Page 53 of Twelfth Knight’s Bride

“Nay, he’s busy with his cousin—”

“Oh, posh,” Brighde cut her off. “What ye did yesterday, Aileana, why, it’s the talk of the castle, and he’s proud of ye.”

“Wouldna’ anyone do as I did?” she argued.

“Nay, no’ everyone, lady, and ye ken that well. And after the history betwixt our clans, it means much to us all, but especially to him.” Brighde nodded toward her brother, who, blast it, was looking at her again.

She dipped her eyes downward, feeling warmth rise to her cheeks.

“All his life, he was trained to fight for our land, and that in order to be a worthy laird, he must keep up that fight until we achieved what our ancestors could nay—”

Aileana masterfully suppressed the retort on her lips, for Brighde spoke of conquering Grant land, and this drink had a tongue-loosening effect.

“But James is a, well, an introspective sort at heart, nay so much a fighter, believe it or nay. Our sister Marjorie’s death affected him deeply and turned him into the warlord he’s reputed to be. He turned into a brooding soul after losing her, for Marjorie was much older than him and was more of a mither to him than ours ever was,” she lamented.

“I was sorry to learn of yer sister’s passing,” Aileana said, taking her hand. “Jamie—James,” she corrected herself, although Brighde smirked knowingly, “told me about her our first night together and has confided more since.”

“Then ye should consider that special. He’ll nay even speak of Marjorie to me. He must trust ye, to open that wound to ye.”

Brighde smiled wistfully and looped her arm through Aileana’s, gazing at the castle folk drinking heartily and eager to celebrate. Aileana tightened the sisterly embrace. Peigi had a habit of looping arms, too, and it made Aileana both long for Peigi’s affection and take comfort in Brighde’s sisterhood.

She swallowed.

This sisterhood didn’t have to be severed at Twelfth Night. She hadn’t accounted for the possibility that she would grow to like these people and that they might like her when Seamus had tied those cuts of tartan around her hand and declared her married. Not once had she anticipated finding friendship here, or kindness. Certainly, she’d never anticipated finding acceptance.

“Our mither never forgave our faither for taking a leman and took out her anger on James. It’s made my brother self-conscious of his bastardy his whole life. I always felt badly for him, for he was birthed into this world through no fault of his own, and although our faither broke his marriage vows, James was the son and heir he needed.

“But because he was a bastard, his claim to Tioram and the Earldom of Ross has been nothing but contested. His chief competitor, our second cousin Mathus MacRuaidhri, claimed his lairdship is illegitimate and that the line of succession should flow to them. ’Tis why they employed the Frasers and the Grants—” Brighde caught herself. “I’m sorry, Aileana, to speak so accusingly of yer people.”

Aileana forced a smile. Sakes, but would this rivalry never be put to rest? “Worry nay, lady. Ye are one of my people, too. Please continue.”

Brighde restarted upon a deep breath, squeezing her arm. “’Tis why our cousin MacRuaidhri employed the Frasers to oust him four years ago.”

“How did James regain this stronghold?” Aileana asked, eying her nàmhaid husband, whose demanding and desperate kiss yesterday had left her flustered ever since.

“We’re loyal to James. He’s always protected his folk and handled their disputes with care. We didnae make it difficult for him to creep in under the cover of night with his men. He ousted the puppet laird easily and sent him packing back to whence he’d come. But I fear he didnae forgive yer brother, Laird Grant, so easily.”

“Nay, I remember that day too well,” Aileana said. “Granted, I knew no’ how my brother had joined forces with the Frasers and have spent much time hating James for the reaving.”

“I fear many of a woman’s troubles are brought on by men and their disputes,” Brighde remarked, sipping her mead.

“I suspect my brother involved himself with the Frasers to retaliate against James for a past reave, but true, we often bear the brunt of their decisions, no?”

Brighde nodded. “I’ll drink to the sentiment.” They both imbibed another sip. “But it’s nay just his stronghold he had to win back. As ye ken by now, my mither burdened him with conditions placed upon his inheritance because of his bastardy. He’s had nothing but a rough go of it, and yet he still finds a way to overcome.”

Aileana frowned. “What conditions?”

Brighde opened her mouth, then shut it, then looked down. “Surely he told ye. By now, I mean. Ye do nay ken?”

“What are ye talking about?”

“Ach, ’tis nothing.” Brighde took a nervous sip. “I swear, this drink makes me heady. I’m just glad James found happiness with ye. He positively glows when ye’re near to him, and I never thought he’d find such contentment. He deserves it. So do ye.”

“What does that mean? Ye confuse me.”

Brighde sighed, as if caught in a folly, and Aileana’s skin prickled. “I shouldnae have said anything. His inheritance is his business to tell ye about.”

“Whatever do ye speak of?”