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"Failing that there is Carmichael," Dougall put in.
"Or Sinclair," Cam added. "We'd be pleased to host yer wedding."
Aulay stared at them all, his heart warmed by all the offers, but panic setting into his brain at the thought of having to accept one over the others.
"I'm thinking we should just give Father Archibald a chance to return," Uncle Acair said before Aulay could be forced to choose between the many offers. "If he does no' return tonight, we can send some men out after him first thing in the morn. If they do no' bring him back, then we'll have to consider an alternative. But at least here, we could all attend," he pointed out. "Including the people o' Buchanan she will become lady of."
"Aye," Dougall said with a nod. "That would be best."
"Let us hope Father Archibald returns, then," Niels murmured.
"Aye," Uncle Acair agreed. "Now, why do we no' let these two get some rest. It has been a long day, and tomorrow may be even longer fer them if Father Archibald returns."
No one argued. Everyone turned and made their way from the room, murmuring good-nights and sleep-wells as they went.
Jetta watched Aulay walk the others out, her thoughts a bit confused. She was having trouble adjusting to the thought that he was not really her husband. Yet, she reminded herself, they would marry on the morrow, or as soon as they could find a priest. Still, she had thought of him as husband for . . . well, for the entire history that she could remember.
Sighing, she gave her head a little shake. According to Uncle Acair--Jetta stopped the thought as she realized he wasn't her uncle yet. Although, maybe he was. According to Uncle Acair she and Aulay were married by something and repute. She couldn't remember what he'd said. She did remember his saying they were handfasted, considered married by law. So, Aulay was her husband after all, and these people who had treated her like family, were her family. But she'd feel better if they had a proper marriage, blessed by a priest.
The sound of the door closing caught her ear and Jetta glanced up as Aulay turned back to the room. She bit her lip briefly, and then asked, "Do you think Father Archibald will return tomorrow?"
"If we're lucky he will," Aulay muttered as he crossed to the bed. "I've no desire to offend anyone by choosing where to marry if he does no'."
"Oh aye, that could be tricky, could it not?" she agreed and lowered her head to peer at her hands as she considered the problem. If they chose MacDonnell as the spot to wed--and that would be her preference since she'd like to meet her soon-to-be nieces--it might leave Niels, Dougall and even the Sinclairs offended.
"Aye, very tricky," Aulay agreed. "I've no desire to inadvertently hurt anyone's feelings, so we shall have to hope luck is with us this time."
Nodding, she glanced around only to frown when she did not see him anywhere in the room.
"Unfortunately, while I hate to admit this to ye fer fear ye'll change yer mind about marrying me," he continued, his voice the only proof of his presence, "I am no' the luckiest o' men, me love."
Following the sound of his voice, Jetta peered over the side of the bed to see him lying on a pallet there, one arm over his face. She was frowning at his words, until the last two sank in. "Me love." It was the first time he'd used an endearment when addressing her, and it made her heart melt. She enjoyed the feeling for a moment, and then scowled at the man on the floor, and said, "I do not understand how you can say that. You seem to me to be a very lucky man indeed."
Aulay shifted his arm aside and blinked up at her in surprise. Probably partially because he didn't expect to see her there, hanging over the side of the bed above him, but also because of her words.
"What?" he asked with disbelief. "How can ye say I'm lucky?"
"How can you say you are not?" she countered at once.
"Have ye seen me face?" he asked dryly.
"Oh piffle," Jetta said, pulling back and dropping to lie on the bed with disgust.
"What the devil does that mean?" Aulay asked, sitting up so he could see her again. When she didn't respond except to shrug, he asked, "How would ye like to walk around with a face so ugly bairns run away crying and women scream in horror when they see ye?"
"Oh, they did not do that," she said turning to eye him with disbelief.
"They did," he assured her bitterly.
Frowning at this news, Jetta examined his scar more closely, and then admitted, "I suppose, at first, when the scar was still red and raw, it might have caused a stir."
"Damned right it did," he growled resentfully. "The first year I hardly left the keep to avoid the reactions it caused."
"And the second?" she asked.
"It was a little better," he admitted reluctantly.
"And no doubt it was better still the year after that," she suggested.
He shrugged unhappily.
Jetta considered him briefly and then asked, "Would ye really rather never have been scarred and be married to Adaira Stuart, then?"
"Who told ye about Adaira?" Aulay asked with surprise.
"A couple of people have mentioned her," she said evasively. "Now answer the question. Would you rather be unscarred and married to Adaira?"
"Good God, nay," he growled. "She was no' at all the woman I thought her. I found out things about her after the betrothal was broken that . . ." He shook his head. "I made a lucky escape there."
"Lucky?" she asked innocently.
"Aye. Do ye ken she tried to seduce Sinclair at court?" he asked with outrage, not catching the lucky bit. "And that was ere I was ever injured. He said he refused her offer because he kenned she was bet
rothed to another, though he did no' ken it was me at the time. That was ere we knew each other so well, but I am sure there were others she offered herself to who had less honor."
Mouth tight, he said, "And, she beat her maid. Mavis told me that after the betrothal was broken too. Beat her something fierce once, right in front o' Mavis, for merely dropping her brush. Had we married, she may ha'e tried to beat the servants here. Nay, that wench was no' the lady I had always thought her to be."
"Hmm. A lucky escape indeed then that ye were scarred and she broke the betrothal," she murmured.
"Aye." He nodded, and then glanced to her sharply. His eyes narrowed. "Ye're saying had I no' been scarred, I'd be married to the wench."
"And stuck with her for a lifetime," Jetta pointed out solemnly. "I think two or three years of misery as your scar healed was a good exchange for avoiding a lifetime of misery with Lady Adaira Stuart."
"Aye," he muttered. "When ye put it that way, mayhap I did get off lucky." Gaze softening, he added, "Especially since I now get to marry you instead."
"Your luck was my luck as well, m'laird, for I get to have you to husband," she assured him with a smile, and then added, "and I get your very large, very loving and caring family as my own too."
Aulay smiled crookedly at that. "They may be nosy, and interfering, but mean well."
"Aye, and there is another example of your good luck," she assured him.
"Mostly," he said solemnly, and she knew he was thinking of Ewan, the brother he'd lost.
"Nay, not mostly," Jetta insisted gently. "Husband, you have six brothers and a sister who all love you and have rushed here to be of aid if they can. Just their having survived to this stage in life is lucky. Your family has lost only one of nine children. Do you not know how rare that is? Most families lose thrice that number ere their children are out of britches. But your family lost only the one and you have six brothers and one sister who are not only still healthy and well, but who love and care about you and are here when you need them," she said, and felt her eyes tear up as she said it, for she knew she had not been so lucky else her family would not have been trying to send her off to someone she wasn't even betrothed to and whom she apparently had feared would kill her. Jetta knew she would have done everything in her power to prevent a sister from such an end. Pushing that thought away, she continued, "And then you were lucky with the wound you took."
