Chapter 2
CHAPTER 2
Scotland 1433
Judith Fitzgerald would make a fine bride, of that Aidan Sinclair was sure. The question he kept asking himself, however, was whether she would make a fine bride for him . Her brothers had approached him with the prospect upon his latest return from Abersoch, and while he hadn’t outright disagreed with the match, he’d told them he’d consider it. But that was months ago, and now they were growing impatient for an answer.
Until recently, Aidan had had little interaction with the Fitzgerald brothers, though he’d enjoyed a friendly rapport with their father, Robert when he was alive. Aidan and the elder Fitzgerald had shared a mutual respect borne out of circumstance when he and his brethren—Gavin, Lachlan, and Dar—first set to secure the Montgomery holdings. Discovering that their travels would be most expedient with the use of Fitzgerald land, Lachlan and Robert Fitzgerald had agreed to terms. Sadly, Robert had passed the previous winter, and within a near breath of his burial, his two sons sought a new arrangement.
Their motivation was obvious. The Fitzgerald brothers hoped to exploit Aidan’s newfound influence, power he now wielded having stepped into Lachlan’s shoes. Not to mention that which he gained while attending to matters at Abersoch, an endeavor he was honored to be a part of. An esteemed reputation that served him well among the locals and along the border both, the latter ofttimes rife with skirmishes. While their travels for the most part were by land, on occasion, Aidan and his brethren made use of one of Greylen’s ships, a journey rife with its own set of complications. His efforts were fixed on the completion of the Montgomery stronghold, well ahead of schedule, Aidan didn’t want to jeopardize what now felt like a tenuous alliance with the zealous pair. Nor did he like the idea of creating further far-reaching problems with the misguided men who aligned with them. It was the only reason he hadn’t flat-out refused.
He read the brothers’ latest correspondence again, a lengthy (and altogether unnecessary) lecture filled with presumption and censure. Concluding a lesson in restraint would serve them both well, Aidan tossed it aside with a grunt.
“Sir.”
Aidan peered across the antechamber that had become his study of sorts, where Henry stood sentinel by the doorway.
“’Tis fine, Henry,” he said, and Henry, who was one of the three men who had become his shadow upon Lachlan’s departure to the future, nodded and awaited further instruction.
There was still much to do, at present another journey to Abersoch, so thoughts of entertaining a marriage to appease the Fitzgerald brothers would have to wait. Aidan clapped his man’s shoulder as he passed, knowing Henry would fall in step exactly two paces behind.
As Aidan made his way through the grand hall, he couldn’t help but notice how quiet it was for early afternoon. Not that Pembrooke was ever teeming with inhabitants (at least not like Seagrave or Dunhill Proper), but the absolute lack of anyone walking the halls now was cause for notice. While the estate was modest in size, it was nicely appointed and well cared for. As such, a handful of capable staff—a cook and chambermaid who had worked for Lachlan, and Aidan’s steward, to name a few—were always scuttling about, quick with warm smiles and friendly chatter. It was something Aidan always enjoyed when in residence with Lachlan throughout the years, the calm and quiet, and the warmth within these walls. Truth be told, Aidan had oft found himself in wonder at just how well these walls suited him, even before they’d been bequeathed to him. Not only the manor itself, but the land it rested upon, and the loch which surrounded much of it. Today, however, that quiet was a distraction. That, and the extra scrutiny he was sure Henry was giving him as they continued through the hall.
“Henry?”
“Aye,” his man said, serene as ever.
“What are you keeping from me? I realize I’m often absent but even a half-wit would notice something’s amiss in the halls.”
Henry paused, which itself was unusual. He was nothing if not alacritous and to the point. “They’re worried,” he said, then paused again, putting Aidan on alert. “Fairly, Judith Fitzgerald might make a fine future mistress of Pembrooke, but her brothers…” Henry paused again, then gave a small grunt before continuing. “The Fitzgerald brothers have recently incurred a questionable reputation for themselves.”
Before receiving the letter from the Fitzgeralds, Aidan hadn’t been aware of any reputation of the brothers, good or bad, but their tone in their latest correspondence had made it clear they were very keen to levy this new taste of power bestowed upon them with their father’s passing.
