Leora
“Is Alban back yet?” Dorie whispered. We were sitting together on the sofa in the front room of Alban’s house under our guard’s watchful eye.
“Not yet,” I whispered back, directing a worried look toward the house’s front window.
It was covered by two heavy curtains drawn tight across it, but even without the sight confirmation, I knew it was way past late afternoon—the time Alban had said he would return. And well over an hour had passed since the church bells tolled in the distance. An ominous five times.
I couldn’t take it anymore. I stood up, only to immediately be shouted down by Hamish Scotswolf, the large, older man who’d turned out to be Alban’s father.
“Are you daft?” he demanded from the oversized wing chair he’d positioned right in front of the receiving room’s door.
“Did ye nae hear the ringing of the lockdown bells? Yer fortunate I’m letting the two of ye sit out here with me.
Get back in your seat and stay quiet as I told ye an hour ago, or I’ll send you upstairs! ”
As if to emphasize his point, he stood up from the chair and informed me, “House guest or not, the shotgun’s still within easy reach.”
I pressed my lips together. Would Hamish really resort to gun violence if I attempted to peep out the curtains he’d pulled tight across the front window after the bells finished tolling?
He’d stood down easily enough earlier that morning. Not because I’d told him we were guests of Alban. He’d scoffed at that claim.
“I find that ludicrously hard to believe,” he’d said without lowering the gun even an inch. “The lad hasn’t glanced twice at a she-wolf since Gail ran off on him.”
“Who’s Gail?” Dorie had asked as if giving voice to my own question.
Hamish had narrowed his eyes at us. “Ye claim to be guests of my son’s, but ye nary a clue about the she-wolf who left him for a city male? How am I supposed to believe you’re not dress-nabbing thieves who broke into m’house to steal all—ooh, were you about to make breakfast, then?”
Hamish had broken off his accusation when he noticed the basket of eggs in my hands. Then he’d lowered the gun and asked, “Got room in your skillet for one more plate before you’re finished ransacking m’house?”
And that was how I’d ended up making breakfast for both Dorie and Alban’s father.
As I’d cooked, Hamish had chatted with Dorie on a wide-ranging variety of topics.
How to properly care for chickens. How cold it got in Scotland in comparison to Prince Edwards Island.
How we were probably the only she-wolves who’d ever stepped foot in the Brother’s Cottage since its erection.
How “posh” it was now compared to when he’d been the Kingdom Defender in residence.
“I lived there for all the years Alban was abroad without plumbing or hot water. Mebbe still would be living there if Alban hadn’t dragged me back to town because he thought I’d gone off my head like a rocket.”
Hamish had screwed up his mouth as if the memory had left a bad taste in his mouth as I set a breakfast plate down in front of him.
“I tell ye, I’m still not convinced that wasn’t a trick on my son’s part.
What do they call them in all the heist films—a long con—aye, it might have been of those.
A few years of having me back in our town house and suddenly he’s the one off to Brother’s Cottage for weeks at a time—fixing up the place.
Or so he claimed.” Hamish had made double quotation marks with his fingers.
“And, I’m getting up there to the foolish age.
So, I believed him all the way up until he announced that he’d be taking over Brother’s Cottage hisself—holy feck, that’s tasty! ”
Hamish had cut short his diatribe to stuff his mouth full of eggs and toast. And when he’d finished, he’d asked, “Wanna make lunch for us, too, then? I’d bet ye’d do me better than the Marmite sandwiches I’ve been subsisting on since my son decided he just had to take his turn as the Scotswolf recluse.
Give me a list and I’ll have a run to the grocer’s before he closes for the day on account of the wedding. ”
The thought of Hamish only eating that dark paste for both breakfast and lunch had made me sick to my heart.
And, of course, I’d jumped at the chance to fully restock his kitchen before I left for the castle.
I’d ordered a bunch of staples that he could use after I left.
And I’d been painstakingly writing down every simple recipe I could think of when the bells began their ominous toll pattern.
As soon as it had become clear that there would be no sixth bell, Hamish had ordered Dorie and me to the couch with an order of, “Sit there, and don’t say a word—not one peep—until the all-clear sounds.”
That had been over an hour ago, and I was beginning to wonder if any all-clear would be forthcoming from the eerily quiet world outside the house.
