The Promise (Highland Lairds of the Crest #4)

Chapter 28

CHAPTER 28

Aidan had never intended to keep the information of his upcoming journey from Brianna—in fact, had he not been so swiftly banished from their chamber earlier, he would have told her then.

Now, however, he remained seated, engaged in a silent battle of wills with the worthiest opponent he’d ever encountered. Truthfully, he wasn’t certain he had the desire to stay his ground—he hated that Brianna had yet again been thrown into a swirl of doubt and confusion—and so he was grateful when everyone around the dinner table abruptly excused themselves, muttering excuses about children who needed to be tended to and the like. While Brianna said her goodnights, Grey confirmed with Callum the ship’s readiness for an early departure and motioned to the staff to return later.

Once the room was empty, Aidan turned his chair to face Brianna’s, hoping she would follow suit. She did not, however, and instead, sat up straighter, then leveled him with her most intense gaze yet.

“You’re returning the bodies, and the prisoners, aren’t you?” she said. “And you’ll need to check on Judith, I’m sure. I can imagine that you would feel some sense of responsibility toward her, especially now.” She put her hand up to stop him when he made to speak. “I’m only saying that I know you well enough to know, regardless of the circumstances, you feel beholden to make sure your actions don’t impact her negatively.”

She was right, of course, but he feared she was placing more import on the venture than was really there. His greater concern, however, was her flat tone and expressionless eyes. He was learning his wife was a force of her own, especially when pressed, but considering her earlier worries, he feared she might distance herself from him because of it. After a moment, he used his boot to slide her chair around so she faced him too.

“Breea…. Bri anna.”

“We’re not married,” she said, again, clearly fixated on the detail that was driving her. “I’ve been living in a magical bubble of false security.”

“Och, when spoken like that I can almost understand your worry.” He pressed his fingers to his eyes, and sighed, taking a moment before leveling her with a fervent gaze of his own. “However, no matter how we’ve come to be here, we are married. Mutual consent and consummation are binding.”

“Not to an O’Roarke, not in the long run. ”

“It was before,” he said, surprised by his heated reaction. “Save you, I’d strike down any who suggested otherwise.”

“Aidan.” She pressed her hand to her chest and shook her head, her tone at once contrite. “I wasn’t diminishing what we have, you have my entire heart. If Father Michael could marry us right now, I’d be the one dragging you along to see him, just to satisfy my fear…but…” Her words trailed off. Seeming to settle on something in her mind, she leaned forward and grasped his hands, then spoke again. “… But I think there’s a chance in the end — that it may not happen.”

Aidan let out a small sigh, grateful that his fears of her pulling away from him had been unfounded. Her touch, too, was a blessing, though with her hands so delicate in his, he could feel her struggle, her worry, even. If he were being honest with himself, he must acknowledge its very real effect on him, and that of her words, so wholly unacceptable. But, he was Sinclair of the House of Pembrooke and that meant he couldn’t be so quick to give in. He carried with him the full weight of his name and title, and even just the thought of this shored him up. He tried to at least find a spot of ground they could meet on. Leaning closer, his eyes locked onto hers, he said, "Dar and Celeste were separated, they’re together and happy now.”

It did not have the effect he’d hoped.

“You’re speaking of your brethren. They’re not O’Roarkes,” she said with a sad shrug. “And besides, that still means that their union was lasting—there was simply a pause, during which neither moved on from the other.”

He was surprised by the degree to which her words set him back. “A pause,” he repeated. “A pause ? I think not.” He struggled to keep the offense from his tone. “I would say ’twas more of a transcendent gulf, to which I am sure you would agree now that you’ve had your own experience with such. Our unions are not some fair-weather affairs to flit to the wind, Brianna. When one of us finds his match, there is no other, nor moving on.”

“What about Callum and Maggie?”

“I would not say their example applies to your hy -poth-e-sis,” he enunciated, “but instead proves mine.”

“How so?”

“They are one and the same. Maggie is another Fiona, and Callum, another Derek, identical souls born centuries apart.” He gave her a moment to consider that, then asked, “Have you ever seen or come across past evidence or known an O’Roarke, other than Callum, to find love again after the loss of their one true love?”

Brianna shook her head immediately—she hadn’t needed to even consider it, as he’d rightly surmised.

“Because they don’t,” Aidan said. “That’s it, Breea,” he said, casting his hands out, and feeling his fervor mount as he continued. “ This is what we have, and what has proved true for all my brethren, those who don’t bear the O’Roarke name included. Even Lachlan never entertained another after Ella. And Dar would not have moved on had Celeste never been returned to him. Celeste, too, would have mourned the loss of Dar for the rest of her years, for he could only have turned up in her time in another incarnation if he had passed in ours—at least that is how I understand fate’s workings.”

