AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"Aulay?"
Recognizing Rory's voice, Aulay stiffened and then moved quickly, dragging the fur up to cover Jetta on the floor, even as he pulled away from her and leapt to his feet.
"Aye," he said, his voice gruff as he bent quickly to scoop up Jetta, furs and all. Straightening, he growled, "I think she fell out o' bed." That was the only thing that made sense to him. How else had she wound up on the pallet with him?
"Fell out o'--" Rory began with surprise.
"Nay. I did not fall, husband," Jetta interrupted, peering up earnestly at Aulay. "When I saw you were there on the floor without even a fur to cover you, I joined you to share the fur from the bed."
"Oh." Aulay stared at her, nonplussed, and then turned to set her on the bed.
"Ye're awake." Rory crossed the room to peer at Jetta as Aulay straightened. "Well, ye've more color this morning. That's good."
Aulay glanced to Jetta and noticed that she did indeed have more color in her face. He couldn't tell if it was a result of their passion, or embarrassment at the interruption. Either way, her cheeks were quite pink, he noted before she shyly ducked her head.
"You drank all of your cider," Rory said next.
Aulay glanced to the empty mug just as his brother set it back on the table.
"And ye were able to keep it down?" Rory asked next.
"Aye," Jetta said in a shy whisper, and then cleared her throat and admitted, "I feared I might not for a moment, but then my stomach settled and I was able to keep it down."
"That's a good sign," Rory said, and leaned forward to press an ear to her chest.
When Jetta stiffened in shock and sent a wide-eyed look his way, Aulay managed a reassuring smile. "He's just listening to yer heart, lass," he explained and then noted the frown on his brother's face and asked with concern, "What is it?"
"Her heart is racing," Rory muttered, straightening to look at her face again, eyebrows rising when she flushed a bright red. Turning slowly, Rory peered at Aulay with suspicion.
"I'm sure yer entering without knocking merely startled her," Aulay muttered, avoiding his gaze.
"Aye. I'm sure," Rory said dryly, and then turned to offer a gentle smile to Jetta. "Do ye remember anything today? Yer name or where ye come from?"
"I . . . my name is Jetta," she answered.
Aulay gave a start, surprised that the name he'd given her was the same as her true name, but then she admitted, "I heard the maid call me that yesterday."
"Ah," Rory said solemnly. "So, ye do no' remember anything ere waking up here the first time?"
She shook her head apologetically. "Do you think I will? Remember things, I mean."
Rory hesitated, but then apparently decided that honesty was the best policy . . . in this instance, at least. "I do no' ken, lass. Ye took some terrible damage to the back o' yer head. In truth, I'm surprised ye survived it at all, and apparently with all o' yer faculties intact, other than yer memory." That made him frown and he asked, "Are all yer faculties intact?"
"I think so," Jetta said slowly and then shrugged helplessly. "How would I know if they were not?"
Rory smiled faintly. "Well, is yer vision blurry at all?"
"Nay," she said at once, appearing relieved to be able to say it.
"What about smell or taste? When ye drank the cider did--?"
"It smelled and tasted fine to me," she said.
"And yer speech does no' seem impeded at all," he pointed out. "So I would say yer memory is the only thing that was affected by the injury."
"Aye," she agreed, but looked dissatisfied and said, "I know I should be grateful for that, but there is so much I do not remember. For instance, how did I injure my head?"
Rory turned to glance at Aulay, obviously leaving it to him, and he cleared his throat and said, "Shipwreck."
Jetta blinked at the words. "I hit my head in a shipwreck? How?"
Aulay frowned at the question, but said, "Ye were strapped to the mast. When the ship broke apart, you and the mast ye were on bobbed about on the water's surface. Ye ended up banging yer head repeatedly on it." At least, that was what he'd decided must have happened. It was the only thing that made sense. And unfortunately, they hadn't been able to find out anything else. His brothers had made discreet inquiries, but had not been able to find out the name of the ship that she'd been on. In fact, as far as they could tell, no ships had sunk during the whole week when she appeared.
"And you saved me?"
Aulay blinked his thoughts away and glanced to her at that question, but it was Rory who said, "Aye, Aulay and Alick cut ye free o' the mast and got ye to shore."
"Alick?" Jetta asked, her expression uncertain.
"Our youngest brother," Rory explained.
Her eyes widened. "There are three of you?"
"Nine," Rory said, even as Aulay said, "Eight."
"Sorry," Rory muttered, and corrected himself. "Eight. There used to be nine of us, eight brothers and one sister. But one o' our brothers died some years back so now there are only the eight of us."
"Only eight?" she asked with mild amusement. "That seems a lot to me."
"I suppose," Rory agreed with a smile and then asked lightly, "So ye did no' have a lot o' brothers and sisters?"
"I . . ." Jetta frowned, her thoughts obviously turning inward as she tried to find the answer.
Aulay watched, waiting to see if she would remember, but when she raised a hand and began to rub at her forehead as if it were paining her, he said, "Let it go, lass. Ye'll remember it all soon enough."
"Aye," she said on a sigh, and then pointed out, "Or you could just tell me yourself and save me the effort of trying to remember."
Aulay stiffened, but was saved from having to respond by Rory who said, "'Tis better ye remember on yer own, lass. That way we'll ken 'tis a true memory and no' just something ye think ye recall because ye were told."
"Oh," Jetta murmured, and Aulay wasn't surprised to see the confusion the suggestion caused in her. Rory's attempt to save him from having to admit that he didn't have any of the answers she was seeking had been a little less than logical to his mind. Surely she'd know the difference between memories and stories she'd been told?
Shaking his head, Aulay whirled away from the bed, muttering, "I'll fetch Mavis up to change yer bed and help ye bathe while I see to hunting up something for the sup."
"Oh, but I do not want you to leave."
That soft cry brought Aulay to a halt at the door. Turning slowly, he peered at her. Jetta's cheeks were still flushed, not as flushed as they had been directly after his kissing her, but flushed just the same. Her hair was a glorious disarray of black waves around her face that begged for attention. She was clutching the furs to her chest, hiding what he knew were bared breasts from view, and her expression was as forlorn as an abandoned bairn's. It was all enough to make him want to stride straight back to the bed, climb in with her and kiss that expression off her face.
Unfortunately, he wasn't in the newly-roused-from-sleep-and-not-thinking-straight stage he'd been in when he'd found her cuddled up to him on the pallet of furs earlier and begun to kiss her. Now he was wide awake, and so was his conscience. Jetta might be under the mistaken impression that they were husband and wife and that kind of behavior was perfectly acceptable, but he was more than aware that they weren't, and it wasn't. He had no right to kiss and touch her like that. No matter how much he wanted to. And he really, really wanted to. Hell, if Rory had arrived even a couple minutes later, Aulay very well might have taken the lass right there on the floor. That being the case, he knew the best thing he could now do was to stay away from the temptation she offered and let her heal in peace.
Unfortunately, when Aulay opened his mouth to give some excuse as to why he could not remain with her, he instead found himself saying, "I'll no' be gone long. I'll return to break me fast with ye after Mavis has seen to yer bath and such."
Jetta didn't seem overly pleased with his response, and he suspected
she was about to protest his leaving again, but then she suddenly took a deep breath and forced herself to relax and nod. "Very well. Thank you."
She sounded calm and composed, but Aulay noted the way her lip trembled before she bit on it. Frowning, he glanced to Rory in question, suspecting something was going on here he did not understand.
Murmuring an excuse to Jetta, Rory stood and crossed the room to follow him out the door.
"What is--?" Aulay began, but Rory raised a hand to silence him and pulled the door closed. He then ushered him several feet away before speaking.