“I’m not trying to cause you any trouble,” I said to Hamish, glancing nervously at the gun propped up against his wing chair. “But …”
Dorie jumped up to inform him, “We’re bored of just sitting here! Why did they ring the lockdown bells in the first place, anyway?”
I clapped a hand over my daughter’s mouth. “Let me handle this!” I whispered under my breath.
But to my surprise, Hamish answered, “Oh, could be any number of things …”
He settled back into his seat. “Got some cattle they need to run down the streets mebbe. Or mebbe, they’re planning some kind of procession for that sister of yours after her big wedding to the king. Could also be the Irish Wolves have decided to invade again.”
“Hold on.” I scrunched my brow, wondering if I’d heard right. “My sister got married?”
At the same time, Dorie asked, “Invading? That word means the same as attacking, right? The Irish Wolves attacked the Scottish Wolves in real history—not just in the wooden swords game?”
“Aye, that’s exactly what they did back in 1503!” Hamish answered Dorie. “But dinnae worry your head about it, lassie. That was a verrae long time ago. More likely, it’s some nonsense with that wedding of your aunt’s that took place earlier today.”
“My sister got married?” I asked again. “Today? Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
Hamish shrugged. “Figured there had to be a reason you chose to stay over with my grinch of a son as opposed to attending your own sister’s wedding.
I hate all that pomp and circumstance meself, and I know Alban does too.
That’s why I chucked our invitations to the royal wedding as soon as they came in the mail. ”
Chucked. I was still way out in left field when it came to Scottish terms, but I deduced that word had to mean “threw in the trash.” Which meant there was a good chance Alban hadn’t known about the wedding when he left.
Still …
I headed for the door with a, “Come on, Dorie. Hurry. We need to get to the castle.”
“Late is better than never!” As she followed me to the door, Dorie parroted a line I’d often used when we were running behind on our long daily to-do list.
“But the bells have rung for lockdown,” Hamish insisted, blocking our path. “As the former Kingdom Defender, I cannae let you disobey the town rules—whatever the silly reason is for them.”
Hamish was my elder. And I’d never in my life opened my mouth to argue with an elder. But I blurted out, “I have to see Alban—I mean, my sister.”
My entire face heated with the unintentional slip. “You have to let me go to my sister’s wedding reception. It’s been much, much too long.”
Hamish looked me up and down with a disbelieving look in his still-sharp eyes. “I’m sure your sister will appreciate you staying put until they sound that all-clear. Now, m’lady, Have a seat and wait as I told ye before.”
He waved us back toward the couch with a mocking flourish of his arm. “We wouldnae want your sister getting cheesed at me for not protecting you as I ought.”
I had every right to attend my sister’s wedding reception, but I felt a little silly as I opened my mouth to argue with Hamish about going to the castle.
A pounding knock sounded on the door before I could make my case, though.
Dorie and I jumped, and Hamish went from mocking to serious in an instant, reaching for the shotgun he’d leaned against his chair.
“Get back!” he told us.
“But what if it’s Alban?” Dorie whispered.
“Alban wouldnae knock,” he growled in reply. “Now get back as I told you!”
My heart drumming, I drew Dorie further back into a position where we could escape up the stairs if need be.
Meanwhile, Hamish stalked toward the door with the stealth of a soldier.
With his shotgun raised, he peered through its peephole … only to say, “Oh, it’s just you lot.”
He lowered the gun and opened the door. “S’pose you’re here for Alban’s female, then.”
Alban’s female? My face burst into flames as I rushed to assure Hamish that I was nothing of the sort to his son.
Before I could, though, another female answered Hamish’s blunt non-greeting. “Oh my God, how do you two have electricity but no phone?”
Alban’s father struck a defensive pose to answer, “Wouldnae even bother with electricity if Alban dinnae need it for his strange job from the States.”
“How about for common decency, then?” the unseen female asked. “You have no idea what we’ve been dealing with at the castle—how scared we were, and we had no way of getting in contact with you!”
As they argued, my heart leaped. I knew that voice! It had been over a decade since I’d heard it. And it sounded much older than the teenager I used to chide for looking up naughty words in the store’s dictionary, but I recognized it all the same.
“Tara!” I called out, rushing toward the door.
“Oh my God, Leora? Is that you?” An arm colored the same light brown as mine reached out to shove Hamish out of the way.
