilities without having to accommodate an unexpected ‘noble’ guest. She did break protocol on occasion, if one considered an occasion at least twice a day, when she returned her tray to the kitchen, raving about another successful meal, and then lingered to take a cup of tea and chat.

“What dress shall I wear today, Lilly?” Brianna asked, as she skimmed over her growing collection of gowns, which now included the three from Esmeralda and two others that had been added to her wardrobe since her arrival. Lena, Lilly’s aunt, and an accomplished seamstress had insisted on fashioning the extras. At first, Brianna had sharply objected, already feeling like she’d been given so much, but when Lena explained it was more time-effective in the long run, Brianna had relented. Besides, the additions were beautiful, and considering that Brianna didn’t know how long she would be here, well, a few more outfits would help. She found herself falling into a comfortable pattern and was surprised that she liked having people about. Holding up the dark blue gown with flared sleeves, Lilly nodded, helping her into it.

Brianna had just finished putting her hair up when she heard happy shouts from the grounds below. Curious and cradling Kitty against her chest, Brianna raced across the room to the stone sill, gasping at the sight of a magnificent ship in the distance, watching as it changed course and veered into the bay.

As the ship slowed and drew nearer, she could make out a man standing on the deck, large in stature, his face hidden beneath a hooded cloak. Two other men stood sentinel behind him, a clear show of might, and one Brianna noticed echoed upon the bluff, which was lined with soldiers. She heard some indiscernible shouts called from the deck and watched as the crew scrambled to heed orders, furling the remaining sails and dropping their first anchor and then another to moor the ship. A longboat was lowered into the water, and netting secured to the hull—and throughout it all, not once had the cloaked man nor his guards moved. It wasn’t until the women and children were safely aboard the longboat that they broke form. Brianna had to admit it was a formidable display, worthy of the castle’s proprietor .

When they reached the dock, Brianna leaned out as far as she could without falling, fascinated as she watched. The cloaked man—Mr. Montgomery, Brianna surmised—stood, his polished boots hitting the dock one at a time. Then, as he surveyed the coast, the rock wall, and the castle itself, he removed his hood, and Brianna gasped, stepping back. She was surprised both by how handsome he was and her reaction to the reveal. Brown sun-kissed hair, broad shoulders, and sinewy arms, visible even from here. Shaking off whatever it was that struck her, Brianna reminded herself that he was married and was, in fact, now helping his beautiful wife and their gaggle of children onto the dock.

Brianna continued to watch as a parade of people disembarked the ship, followed by trunks and wrapped packages, until the Montgomerys disappeared from sight, to ascend the steep path. It was some time before they reached the top of the bluff. Then, they rode to the courtyard on horseback, he was carrying a baby, a young child, and two other older children were with soldiers. The whole family was met at once by Duncan. Mr. Montgomery slid off his steed, his large hand lingering to give a string of affectionate pats as he listened intently, before transferring the baby into his wife’s arms.

Then his gaze shot to the castle, and the very spot where she stood.