Chapter 8 #2
But Anders held tightly to that bit of knowledge. He might yet need it.
Ailsa finished speaking to the clan’s new guests—or prisoners, she wasn’t certain how she would describe their actual status.
In her mind, they’d done nothing violent that warranted them being considered prisoners, but the dungeon was no place for guests, either.
She didn’t like that they were concealing their clan affiliation, but she could think of many reasons why stranded sailors might be inclined to do so.
To protect themselves. To protect their clan from retaliation for some perceived slight.
But also to conceal a purpose less aboveboard than trying to recover from a storm.
Well, for the time being, they were safe where they were and she would see that they had some comforts. It was the best she knew how to do until her parents returned.
Her brother could be a problem. He probably would be a problem, but Raghnall could help distract him. She hoped.
Stymied, she headed back to the herbal to see how Anders was doing.
The guard stood by the door, his back to the wall, looking bored.
She greeted him, then went inside the herbal and closed the door behind her.
And froze. Anders wasn’t there. Frantic, she whirled around, feeling ridiculous while she looked in every corner and under every table.
She eyed the small window for a moment, then snorted.
There was no way a man Anders’ size could squeeze through that and drop a dangerous distance to the ground below. Yet he’d gotten by the guard.
Or perhaps not.
The guard looked too bored to have known he was guarding an empty chamber.
If he left on a comfort break thinking that Anders was asleep inside, and Anders happened to look out the door while he was gone …
aye, she could see it happening that way.
She mentally retraced her steps. Nothing had seemed unusual in the great hall.
He hadn’t gone that way, which meant he’d made his way to the kitchen.
Cook saw her arrive and came over. “What fashes ye, lass?”
“I, ah, was looking for Anders, but he’s no’ here.”
“He ate a hearty meal a while ago and is walking in the gardens outside with Maesie.”
Relief made Ailsa reach for the nearest tabletop to steady herself.
“Thank goodness.” Chances were good that Boden hadn’t seen him.
Yet. Anders hadn’t wandered out into the bailey or even out of the keep, though the guards, had they noticed him in the usual comings and goings of the clan, would have stopped him. “Thank ye, Cook. I’ll go find them.”
When she stepped out into the sunshine, she paused to let her eyes adjust, then swept the gardens with her gaze.
Anders was impossible to miss, following Maesie through the gate from the orchard back into the main garden.
Not only was he the only man within its walls, taller than the lasses working there, and much taller than Maesie, he had the power to draw her gaze no matter where he was.
Sunlight brought out glints of red in his dark hair, and poured over his broad shoulders.
He looked so perfectly formed, that save for his sun-kissed skin, he could have been carved from marble by some Italian master like the drawings in one of the books in the clan’s library.
Now that he was in her sights, she reminded herself that he could be perfectly irritating, as well. She stalked across the garden path to him. “Hello, Maesie. Anders, what are ye doing out here?” She fought to keep her tone light. Maesie was not at fault in this escapade of his.
“I was just showing Anders around the gardens,” Maesie said, stating the obvious.
“That was kind of ye,” Ailsa told her. “But I need to speak with him. Thank ye for taking care of him.”
Maesie nodded, gave Anders a quick smile, and hurried back to the kitchen.
“Ye are angry.” Anders studied her with that direct gaze that seemed capable of reading her mind.
“I’m … not sure what I am. I was frantic when I didna find ye in the herbal. And even more so with the thought ye might have overpowered the guard and gone to the great hall or outside in the bailey. I’m relieved ye were in Cook’s and Maisie’s company.”
“’Twas nay a problem. The guard was away when I happened to open the door. So, I took advantage of the opportunity. Cook and her helpers were kind, as was Maesie. Lasses always like me, and I them.”
“How do ye ken … never mind.” She frowned at the bemused expression on his face.
That didn’t sound like another memory, just something he knew in the same way he recognized the name Sinclair.
Just how many lasses had he been friendly—or more than just friends—with?
How many had he remembered? An unfamiliar sensation soured Ailsa’s stomach.
Was she jealous? “Lasses talk. Yer appearance here will be all over the keep before the evening meal is served.”
“So, there’s nay reason to stay in the herbal.”
Frustration made her clench her fists. “Ye ignored my caution about showing yerself. When my brother sees that ye are well enough to be out here, he will think ye no longer need Maighread’s care in the herbal.
