Chapter 13
CHAPTER 13
Brianna stayed in her quarters for the rest of the afternoon, recovering from and processing the incident on deck. Although the encounter itself had been short-lived, and the man who’d endangered Kitty was no longer a threat, Brianna found herself having a hard time getting over the trauma of it. She knew she and Kitty were safe, but as she’d been learning lately, knowing something, and feeling it, were two entirely different concepts.
After Henry had escorted her below deck and made sure that she and Kitty were settled comfortably, he’d pointed to an area just beyond her door where he said she’d be able to find him whenever she needed. He’d been about to leave when Brianna had called out to him to wait, wanting to thank him. When he turned and looked at her, however, a fresh rush of tears prickled at her eyes, and she could only mouth the words as her throat clogged with emotion. His nod was curt, but his eyes were brimming with warmth and understanding.
It was almost ironic. When she’d asked Henry to escort her above deck earlier, it had been an act of bravery on her part, eager as she’d been to prove to herself that there was nothing to be afraid of on this ship. And, she’d been curious to see what it would feel like, to be sailing as an adult, looking out at the open sea. Brianna remembered how it had inspired awe in her as a child, but honestly, she’d never thought she’d revisit it again. Ever. Nervous, timid even, she’d kept her focus on the ship itself, trying to admire the detailed woodwork while gathering the courage to stand at the railing. Henry was behind her, but clearly not close enough, because as she’d been watching one of the sailors coil a rope, she was caught off balance by a blow to her chest. She’d been so stunned by it, that it took a second to realize that Kitty had been ripped from her carrier. Frantically, Brianna had looked around until she saw Kitty, squirming and writhing in the arms of a man with a crazed look in his eyes—and who was clearly afraid or maybe superstitious of cats. As terrified as she’d been, Brianna felt an overwhelming rage take hold, and Henry had had to hold her back, with repeated assurances to her that Kitty would be returned. In between his efforts to keep her calm, Henry had also warned the sailor who’d snatched Kitty that he was making a horrible mistake. His words had been so carefully metered, but when it became clear that the man wouldn’t listen to reason, Henry’s tone changed. In a voice that would have scared her hair straight if she hadn’t already had a Keratin treatment, he told the sailor that Kitty was a beloved companion to Sinclair—and the House of Pembrooke as if Aidan had descended from the most powerful dynasty on earth, and was now keeper of the realm.
Brianna had been so floored by the whole thing—it was like she’d suddenly been thrust onto a movie set just as the gauntlet had been thrown down, and the battle of good vs. evil was about to commence. Good grief, she’d almost looked up to see if the dragons had been released! When Henry whispered to her again, however, it was to say, with utmost confidence, that the man would be punished (or was it ‘killed’? She really couldn’t recall, nor would she, if pressed), Brianna sobered instantly, realizing that as crazy as this new reality was, and it was borderline insane—it was hers, and it was crucial that she stay focused.
It was then that she spotted Aidan, quickly making his way around the crowd that had gathered. When he reached them, Brianna saw him share a brief look with Henry as he moved steadily, determinedly, furiously toward the man holding Kitty. Henry had bent down to Brianna to tell her he had to step away for a moment so he could retrieve her pet, lest she be harmed or dropped when Aidan felled the man. At first, Brianna thought he was exaggerating, but no, that’s really what happened. It was all over so quickly, that she’d barely had time to blink (let alone think about what she’d heard less than a minute before), and then Henry was back, and Kitty was tucked safely into her arms. At that point, all of her attention was on her dear kitten, and Brianna looked her over carefully, grateful she seemed okay. She was shaken, yes, but hopefully, she’d forget about the incident with her next bout of purrs.
It wasn’t until Henry closed the door after her silent thanks that a wave of exhaustion hit her. Brianna rubbed her chest, wincing a little at the tenderness she found there. All she wanted to do was lie down and cuddle Kitty, but she wasn’t sure she’d actually be able to relax. So, she compromised and sat down on the edge of the bed, Kitty in her lap, and listened with an open ear, hoping to hear Aidan’s heavy steps headed her way.
Hours later, she was still waiting, with supper already come and gone. A tray had been delivered to her room, and she’d eaten as much of her meal (far better than she expected considering they were on a ship) as she’d been able to. Still rattled from the afternoon, and worried that she hadn’t seen Aidan since, she wasn’t very hungry, and pushed most of it around on her plate, feeding bits to Kitty. Brianna looked at the door again, wishing for the hundredth time Aidan was standing on the other side. She knew this unusual (for her) attachment she was feeling was premature, maybe even irrational, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t real, or she could pretend it didn’t exist. Whatever it was, she couldn’t help but feel like he was avoiding her, though she couldn’t figure out why.