Aidan turned to look his man in the eye. “ I wasn’t aware of their true characters until now, so where did this worry come from?”
“The missive you reread only moments ago has been seen by all, sir.”
“Ah.”
The Fitzgeralds’ new standing as untested men of influence was no secret, mayhap not common knowledge, but still. And now, Aidan vividly recalled leaving their missive right atop his desk, obviously in clear view. Mindful of its contents, he made his way to the kitchen where he found his staff, heads all bent together in nervous chatter near the exterior doors. Aidan, adept at moving quietly and always with precision, had to clear his throat to make his presence known. The staff whirled around as one, and upon seeing their fretful expressions, Aidan did his best to reassure them.
“Pembrooke is sacred to me,” he said, hand in the air to wave away any concern. “And when I say Pembrooke, I mean all that it encompasses, which includes each and every one of you. As such, rest assured, your future mistress, whomever she is, will be a worthy addition.”
He looked at the assembled pointedly as he said this, stressing the “whomever” to make his point. Their bright eyes and quick smiles were instantaneous and thus satisfied, Aidan made way for the courtyard, his original destination.
What he’d told his staff was the truth. Aidan had always considered Pembrooke sacred. Much of that had to do with Lachlan, whom he held in high esteem. Two years had passed since Aidan had last seen him, but he could still recall the moment he realized that he wasn’t merely losing Dar, one of his closest friends, but his lifelong mentor, too.
Dar’s plan had always been to return to the future with Celeste, and Aidan had never been so foolish to consider otherwise. But Celeste’s unexpected departure (taking with her the sword which they’d assumed at the time was the only key between their centuries) had been difficult to bear. It wasn’t until later, when clearer heads prevailed, that they realized there was still a way for Dar to get to his wife, but neither portal on the property at Abersoch held much appeal. One required a jump from high up on the rock wall, and the other lay somewhere within the tunnels, its precise location still unknown. Surprisingly, it was Gwen, Greylen’s wife, who told them of yet another portal, one that was much less dangerous and didn’t include a literal leap of faith (a leap she feared Lachlan wouldn’t survive), but instead a dip into the tide pools.
Privy to this new and welcome information, plans were made, and quickly—so quickly that Aidan hadn’t time to fully understand what their success meant. In the short time they’d had left together, Lachlan had implored him to make Pembrooke his own, not only to care for and protect those under his charge, but to safeguard the portal, lest someone accidentally find it, or worse, destroy it. It was an honor that Aidan didn’t take lightly. It wasn’t until that last day, though, after Dar and Lachlan vanished before his eyes, that a sense of finality pervaded. When Aidan had first joined the men on their quest to secure the Abersoch property, he’d been an eager and dedicated participant, never once imagining he would ultimately assume control.
It had taken Aidan what remained of that summer to fully grasp what this transfer of power truly meant. He’d returned home to speak with his elder brother, Rhys, and to inform him of his plans. While Rhys hadn’t been thrilled at Aidan’s decision to all but abdicate his familial duties, he understood the gravity of Aidan’s new position and the authority he’d assumed. Rhys also had immense respect for Lachlan and accepted that this was his brother’s destiny. “The mantle suits,” he’d said grasping Aidan’s shoulder. With his blessing, Aidan felt a great weight lift and his focus shifted in earnest. Nearly two years had passed since then, and with the core structure of the castle at last complete, Gavin and Isabelle could soon make Abersoch their home, thus ensuring their own descendants’ future.
As Aidan stepped through the front doors now, his hand brushed the Celtic knot that one of Lachlan’s men had carved deeply into the stone years before, casting Lachlan as watchman and protector, and Pembrooke sanctuary of such. A circular knot had been added around it since, as a symbolic gesture to mark the literal title that had been transferred to Aidan those two summers ago when Dar and Lachlan…left.
Aidan stopped atop the steps, flanked by the other two of Lachlan’s men, Alan and Richard, as a rider approached bearing Montgomery colors. After Henry retrieved the missive from the courier Aidan cracked the seal, reading Gavin’s message. “Our plans have changed,” Aidan said, staring out over the horizon. “We head west, to Seagrave.”