Chapter 2
CHAPTER TWO
“There ye are, me darlin’ braithers.”
A high-pitched, lilting voice sliced through the tension like a knife as Ayla breezed into the room. She beamed at her brothers, completely ignoring the councilmen who stood in the room with them.
It was only when she got closer, pulling both Arthur and Joseph into a tight hug, that Arthur noticed the tightness around her eyes and felt the tremors in her shoulders. Ayla had noticed the tension in the room and had chosen to ignore it.
“We’re dirty,” Arthur grunted, a half-hearted protest as his sister wrapped her arms around him.
“Ye’re always dirty.” She chuckled. “As long as I can remember, ye’ve always been covered in dirt or muck. Hasnae stopped me before.”
She pulled back, holding Arthur at arm’s length as she studied him. He wondered what she saw on his face, the new scars and a new level of hardness that many years of war had wrought.
Ayla dropped her arms, her eyes flicking to Joseph before she moved and wrapped her arms around him. While she was busy fawning over him, Arthur turned his attention back to the councilmen.
His anger, which just moments ago had threatened to get the better of him, had ebbed. He fixed an icy gaze on them.
“I will summon ye when ye’re needed.”
He stared the men down, daring them to say more, pouring every bit of confidence and power into his gaze that he could muster.
Thankfully, the councilmen said nothing further.
One by one, they began filing past, the swish of their kilts and the stomping of their boots on stone filling the air as they made their way toward the door.
McKellen was the only one to stall. He regarded Arthur with an openly curious expression.
What will he do when, in a week, I dinnae present a bride?
But Arthur made sure those doubts did not cross his face. His shoulders remained squared, staring back at McKellen until he finally followed the other council members and exited the castle.
The tension in Arthur’s shoulders immediately eased. But just as the sigh of relief escaped his lips, Ayla was on him again.
“Where is she? When can I meet her?” she asked, the words tumbling from her lips almost faster than he could make sense of them. “How did ye meet? Oh, I’ve dreamed of this day, of finally havin’ a sister, for so long. I bet she’s bonnie. Is she bonnie?”
Ayla stared at him, her blue eyes shining brighter than the sky. All Arthur could do was cock his head at her and give a very clear, very eloquent, “What?”
His sister’s eyebrows knitted together, and she cocked her head. “Yer bride,” she answered, her tone indicating that she thought it would be obvious.
But last time Arthur checked, he didn’t have a betrothed.
He glanced over his shoulder, his gaze landing immediately on Joseph. For what it was worth, his brother looked just as confused as he was.
Joseph shrugged, his massive shoulders rising and falling as if to say that he was just as lost as Arthur was.
Turning his attention back to Ayla, Arthur found her still staring. Her grey eyes darted between him and Joseph, noting their confusion and staring at them as if she were trying to work out all of Heaven’s secrets.
“Ye dinnae have to pretend,” she said. But for the first time, a flicker of doubt joined the confusion written so clearly on her face. “We’ve seen the letters. We ken all about her.”
“What letters?” Arthur asked, shaking his head to clear the muddied thoughts that had taken root. “Ayla, I dinnae ken what the council was on about. There is nay bride. I’ve been at war for five years—when would I have had time to court a lass?”
It was Ayla’s turn to shake her head. “If there isnae a bride, how do ye explain these?”
Without another word, she stepped forward and grabbed her brother’s wrist. Her grip was light, and the tug to follow after her was gentle.
Arthur knew it would take nothing for him to break free of her grip. And there was a part of him that wanted to, a part of him that wanted to simply dig his heels into the ground and refuse to follow until she explained everything.
But there was a much bigger part of him that wanted to follow her. Something was afoot, that much was clear.
When the councilmen were badgering him, he had considered every possible scenario. He’d thought that maybe someone had seen him entertaining a lass in a pub when he’d taken a bit of a break from the war. Rumors could travel like that.
Given his father’s reputation, he couldn’t blame anyone for being wary if word had spread like that. But his sister was so insistent and so convinced, and she had claimed that there were letters to back everything up.
There was much more to this story than the rumblings of the rumor mill. Arthur could feel it in his bones. And he was determined to get to the bottom of it.
So, he followed his sister without complaint or protest. Joseph’s footsteps sounded behind him, letting him know that his brother was with him as well.
How did everythin’ get so mixed up? How does everyone think I have a bride when I’ve been tryin’ nae to die for the last five years?
They traveled the familiar corridors, the comfort of home washing over him while his mind ran through what had occurred since the moment he’d walked back through the door. Slowly, the turns they made began to make sense.
“Me study?” he asked as they stopped in front of the door. “What are we doin’ at me study?”
“It’s where I left all the letters,” Ayla explained, her tone once again indicating that she thought that would be obvious. “I was certain ye’d want to read the ones that didnae make it to the camp when ye returned. So, I always brought them here.”
Sure enough, the moment she threw the door open, Arthur spotted exactly what she was talking about.
His oak desk sat in the center of the room, just as it always had. The fireplace, which he used to love lighting while he worked late into the night, sat cold. The ashes that once littered it were replaced with dust and cobwebs.
Nay one has worked in here the entire time I’ve been gone.
It was that more than anything that made the passage of time begin to weigh on his shoulders. Aside from the letters and the fireplace, it seemed like no time had passed at all.
Without them, it would almost be like the war had never happened. As if the things he’d seen, the things he’d done, had held no meaning.
Ignoring that thought, Arthur strode confidently forward and approached the desk. He stared down at the letters, eyes roving over the carefully folded parchment.
Beneath the folds, he spotted a delicate, feminine script dancing across the pages. Without giving it a second thought, he plucked one of the letters off the top and unfolded it.
Eyes skimming over the page, words began to jump out at him.
My beloved, I cannot wait for the day when we are together once more…
My dearest betrothed, I dream of the time when we are finally wed, able to live as man and wife…
My love…
My dream of us…
My hope…
My betrothed.
One after the other, Arthur read them. The platitudes and sweet words were all similar.
With each one he skimmed, the picture that had been painted for everyone else had become clear. He understood their confusion when he claimed there was no bride.
How could they not?
The words contained within these pages were so intimate, so filled with affection that if he read enough of them, they might have convinced him that he’d been mistaken.
If he did not know any better, Arthur could nearly convince himself that there was someone he was betrothed to and had simply forgotten about.
But he knew the truth.
The rustling of parchment drew his attention, and he glanced up to see Joseph plucking another letter off the pile and unfolding it.
“What is this lass on about?” Joseph asked.
Even though his brother wasn’t looking at him, Arthur shook his head. “I dinnae ken,” he admitted.
But even as Arthur said the words, an idea had started to form in his mind.
The council thinks I am like me faither. Mayhap this will give me a chance to prove that I am nae.
Joseph and Ayla were watching him closely, confusion plain on their faces.
“Well, what are ye goin’ to do about it?” Ayla prompted.
A confident grin tugged up the corners of Arthur’s mouth. “I think I’m goin’ to claim me bride.”