The Promise (Highland Lairds of the Crest #4)

Chapter 12

CHAPTER 12

The wind had picked up significantly by the time Aidan had situated Brianna on the longboat. They were sitting across from one another and quarters were tight, so her legs were perched between his. Her tension at being aboard a boat was clear—she was all but clutching Kitty as she looked out to sea. She shivered, and without thinking, he removed his cloak and then wrapped it around her. When he lifted the hood, he was grateful to see a spark of appreciation in her eyes—the first hint of life since they left the bluff. Whereas before, she’d been so unguarded and carefree—so full of pure delight at everything around her—since they’d left the courtyard, she’d been mute and expressionless. It was a sorrowful change, and he was surprised at how deeply it affected him. He couldn’t imagine what she was feeling, but as he held her gaze, he hoped that one day he would earn the honor of her confidence.

It was true, he’d been wary of Brianna at the start, but that had quickly shifted. With each ensuing interaction, the riddle of her untangled just a little bit more, and though he had yet to receive a blunt confession from her about where she was from, truly from, Aidan was utterly convinced Brianna O’Roarke was his intended match. While the list of her attributes was fast growing as he learned about her, there was something more and beyond the obvious of her physical appeal, and even that of her wit. He could not pinpoint exactly what it was, truly, it was immaterial and a sensation wholly new to him, but in Brianna’s presence, he felt…rightness. Yesterday he’d considered her merely more plausible than Judith—today, plausible did not come close to the degree of his conviction, and God help anyone who dared say differently.

Now, as he held her gaze, that little bit of appreciation she’d graced him with faded and her bearing grew so serious, her eyes big and haunting as she stared up at him, that he began to question his rationale in taking her. He was on the cusp of signaling the crewmen to turn back and return to the dock when Brianna reached for his arm. She shook her head, and he knew somehow, she had guessed his intention, surprising him yet again. Some strands of her hair had loosened from the neat pile on top of her head, and he reached out to tuck them back inside. Just as he did so, she whispered something that he couldn’t hear over the wind. When he pulled back and asked her to repeat herself, she said, “Do you believe in magic?” He couldn’t be sure if she was picking up their conversation from the night before, or if her question was singular in nature.

To grant himself more time to formulate a reply, he tucked one last strand behind her ear, then draped the hood of the cloak back over her head, just so, to frame her face. When he met her stare, he found so much earnestness there, he answered in kind.

“I believe there are things I do not understand and cannot fully fathom or explain. But I have seen firsthand, situations that are seemingly impossible, yet they are very real and exist.”

She did not blink as he spoke, but searched his eyes, clinging to each and every word. Considering the gravity of the matter—a bridge she’d crossed between centuries—he understood her reticence, well aware she was testing his measure and worthiness. Her decision to trust him, needed to be hers and hers alone, and while he was certain he had it—her trust—at least in part (ergo their tight proximity on a boat in the water), he remained captive under her penetrating gaze, unwilling to move or even blink, lest he lose it. He was relieved to see life spark in her eyes again but pitied anyone subjected to such scrutiny.

When she finally leaned closer, he did so too, and she said, “Do you believe in destiny?”

“More than most,” he said without hesitation.

It seemed he’d passed whatever test she’d set out for him because Aidan could swear he felt her relief as her shoulders dropped. When she laid a hand on his leg and inched even closer, so close he could see the varying flecks of blue in her eyes, he nearly forgot to breathe.

“If I told you something… something that seems impossible but—” Brianna’s eyes widened as the boat rocked, and Aidan braced her as she lurched forward, carefully tucking her head beneath his chin. He, too, was stunned to realize they’d reached the ship. He couldn’t recall ever being so immersed that he’d forgotten his surroundings. Ever. As he stood, he lifted her with him, her pet happily purring between them. In that moment, he was glad for the small boat’s unsteadiness. He helped her find her balance, then gently released her. It was not acknowledged, but in those brief moments that he’d held her, Brianna had wrapped her arms around his waist and held him just as firmly.

After Henry gathered Brianna’s things (everything else had already been taken on the ship) and made his way aboard, Aidan helped Brianna from the longboat. There was no evidence of everything that had just transpired between them, and though she had yet to look at him since pulling from their embrace, he could clearly see how focused she was on the task before her, and how the reality of the upcoming journey was sinking in.

When she reached for the ladder, he covered her hands as they gripped the rungs. “Like this,” he said, repositioning them for the best stability. She nodded and then looked up to where Henry now awaited her. “You’ll be there in no time. I’ll be right behind you,” he said .

She looked at him then, again so seriously, his heart clenched, and he wondered if this was what his brethren felt each and every day—if so, he wasn’t sure how long he might survive.

