The Fae Ring (3 page)

When she’d left him, the former Fae Warrior had had his hand to his forehead, those gorgeous violet eyes wide, as if he was just as confused as she. He’d muttered something in Fae—Janet guessed, because she’d not recognized the words as her own Gaelic. However, one word was close to the Gaelic word for
fate.

Sir Xander had reverted to the strange language after Janet hadn’t responded to his English.

Her heartbeat kicked up a notch.

Fate?

Janet didn’t believe in fate.

Should she?

Her brother Duncan certainly believed it’d been Claire’s destiny to come to him from the distant future. Alex believed the day he’d met Alana by chance had been fate.

Both twins
believed
the women they loved were
meant
to be theirs.

She paused in the great hall, sucking in air as her chest heaved. Janet fought the urge to cough as she caught her breath. She ignored the questions swirling around in her head about Sir Xander. “I don’t believe in fate.” Saying the words aloud didn’t slow the chaos in her mind.

“What, lass?”

Janet startled. “Nothin’, Mairi.”

“Janet-lass?”

She met the dark eyes of the older woman in charge of the female servants. She’d been like a mother to her when she’d lost her own. Mairi had taught her how to run a household, but she’d been friend as well as teacher. Janet forced a smile.

“Did ye have a nice walk, lass?”

She nodded, squaring her shoulders, but that deep brown gaze still appraised. The shrewd one. The one that was good at catching mischievous laddies in a lie.

“Did somethin’ happen?”

Aye.
“Nay.” Janet smoothed her skirts. She’d lost her plaid somewhere along her run, but she’d worry about it later.

“Are ye sure, Janet?”

“Aye.” She made her smile wider and brushed her hair back from her face.

Mairi’s eyes honed in on the ring when Janet’s hand was next to her cheek, but the other woman said nothing.

Janet’s heart stuttered. She cleared her throat and scanned the great hall.

The fire was lit in the largest hearth, but there was no one else in the room. Three baskets of fresh rushes sat not far from the hearth. She’d interrupted Mairi’s task.

Distraction is good.

“Do you know where my da is?”

Mairi nodded, a small smile curving her lips. “He is with the laird in his ledger room.”

“Thank you.”

“My ladies are both in the solar. Lady Alana was asking after ye, lass.”

Janet forced another smile. “I shall seek them out.” She bowed to Mairi and took her leave.

Alana and Claire were the last two people she wanted to see. But the princess was the logical choice. She knew more about magic than anyone Janet had ever met. Her sister-by-marriage could probably tell her all she needed to know about the ring on her finger.

Nay. I do not want to know.

Her body tingled. The ring caught her eye. It was changing color, going from red to purple. It swirled until settling into a deep blue.

“Aunt Janet!”

The young shout from across the great hall made her still before she could ascend the stairs. Her focus had been yanked from the piece of Fae jewelry on her hand—thankfully. Janet sucked in a breath and held it as she turned to her nephew.

Angus dashed to close the distance between them. He ignored the sharp, “How many times have I tol’ ye? Donna’ run inside, lad,” admonition from Mairi.

Janet didn’t even get a chance to chide him for not listening to the housekeeper. His gaze focused on the Fae ring before she could meet his blue eyes.

The lad gasped and grabbed her hand. “Magic,” Angus breathed.

Drat.

When their gazes collided, her nephew didn’t look surprised. “I sense magic.”

“Keep your voice down, lad.”

“Where did ye get this, Aunt Janet?” Angus was unrepentant, as usual. Curiosity etched his expression and he pulled her hand closer so he could stare at the stone, which now pulsed dark green.

“Release me. I must speak to your grandfa’.” She tugged, but Angus tightened his grip. If she told him she was headed to his mother, the lad would want to come.

Anything to do with magic fascinated the lad. He wouldn’t take nay for an answer, and Janet had no desire to admit to someone so young she had accidentally—what, married?

“Nay, let me see it.”

“Nay, let me go,” Janet ordered. When her nephew looked back up at her, his mouth was set in a stubborn determined line. “Scoundrel,” she muttered.

Angus flashed a grin that made him look so much like Alex, her irritation dissolved.