And suddenly, my little sister was standing before me in a fine white dress with a tartan wrapped around it,
Only she wasn’t so little anymore. The wedding regalia and the size of her stomach let me know Tara had not only grown up but also fallen heavily pregnant.
I barely had time to register all the changes before she waddled forward and wrapped me up in a bear hug. “Oh my God! Oh my
God! I’m so glad you’re safe! I can’t believe Alban kept you from me this whole time. It must have been beyond awful and boring being trapped with him.”
It hadn’t been awful or boring. The opposite, in fact. But before I could defend my reluctant savior, Tara said, “I’m so glad he kept you away from the wedding though. That was the only good thing that happened tonight. Thank God, you’re safe.”
Tara’s voice cracked with tears. “I can’t believe you're here. What a miracle! I didn’t know if I’d ever see you again.”
Tears sprung to my eyes too as I hugged Tara back. I couldn’t believe I was here either. Or that I’d delayed our long overdue reunion with my petty insecurities. I didn’t realize how much I’d truly missed her until we were back in each other’s arms.
It had been over a decade since I last saw Tara, and I was torn between wanting to take in every single detail of her face and hugging her so tight, I'd never have to let her go again.
In the end, Dorie made the choice for me.
“Hi, Aunt Tara,” she said, tugging on my sister’s tartan. “I’m your niece. May I have a hug too?”
Tara and I pulled back from each other with a watery laugh, and that’s when I noticed the male standing in the still-open doorway with Hamish.
This had to be her mate, Alban’s cousin. The king of the Scottish Wolves. His hair was an inky black in contrast to Alban’s red, but he wore a fine kilt with a formal-looking jacket. He also had an authoritative air about him as he leaned over and talked quietly to Hamish.
About what? Was Alban all right? Why hadn’t he come here with them? A worm of worry wriggled into the otherwise completely happy feelings lighting up my chest.
“You must be Dorcas,” Tara said, beside me, drawing my attention back to my long-lost sister who was greeting the niece she’d never met.
Tara bent down as far as she could, considering her large stomach. “It’s so nice to finally meet you.”
Dorie pulled a face but somehow managed to hold on to her polite tone when she answered, “Please, call me Dorie.”
Tara laughed and stood back up to her full height. “I don’t blame you. Thank goodness our parents named me after one of Dad’s sisters. My name was the only thing I didn’t change about myself when I left St. Ailbe.”
I wanted to laugh along, but a wave of sadness passed over me as I took in all the changes my sister had undergone.
She’d transformed from the gangly sixteen-year-old I last knew. Her freckles were covered up with make-up, and her hips and formerly flat chest were flared with womanly curves. Even more shocking than that … “You’re taller than me now!”
“Yep!” She proudly preened with her hands on her hips. But then she deflated to confess, “Naomi’s even taller than me, though. So, I guess she wins the height race.”
I perked up at the mention of our younger sister, Naomi. The last time I saw her, she’d been a somewhat abrasive twelve-year-old—actually, she’d seemed to come out of the womb with an adult capacity for stinging wit and sarcasm.
Right before I was wolf-mated, I’d tried to warn my youngest sister that she’d never land a husband if she didn’t learn to mind her tongue.
“Why would I want a husband?” Naomi had asked in the cynical tone of a she-wolf twice her age. “Other than Daed, they all seem like more trouble than they’re worth.”
I couldn’t come up with a logical argument to refute her statement back then, and I was even less capable of doing so now.
Still, it was obvious she’d changed her mind if she was here in Scotland as part of the St. Ailbe’s Bridal Exchange program.
“I can’t wait to see her!” I told Tara.
“Is she as pretty as you?” I asked, even though Wolfennites weren’t supposed to acknowledge vain things like physical beauty.
“Even prettier,” Tara assured me.
But then her voice cracked, and instead of smiling and giving me an update on Naomi, her eyes filled with tears.
“Tara, what’s wrong?” I demanded, a cold sense of dread running through me. “What’s going on with Naomi? And where’s Alban? He promised me he’d take me to meet you himself.”
I swallowed, realizing at the same time that I said it out loud. “And Alban doesn’t strike me as the kind of male who breaks his promises.”
Tara opened her mouth. But nothing came out.
“He isn’t.” Magnus came to stand beside his mate.
He drew her in close to his side as if sensing she needed his strength.
“I’m sad to meet you under these circumstances,” he said to me. “It’s best you sit down for this next part, though. There’s a lot to explain.”