“Brianna?”

“What if fate is bringing me full circle?”

Aidan shook his head. “If I thought for one second, that boarding this ship would cause you harm, I would not let you do so.”

Brianna gave a small nod, then focused on the rungs again. As she began climbing, she whispered something to herself, and though he couldn’t be sure he’d heard her correctly, Aidan would have sworn she’d said, “Fate will take you where you’re meant to go.” He watched her go up, rung by rung, unable to believe it possible that Brianna had steeled herself for the climb by whispering the very words Lachlan oft said to Dar, especially in the days leading up to their departure. By the time he’d shaken off his stupor, convinced he must have misheard, he had to scramble up the ladder to meet Brianna, where she was waiting on the deck beside Henry. Aidan gave her a close look as she adjusted the carrier Kitty was in, and smoothed the material of her dress, but her face betrayed nothing of the words she’d just whispered, and so he decided he’d move on from it too, at least for now.

After giving her a few moments to gather herself, Aidan showed her about the ship. Much like their walk from dinner last eve, he was again acutely aware of her beside him, and again favorably so. He waited patiently each time she stopped to examine some aspect of the ship or another, paying particular attention to each of the masts, mechanisms and all. The crew, all familiar to him, save one, nodded politely and busily went about their duties.

“Ah, I see we have another sailor aboard,” said the captain, chuckling as he approached, no doubt having noticed Brianna’s keen attention to the ship. “Sailor- ess , that is.”

Though Brianna smiled at Captain John, who Aidan had always considered friendly if a little forward, she nervously laughed off his words. “Oh, no, sir, just interested in the ship. Do not rely on me to sail!”

As Aidan made formal introductions, he explained to Brianna that Captain John had been instrumental in teaching them all to sail when they were young, lasses included.

This brought a true smile to her face, and she said, “My father taught me as well. I was told it was an O’Roarke tradition started by Fergus himself.”

Captain John was looking at Brianna curiously and scratching his chin. “An O’Roarke, you say?” he asked, shaking his head. “I’ve yet to meet one who doesn’t have a wild mane of hair.

“Unless it’s from your mother’s side, I suppose, but even then, every O’Roarke bairn I’ve ever met has inherited the hair.” The man, more familiar with the family and its branches than Aidan was, continued to look at Brianna, who had visibly reddened and was absentmindedly running her fingers through her hair .

Right. “Always a first, Captain,” he snapped, bristling at the Captain’s impudence.

Aidan grasped Brianna’s hand and led her away as Captain John shouted, “Not an insult, just an observation, Sinclair!” to their backs. “Welcome, aboard lassie!”

It did not matter to Aidan that he’d had the very same thought about Brianna’s very un-O’Roarke locks, what mattered was that he hadn’t come out and said it to her, lest it hurt her tender feelings. Grumbling to himself as they crossed the deck, Aidan stopped only when Brianna whacked his arm. Whirling around, wondering what on earth had gotten into her, he saw Henry giving him an odd look as well. He reined in his impatience at the sight of Brianna attempting to catch her breath.

“Sorry,” she said, shrugging, a small smile growing across her face. "I did try to get your attention. It was hard to keep your pace, you were practically dragging me down the deck.”

Right. So much for being level-headed. He grunted something he hoped might pass as an apology and was about to start off again when she placed a hand on his arm.

“What he said was true. It is an O’Roarke trait to have wild curls, and I guess sometimes I’m a little sad that my hair isn’t the proud marker of our heritage that it could be.”

He wasn’t sure what to make of that except that she was trying to make him feel better .

“Would you like to see your quarters?” he asked, choosing to change the subject entirely.

“I wouldn’t like to do anything aboard this ship, but since we’re here, getting settled would be nice.”

As he led her below deck to the well-appointed cabin that had been set aside for her, he was careful to point out markers along the way so she could easily find her way in the event neither he nor Henry were with her. Inside the room, fresh linens had been laid on the bed, and Aidan was pleased to see that a bouquet of flowers had been set on a table. The staff at Abersoch had been sure to tell him that they had liked having Brianna as their first official guest, and it showed. As he started to point out the cabin’s features, she leveled him with a look. Right . He was acting like a dolt.

“Ah well, yes,” he said, recovering himself. “My quarters are just beyond this one, should you need me. You remember how we got here?” She nodded as she placed Kitty on the bed, beside her bags, which Henry had brought down. “If I don’t see you on deck once we’re underway, I’ll come check on you. Either Henry or I will always be close at hand.”