Considering her ire with both her brothers as of late, it was a surprise. But she never could remain upset at the lad. He was her heart. “Since when is
scoundrel
a good thing to be called, lad?” She couldn’t hold back a smile.

“Tell me where ye found this, Aunt Janet,” Angus said, ignoring her tease.

“I didna find it.” She rushed her words, sounding more like her nephew than herself.

“Where’d ye get it, then?”

“I gave it to her.”

Janet’s heart galloped. She’d not heard him enter the hall.

Xander stood not far, her lost plaid draped over his arm.

She had to swallow hard. Seeing the Fae man with MacLeod tartan on his body made her stomach flutter. “I’ve got to go.” Her words shook.

Angus cocked his head to one side, appraising her like Mairi had. The child was too perceptive for his own good.

“Here’s your plaid, my lady.” Xander crossed the distance and handed the tartan over.

Janet reached for it automatically. A bolt of energy shot up her arm when their hands brushed, and her cheeks heated. “Thank you, Sir Xander. I’ll take my leave. My da awaits.”

“You and I must share words, my lady.” His voice was firm, and his violet eyes locked onto her face.

She fought a shiver and stepped back. “I must go.”

“It is urgent, lass.” Xander dropped his voice.

Angus watched them, looking from one to the other as they spoke.

“As is my business with my father.” Janet bowed from the waist, clutching her plaid with white knuckles even as she turned to flee up the wide staircase.

“What’s wrong with my aunt, cousin?”

She winced when she heard Angus’ question to the Fae man and kept going.

Alana’s gasp made Janet close her eyes. The princess turned her hand over and pulled it close like Angus had. The lad hadn’t appeared in the solar, so Janet wanted to thank Xander for keeping him busy—almost.

“I’ve not seen one of these in a very long time.”

“What does tha’ mean?”

“I sense that a family meeting is imminent.” Claire flashed a grin before brushing her blonde locks from her face.

It almost hurt to look at Duncan’s wife. She was radiant. Her gowns could no longer hide her pregnancy, as the bairn would come into the world in less than three months, and every day Claire looked even more beautiful. Janet had no doubt Alana would be the same way, though she was not yet showing.

“It’s a special ring,” the princess continued as if Claire had not spoken. Alana’s refined tones spoke of her royal blood, but she sounded as Scottish as Janet did.

“A special ring?” she asked.

“What does that mean?” Claire asked.

Janet frowned. She didn’t want any witnesses to what she had to talk to Alana about, but she couldn’t be rude to Claire. She pulled her hand from the princess’s grip, refusing to look down at the ring. Her peripheral vision told her it was changing colors again—whatever that meant.

She tried not to pace in the bright warm room. The clouds had parted, revealing the sun as if even God was reveling in her—situation—with the Fae man.

“Your thoughts are chaotic,” Alana said.

Janet didn’t confirm or deny it when she met the Fae woman’s eyes.

“Since when can you read minds?” Claire laughed.

“I cannot. The ring is showing me. Rapid swirls; different colors for different emotions. Calm, sister. Tell me what happened.”

“Xander put the ring on my finger.” Her spine tingled when she said his name and Janet whipped away from both her sisters-by-marriage. She stared out one of the many windows in the bright room.

“I’d gathered that, as the ring is Fae, and of great magic.” Alana’s voice was low and concerned. “Did he tell you what it means?”

“Aye.” She nodded for effect since her back was to the former princess.

“What does it mean?” Claire asked.

Alana cleared her throat. “Shall I tell her, sister, or do you want to?”

Janet closed her eyes. “You can.” Her voice cracked and her heart sped up.

“It means they are fated.”

“What?”

“As in we’re supposed to be mated—married.” Janet clutched her hands behind her as she turned away from the window.

Claire’s green eyes were wide. “Hot damn! Just when I thought I knew all about magic…there’s always more. Congrats, Janet! Xander’s a good dude.”

Janet frowned. Though she’d heard the strange word before, it still took her mind a moment to process the speech. Claire spoke oddly, but Janet had adored her from the moment they’d met, and she was teaching Claire Gaelic. Her sister-by-marriage had just joked that morning that perhaps she would eventually sound Scottish. She certainly hadn’t just then.

Alana smirked, then stepped toward Janet. She reached for both her hands. “This does not have to be a bad thing, sister.”

“So you say.”