Brianna’s brows drew together in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Aidan sighed. It was difficult to explain if you did not already know it. “I cannot prove it, but I believe that eternally matched souls will always have the possibility to find one another again should one-half die, even across time and space—not that it will happen, only that it remains possible. By whatever magic or fate that has brought us all together, I do not believe any of us move on from our destined love in the case of anything but death to either one of our partners or both.”

Aidan had been so caught up in his hypothesizing that he hadn’t noticed the shift in Brianna’s expression. Something urgent crossed her face. “We need to get this all down on paper, parchment …now,” she said, already rummaging around the room.

“Breea?”

She put down the etched bronze orb she’d been admiring, having been distracted in her search. “I was thinking about that letter my grandfather left for me. It’s just…” When she trailed off, lost in thought again, Aidan raised a brow, hoping to prompt her when she next regarded him. “Right,” she said, pointing his way with a knowing smile, and a clear nod to his manner, “You’re probably not going to believe this, but I was so mewhat of a handful when I went to live with him. I never misbehaved of course, but I was just…intense I guess.”

You don’t say . Aidan suppressed a smile. He could only imagine his Breea—so curious, so resourceful, so desperate to understand the world—as a young lass entering a whole new life after hers had been turned upside down. Rather than make any assumptions about her character, however, he simply said, “I’m sure he had no expectations other than providing a safe haven for you.”

She smiled softly. “He did, but I mean to say that more than anyone, my grandfather would know I would need proof. He would have accounted for all this, so it’s suddenly striking me as odd…”

She bent down to inspect the walnut games table, intricately inlaid with venetian glass, and trailed off again as she was apparently becoming wont to do. “What was odd?” Aidan pressed, eager for her to continue.

“Well, he mentioned ensuring our legacy, and that a part of me knew all along, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that being here is my legacy. Maybe he just meant because of my fascination with Pembrooke and my training I would be validating our legacy for the future… or something.”

Aidan thirsted for more. “Do you have it?” he asked, leaning forward. “This letter?” He had a desperate need now to see these words for himself.

She shook her head, sighing as she gave up on her quest for parchment, and came back to her chair, a carved chess piece in hand. She gave him an impish grin before setting the marble knight on the table and turning the small horse so that it faced her. “No, I left it on my nightstand before I went for a walk in the tunnels.”

“But you said you didn’t take your bag with you either.”

Her eyes widened. “No, I didn’t,” she said. “It just sort of showed up next to me after …well, after . Packed with all my things, of course, at least the things I’d gotten from the fair.”

“Did you check it thoroughly?” he asked, an idea forming in his head. “Being a true original, ’tis possible Dar or Lachlan would have slipped your letter into the bag’s concealed inner pocket.” Aidan tried to keep his excitement in check, but it was difficult.

“No,” she said slowly. “There was nothing in there until I hid the medallion inside.”

Aidan bit back his disappointment. Part of him had believed there would be a letter from the one person Brianna trusted above all else that told her what she needed to hear. But, she had checked the bag’s hidden stores, so clearly their way of communicating with each other had been passed down, and she had known where to look. No matter. He would be her proof. He could convince her, and give her the stability she needed and so deserved. Aidan leaned forward and cupped his hands around her face.

“Breea, we will prevail. I have sworn allegiance to very few in my lifetime and vowed but once to honor, love, and protect until my last breath— you .”

She smiled softly. “You’ve given me so much, I could never have imagined what this would feel like. I can’t imagine living with…out—without...you.”

Och, those eyes, so big, so haunting cut right through him. “You believe this, still?” he said. “That we may not be meant to be together any longer than is necessary?”

“So much it’s killing me. I don’t want to, I just can’t help it.”

For the first time, Aidan felt fear creep in, and he found himself wondering if she might be right.

“Well,” he began slowly, “While I cannot foresee the future, I have every intention of returning to you whole and devoted after this journey is complete.”

“I know. And I can’t wait,” she breathed clutching his hands.

Good God, she had put the scare in him. “I have every intention of returning to you,” he repeated. “And you will be here, whole as well.” And if she wasn’t, he would move heaven and earth to find her.

She nodded, and there was a flicker in her eye that jolted him, and he leaned closer, somehow knowing what she was about to ask.

“I know we’ve had such a day,” she began, “but maybe it’s because of that… and this uncertainty of what our future holds that I need…I really need you to take me upstairs and make love to me. I need to be as close to you as I can possibly get.”