Once he was sure Brianna would be alright, Aidan headed above board to speak with Captain John again, seeing as their first conversation had ended so abruptly. The man laughed when he saw him, then held up his hand as he finished calling out orders to his crew. Once they’d left the cove, he grinned and said, “She suits, Sinclair.”

Obviously. Aidan knew John wasn’t expecting a reply, merely relishing the fact that he’d lost his head. An affliction that was new to him. So, other than fixing him with a glare, Aidan ignored the man’s words, and instead asked about provisions. Although Aidan hadn’t planned a long stay at Abersoch to begin with, now that they were leaving a day or two ahead of schedule, he wondered what, if anything, might still be unaccounted for.

“All set, aside from a few men, down after drinking some tainted ale,” Captain John said, then explained that they’d made a few substitutions, which would account for the unfamiliar face Aidan had seen as they’d boarded. The captain assured him that the sailors were qualified, but as they were true unknowns, they were of course being closely monitored. The other ship, now empty of supplies, would be a day behind, and the current plan was to make port in Ayr again and stay overnight. While not optimal, under the circumstances, it was sound.

Aidan was eager to formally end whatever hopes of an alliance the Fitzgeralds thought they might still have regarding their land, as well as their misguided plan that he would wed Judith. Though he’d been able to put them off somewhat easily up until now, he’d realized that it had been a mistake to entertain their proposal in the first place, and not cut ties at Seagrave when he’d had the chance. Now, Aidan hoped a demonstration of respect (not that they deserved it) in speaking with them directly might well ensure that Judith would not be cast in an unfavorable light—both to future suitors or her brothers .

Aidan had yet to inform Greylen and Callum of his plans to meet with the Fitzgeralds. He’d planned to do so in person, but now with this extra day, there was a very real possibility that word might reach them first. He passed Henry, who was keeping watch on Brianna’s door, as he headed to his quarters to pen the missives to his brethren. Though vague in detail, lest the letters fall into the wrong hands, the task still took some time, and when he finished, Aidan was eager to check on Brianna and see how she was faring. He hoped some fresh air and maybe some refreshments would sound appealing.

Leaving his cabin, he was surprised to find the hallway empty. If Henry was gone, that surely meant Brianna had gone above board, but still, he knocked just in case, chuckling as he did. He was feeling a bit lighter now, clearer, and looking forward to speaking with her, and hoping she’d be open to a few, well-posed questions.

As soon as his boots hit the deck, he heard a commotion across the bridge. Before he could make a guess at what could be causing such a stir, one of the crew, a man he knew well from over the years, came running his way. Seeing the urgency in the man’s eyes, a sense of foreboding settled upon Aidan. All he could think of was how Brianna had worried she might be fated to go down with the ship, and he went running in the same direction. Aidan pushed his way through the crowd, bracing himself for what he might find, wholly unprepared for what he saw when he broke through. Another of the crew—one of the substitutes by the unfamiliar look of him—had somehow gotten a hold of Kitty and had her by the scruff. It seemed he was threatening to throw her overboard, while the rest of the crew tried to reason with him, warning the sailor that he was making a terrible mistake.

Terrible did not even come close, Aidan was furious.

The horror on Brianna’s face, as she watched this man dangle her precious pet over the railing, was painful to take in. Henry was holding her back, most likely from trying to charge the man herself. Had this interloper a shred of common sense, the look on Henry’s face alone would have ended the situation. Catching Henry’s eye, Aidan signaled he would take the man down—gladly. On Henry’s nod, he stepped up behind the sailor and swiftly rendered the man unconscious with a quick and firm application of pressure to his neck. Before the man went down, Henry was there, glowering, as he plucked Kitty from the man’s arms, eager to return the cat to Brianna. Aidan watched the tearful reunion with relief, then looked down at the man stirring by his feet.

“Confine him below,” he said to the crewmen who had assembled. He thought nothing of his tone until he saw the look on Brianna’s face.

If she only knew the true breadth of his anger. He was beginning to calm, but rage at what had been done to her was still simmering when he approached her. When she looked up at him, he did not hide the ire that was still surely evident on his face—her wide- eyed disbelief confirmed it. When he spoke, however, he made an effort to keep his voice even.

“I would ask that you do not let the behavior of one man, unknown to us save for today, jade your opinion of the rest of the men aboard this ship, nor anyone you encounter under my employ,” he said. “I cannot speak on the character of those I do not know, but I promise you, Brianna, while I still breathe, I will protect, honor, and serve you at the expense of all else.”

He wasn’t sure if she understood the implications, nor did it matter. He looked deeply into her eyes, offering a silent prayer that the trials they had endured today might have satisfied Esmeralda’s warning.

In his bones, however, he somehow knew they had not.