Claire sat in the corner of the solar watching, rubbing her distended tummy.

The former princess nodded when Janet met her eyes again. The movement shifted her pale locks. Flaxen waves danced about her shoulders.

Janet sucked in a breath. Xander’s hair matched his cousin’s. She didn’t want to think about him—or the ring on her finger. The stone caught her eye against her will. It was glowing blue again.

“My cousin is an honorable man. Kind. Gentle. Sweet.”

She scoffed. “A sweet warrior?”

Even Claire nodded.

Her sisters-by-marriage were united against her.

But Xander is sweet.

Janet banished the memory of his mouth moving over hers. He’d held her to him lightly, tenderly, as if he’d been afraid to hurt her. However, as soft as his kiss had been, there had been great passion. She’d wanted to cling to him. Would have, too, had the former Fae Warrior not pulled away.

Was it the magic I saw?

Alana’s violet eyes—also matching the man Janet was supposedly
destined
for—landed on her face. “Come now, sister. You know this to be true.”

She did, but she wasn’t about to admit it to her brother’s wife.

The Fae woman grabbed her hand and squeezed. Those deeply hued eyes implored. “My cousin is dear to me. As dear as Alex and Angus, and the bairn growing inside me.” Alana placed a hand over her slightly rounded belly.

Janet tried not to frown. She didn’t need another reminder of what she didn’t have. “I know,” she whispered.

“He…he is broken, sister.” Alana’s eyes misted over and Janet’s heart skipped a beat she promptly ignored. “You can fix him. All you have to do is love him. Please…heal Xander.”

Shock washed over her but she didn’t get a chance to answer Alana.

Both of her brothers, her father, and her nephew burst into the solar. Duncan had Xander by the arm. His grip looked tight, but if the Fae man was uncomfortable, his expression didn’t let on.

“Duncan, be reasonable,” their father, Iain, said.

“Ask fer her hand,” Duncan demanded.

“Oh, geeze,” Claire said. She grabbed the sides of the chair and awkwardly made it to her feet.

“Do it. Now!” Duncan yelled.

Alex threw his hands up in the air and stepped forward to pull his twin off Xander.

To her supposed-husband’s credit, his face remained placid while one brother ranted and raved and the other chided them both. Good thing Alex was older than Duncan by several minutes and therefore the laird. Duncan had always been the hotheaded one, and Alex reasonable.

Neither was pleasant to deal with if provoked, but in Janet’s experience, that was just the plight of the MacLeod male.

“Duncan.” Her brother ignored her. “Duncan MacLeod!” Janet’s shout still went unheeded as the men discussed her as if she wasn’t in the room.

“The lass is trying to speak,” their father said.

Both twins quieted but Duncan looked tense.

Xander stood between them, as tall and broad as her six-and-a-half foot tall siblings. Janet could feel his heart beat in time with hers. When their eyes met, awareness darted all over her body and something tugged at her—almost physically. She swallowed.

Magic.

She couldn’t see it, but there was no doubt she felt it. It would take a while to get used to.

“He doesna’ have to offer for me,” Janet said.

“The hell he doesna’,” Duncan barked. He turned to Xander again, but didn’t touch him—yet. “Ye took liberties with my sister. Ye will marry her.” Duncan got in the Fae man’s face.

Liberties? What did he tell them?

Janet’s stomach fluttered.

“I’ve no issue with such things.” Xander’s tone was calm.

“Guys, relax.” Both males ignored Claire. She rested her hand on her husband’s arm, and only then did Janet’s brother take a step back.

As before, the former Fae Warrior appeared unruffled.

“Such things?” Janet snapped. “I shall
not
have my future referred to—” Her cheeks still burned from Duncan’s declaration.

“The lass has a point,” Alex said. His arms were crossed over his broad chest, and he leaned into the wall of the solar. “Marriage shouldna be considered a formality.”

Janet didn’t relax, despite her brother’s statement.

Angus watched, silently standing next to his father.

“This is about more than what they wish,” Alana said. Her voice was firm but low, and all eyes of her overbearing family settled on the princess. “This is about fate.”

“Destiny,” Xander said.

“Nay!” Janet shouted. “It’s abou’ magic.” She shook her head when two violet gazes zoned in on her.