Finally, Brianna decided she’d had enough. She’d spent most of her life keeping people at bay, doing her best not to feel, or at least not let it show when she did, but with Aidan—a man she’d known for all of (or barely) a day and a half—she was beginning to wonder if there was an off switch. It seemed impossible even to her, but what wasn’t at this point? She and Aidan had a connection—that couldn’t be denied, though whether it was just basic human attraction or on a level more supernatural, she had no idea, and didn’t think it mattered. But because of it, Brianna was somehow tuned into his frequency, and she just had this feeling he was struggling with something—something bigger than rescuing her cat or making sure she made it to Dunhill safely. She wasn’t trying to claim that she was suddenly so evolved and emotionally mature that she knew what he was struggling with, but she was pretty certain that whatever it was, Aidan was having his own 2.0 experience. And though she was recently getting the hang of this relating-to-other-people thing, that was something she knew about. If he felt only a fraction of the emotional roller-coaster that she’d been feeling, well, this fifteenth-century Highland Laird was in for the ride of his life.
After making sure Kitty was safe and secure in the little area where she’d sectioned off a pen of sorts, Brianna got up and strode to the door. On the other side, Henry greeted her and smiled warmly, as if he hadn’t been standing there for long hours, with, by the looks of it, nothing to do.
“I’d like to go up to the deck again,” she said, steadying herself with a breath. “I’d like to find him. Aidan, I mean.”
He seemed pleased by her statement, and if he noticed her faltering, didn’t say anything about it, just helped her up the step-like ladder. He stayed close behind her until it was clear that she had not only found her balance but wasn’t showing signs of having a trauma response to being back on deck, then gave her some breadth and backed up two whole steps.
Once up top, she carefully scanned the area and was relieved that the sympathetic gestures that had been cast her way earlier were now replaced with sure nods and smiles. Another benefit to spending most of your time with books and artifacts: they don’t fix you with pitying stares after you embarrass yourself in front of them. The deck was full, but there was no sign of Aidan. After looking past the captain again, on tiptoe this time, and still coming up empty, Brianna turned her sights to the prow of the ship. The relief she felt when she saw him, standing there, at the bow staring out at sea, was a bit staggering.
The sun had just dipped over the horizon as she came up beside him, standing close enough to feel the rustle of his cloak against her dress. That in itself was a thrill she hadn’t been expecting, or one she’d ever experienced before. She said nothing but felt him shift half an inch closer to her as she placed her hands on the railing and stared ahead, too. It really was a gorgeous sight. They stayed that way, quiet for a few minutes until he finally spoke.
“Seeing you fret over Kitty earlier,” he began slowly, measuring his words, “realizing we had allowed someone of such ill character within our ranks…we do not subscribe to such.”
Brianna understood what he meant, fifteenth-century speak wasn’t all that difficult to follow, even if you didn’t already know the language as well as she did, but she was becoming increasingly aware of how the words carried a different weight. Regardless of this unexpected learning curve, the one thing that Brianna was sure of was that Aidan Sinclair was a man of integrity, and didn’t mince his words. He said what he meant, so it was clear that this blight had truly taken its toll on him. She wasn’t sure if her visceral reaction was to what he’d said, or simply to him, but she found that all the other noise in her head was gone, quieted once she saw him. She’d planned to ask if that was why he’d been avoiding her all day—guilt over bringing the man aboard—but when she turned and found him already waiting, eager even, to look into her eyes, his earlier anger gone, she wanted only to reassure him.
“In the short time that I’ve known you, Aidan Sinclair, that has become blazingly clear.”
Aidan nodded. “I’m humbled by your ready defense, still, I wish you did not have to endure what that man put you through today.”
That she really and truly felt for him, when she’d barely before felt for herself, softened her reply from its typically dry delivery. “That makes two of us.”
His grunt was subtle, as well as the slight movement of his chin bobbing, but he said nothing. After a moment, he reached out, as if to brush some hair from her face, though she was sure there were no errant strands to speak of. Still, she closed her eyes and covered his hand, letting the comfort of its weight flow through her. Brianna 2.0 was bolder, seemingly more mature. At least with Aidan. They shared a cautious smile, and she let her hand fall away. He did too, but only after he placed the imaginary strand behind her ear.