He will have ye moved to the dungeon and Maighread willna be able to contradict him.
The dungeon is nearly full. Ye willna like being down there among so many strangers. ”
She paused to let that sink in, then added, “And what do ye want me to tell my da, the Laird, about the strange man wandering about Sinclair by himself? I warned ye about this.”
Anders expression changed from confidence to consternation in a blink. “Is he back from the Orkneys?”
“Nay, no’ yet. Soon, I think. But he’s no’ yer problem right now. Boden is. And perhaps those men in the dungeon. Do ye ken someone named Tomas?”
Anders’ face went blank, then he shook his head. “Nay, I dinna think so.”
She huffed out a sigh. Perhaps that was good.
Perhaps not. He might recognize Tomas if he saw him, but if the new strangers were hostile to Anders, she didn’t want them to see him.
“I had hoped to break the news about ye to the laird privately, and to have Maighread with me so we would keep ye out of the dungeon. Ye being out here has made that much more difficult to do.”
He ran a hand through his dark hair, frowning. “I’m sorry lass. I wasna thinking.”
“Mayhap that blow to yer head did more than hide yer memories from ye. It stole yer sense.”
The creases on Anders’s forehead deepened and he shook his head. “An unsettling thought, to be sure.”
“I’ll walk with ye back to the herbal.”
“The guard will think I left with ye. Will that no’ cause a problem for ye with yer brother?”
“Mayhap. I’ll deal with Boden if I must.”
“Ailsa, I am sorry. I …” He looked up, letting the sun hit his face as if it was the last time he’d feel its warmth there.
Ailsa’s heart broke for him. “If I could restore yer memory, I would. If ye kenned where home was and wished to leave, I would help ye. But I canna. All I can do is give ye time to heal and keep ye out of trouble until ye are well.”
“I dinna make it easy.” He gave her a heart-melting smile.
She gave him a laugh in reply. “Ye dinna. But ye already ken I think ye are worth the effort.”
“Ye are worth more to me than anything else I may have.”
She looked him up and down. “Well, the boots are likely worth something, but I’d no’ get much for the clothes.”
He laughed at that, then gestured her forward.
Despite his earlier despair at leaving the garden, he entered the kitchen with a smile on his face.
That made Ailsa feel only a little better.
She was returning him indoors to confinement.
No matter how pleasant she tried to make it, it was little better than the dungeon if he was not free to leave it.
“Ailsa, come quick!” Excited shouts drew Ailsa from the kitchen late that afternoon.
Had their new captives escaped the dungeon?
She ran out to the bailey and instead of having a problem to deal with, happily joined the mob who greeted her parents and their men with shouts and cheers.
Ailsa pushed through the crowd to them and hugged first her father, then her mother, welcoming them home.
But she also whispered to her mother, “We must speak. Without Da. Soon.”
Her mother nodded. “I’ll come to yer chamber,” she promised before the crowd pulled her away and everyone headed indoors.
Maighread had said her mother would be an ally. For Anders’ sake, Ailsa was counting on it.
Less than an hour later, a soft knock announced her mother’s arrival.
“What is so urgent, Love?” She closed the door behind her and took a seat on Ailsa’s bed while Ailsa paced before her.
“We have a guest.” Ailsa told her what she knew of Anders, how he came to them, what his injuries had been, and that Maighread approved of him. “And he canna recall who he is or anything about his life before making his way to our gate. Only the name we think is his.”
“My, that is interesting,” her mother said. “Where is he?”
“In the herbal. At first he was too injured and ill to be anywhere else. As he got better, both Maighread and I thought it best to keep him there until Da got home. Boden wanted to put him in the dungeon, but he wasna well enough for that.” Now that he was, she didn’t want to say more.
Ailsa paused and clenched her hands in front of her.
“I have feelings for him. He’s a good man, Mother.
I’m sure of it, no matter where he comes from or why he wound up here. ”
“I must meet this good man,” her mother said and stood. “Now.”
Ailsa’s muscles tensed with worry. So much depended on her mother’s sympathy and willingness to help.
“I hoped ye would say that.” On the way downstairs, she added the news about the men in the dungeon.
“I dinna ken if they are connected in anyway. Since they arrived days after Anders, I doubt it. But ’tis a strange coincidence. ”