He nodded, and with that same primal need surging through him, he could not get her upstairs fast enough. Once he had her within their chamber, he could barely recall how they got there, so focused was he on his aching need to have her— now . He barred the door and immediately, they were on each other, all over each other, grappling their way to the bed while proceeding with the swift (yet careful of her wrist) removal of their clothing. He would not call what happened next lovemaking; it was certainly borne out of love, but in truth, from the moment they’d left the great hall until he’d buried himself deep inside of her and drew his first full breath, it was an act of desperation. He knew she felt it, too, this instinctive need, both raw and primitive at its core. Still, in the aftermath, he and Brianna both felt the tension of the day fade enough that they were able to share some welcome and carefree moments, smiling as they picked up their clothing scattered from the door to the bed and, as they washed, enjoying the unhurried familiar affection that had grown between them these last weeks.

After helping her into a delicate shift that he’d found freshly laundered and hanging in the wardrobe, he added another log to the fire, quickened his steps, and joined her in their bed, lest she make more of a mess than he could fix or worse, hurt herself. “Let me,” he said, coming up behind her as she struggled to knot her hair with only one completely functional hand.

She turned and smiled as his fingers brushed through her hair before tying it just so, then hummed when he leaned forward and pressed his lips to her neck, which caused her to shiver. He liked that, and did it again, grinning when she made a sound of pure contentment.

“I did have a thought…” she said, rather optimistically, before her words trailed off and she scooted herself back between his legs.

“And?” he said, trying to quell the hope that was leaping in his heart.

He let his fingers trace the slope of her neck as he waited for her reply, watching as goosebumps raised in response to his touch. After a moment, she shifted herself again to look at him, though remained in the circle of his arms. Her eyes sparkled as she brushed her fingers across his forehead before tangling them in his hair. She glanced slyly at his cut and nodded in approval, obviously pleased with how it was healing.

Then, she finally spoke. “If I had a tally of the signs, the things that could corroborate that staying here, married to you is my legacy?—”

“Do you?” he wondered, unable to help the interruption.

She smiled. “No, but the second I can get my hands on some ink and parchment, you can bet your dragons that I will.”

He chuckled and pulled her closer, nudging his face to hers. “So, this tally of yours?”

“Right,” she said, grinning. “I love everything about it here—most especially you,” she whispered, brushing his lips. “There’s Pembrooke and your proverbial dragons, of course. And, I’m also adding the matter of my clothing to the stay column.”

“Your clothing?” he asked, puzzled.

She nodded, pulling back. “The outfit I wore that day I found your medallion,” she said, her zeal growing with each word. “I realized it’s gone, lost in the fire or sea, maybe that’s a sign.”

Aidan smiled without hesitation, but inside, his fear returned, taking a vise-like hold. “Well, there you have it,” he said with false cheer. “Something positive after all.”

“Yeah, I think I can see a bright rosy future with a keep full of our children, and the House of Pembrooke carrying on in fated glory.”

She seemed completely satisfied now with this rationale, and fell asleep a short time later, in the circle of his arms. He held her for hours, banishing the thought prickling the back of his mind. He had that bundle of clothes in his possession, plucked from the pile he’d given to be laundered in Ayr, just before it had been whisked away. He stroked her hair and brushed his lips to her forehead as the sky grew to its darkest, and slipped from their bed only once, stoking the fire with a couple hours yet to spare. Brianna was still sound asleep when he stepped into the latrine, but only a moment or two later when he walked back into their chamber, she was up and quite obviously unnerved. Before he could alert her to his presence, she cried out, and in her sleepy state, fell with a thud from the bed. Aidan raced to her side, lifting her from the floor .

“I would never leave without saying goodbye to you,” he told her, holding her tight.

She didn’t say anything, but he felt her tears as she clutched him back.

“I don’t want to go, Brianna. But I must.”

“I know,” she whispered, clearly trying to keep the emotion from her voice, downplaying her reaction. “I just panicked.”

Aye. It was hard to forget all that she’d lost, those instincts ingrained from such an early age. “It’s still very early, and I would love to lay down with you and hold you while we have the time.”

She nodded but motioned to the latrine where he had just come from. He looked at her arm, “Do you need help?” he asked.

She shook her head, but he was waiting beside the bed when she returned anyway, and helped her up before crawling in beside her, careful not to jostle her injured wrist. Immediately, she pressed herself against him, wedging her leg between his. He was glad for it, in truth, he couldn’t hold her close enough. She was quiet for so long he thought she might have fallen back asleep, but then she whispered, “It’s going to be okay, right?”

“Without a doubt.”