“When I realized you’d ventured above board of your own accord, I felt…” he let his words trail off, then shrugged. “Mayhap this will sound untimely or surprising, but ’twas pride, I felt. No easy feat, considering your experience, Brianna.”
Brianna returned his shrug, glad that their easy, friendly energy of earlier seemed like it might return. “Well, I did have Henry lumbering close behind,” she said and smiled.
“Aye, he does that.” His smile reached his eyes this time.
“I only came up to see how it would feel to look out at the vast, open sea, but I never even had the chance to do that. My eyes went straight to Kitty, and I never saw beyond her.”
Sweeping his arm out toward the ocean, Aidan gestured that she do so now. She hesitated, and he encouraged her with a look and a nod. Taking a deep breath, Brianna turned and placed her hands on the railing, fixing her gaze on the water. As she did so, she felt him step closer still.
“And now?” he asked .
“I see a sunset so beautiful and so peaceful it hardly seems real. Even the water appears tranquil.” She just stood there staring, and breathing.
“Aye…” He trailed off again, and Brianna heard a small sigh escape him. If he wasn’t such a formidable presence, she would have thought he was nervous. After a moment, she caught Aidan turning to her in her periphery, waiting until she looked up at him. His expression was one of concern, and when he spoke again, his tone was so sincere. “I would not ask, save for your very own words just moments ago, so, now I wonder, how it feels .”
She was surprised he’d paid such close attention to what she’d said, and, that he’d picked up on the fact that she hadn’t answered his question. A question, she realized now, that he’d truly asked in earnest. It was a big ask, even for this 2.0 version of herself.
At her hesitation, he nodded, and made a small barely perceptible sound, then looked back to the sea as if to show her. “When I look out, I feel measured and unencumbered, even with a world of pressing matters.”
Her heart broke a little at his words, sentiments that reminded her of her father, always so happy to leave everything behind, so he could focus on his family. She took a deep breath, gathering a bit more courage, maybe, she considered, even pulling some from Aidan, and when she looked back out at the vast waters this time, she allowed a rush of emotion to hit her, and she shook her head. It took her a moment before she was able to speak. “I feel sad…when I look out, I remember them, and I can feel how good it was.” She swiped away a tear, she didn’t want to cry and wasn’t trying to draw Aidan’s attention. “And it reminds me that once they were gone, I never felt it again.”
“Brianna—”
“No, it’s okay.” She turned to him. “Who am I to think I should’ve had more? I’m lucky for the time we were together.” She shook her head, suddenly filled with remorse. “Until a few days ago, I never even let myself think of them, not really, not to remember…or feel that essence of our family… here .” Her hand covered her heart and she felt like it was all suddenly unraveling, that the carefully protected shell she’d encased her deepest wound inside was cracking. Or maybe she was the one unraveling, feeling safe and protected in Aidan’s presence, at least enough to be vulnerable.
She took a deep breath and continued, “I’m not sure I would’ve ever faced this,” she said, waving her hand at her surroundings, “boarding a ship, sailing the open sea. I’m not sure my courage would have ever been put to the test like it has today…like it has this entire week.” She searched his eyes then, wondering how or if to broach what she’d almost blurted out on the longboat. She’d been so desperate then, feeling as if her life was coming to an end, but now she wasn’t so sure anymore.
“I would welcome your thoughts, whatever they might be,” he said, seeming to sense her hesitation. “I realize I have failed you already, but you will never find a more loyal subject.”
She had never met anyone who spoke with such depth, let alone spoke to her like that. And, although she’d never before allowed anyone close enough, Brianna was certain, it would have changed nothing—because she hadn’t been ready to receive it. If not for the sequence of events that had led her to Dunhill Manor last week, and all of those that followed, she could not have opened herself up before this, and certainly, not like this . Yet, as she stood on the prow of what was surely one of the grandest vessels of its time, sailing across the open waters of the Irish Sea, Brianna was suddenly absolutely certain that fate had indeed taken her where she was meant to go. Toward this man, who regarded her with such reverence, and who moved her so deeply.
She placed her hand on his chest, leaning in ever so slightly. “You did not fail me, Aidan,” she said, speaking firmly, and not allowing herself to falter. “I believe that you, and this place, are my destiny.”
At this, she saw his eyes widen for a split second before he knelt in front of her and bowed his head. “And I would seal our fate.” His words were spoken like a solemn oath, and although she had no idea what their future might hold, she knew from that moment on, they would somehow be tied together forever.