The Wedding (25 page)

Perhaps she wasn't completely hopeless, after all. Besides, she had a sound plan now, and that made her feel more in control. As long as she remembered to be quiet and demure, she would do just fine.

With any luck, no one would even notice she was there.

She looked about the hall with interest. Her attention was immediately drawn to the huge tapestry hanging over the mantel. She stared at it a long while, trying to figure out what had bothered Alec so much when he'd looked at it. She thought the piece was lovely. Its edges were frayed with age, but the threads were still vibrant with color.

Depicted was the likeness of a man Alec had called William, dressed in a deep royal blue robe and wearing a jeweled crown on his head, who seemed to be looking across the hall. She didn't know who William was, but she decided he must have lived a long time ago because there was a gold halo over his head, which meant he'd already been sainted. She really should have taken the time to memorize all the names and pertinent facts about the saints as her confessor had suggested, she realized, and wouldn't he be gloating now if he knew she was sorry she hadn't paid attention to his lectures? Although she was curious to find out which William it was, she wasn't going to ask Alec or Jamie to tell her, for fear they'd think she was ignorant. She would have to wait until later and put the question to Connor. She made the sign of the cross to show her respect for the saint before turning her back on him so she could look at the rest of the hall.

She was immediately captivated by the arsenal hanging on the walls on either side of the entrance. In the center of the larger wall were two magnificent swords with golden handles encrusted with jewels. The larger one had a jewel missing near the center of the cluster of gems.

It was all very impressive, she supposed, but downright peculiar too. Why would anyone want to hang their weapons in their home?

A door opened behind the balcony above the main entrance, and a little girl no bigger than a whisper came hurrying out. The child had obviously just awakened from her nap, as she was rubbing the sleep from her eyes. She was dressed in an ivory gown and had wrapped herself in a plaid that dragged on the floor around her. The little girl was in such a hurry to get downstairs, she forgot to hold the blanket away from her feet as she walked across the balcony. She had already stumbled once when Brenna started toward her to lend a helping hand.

Brenna started running when the little one tripped a second time. “Pick up your plaid and wait for me to help you down the stairs,” she called out.

She didn't understand what Brenna was telling her. She didn't seem to be afraid of the stranger, just curious. She stared down at Brenna between the rails and smiled, but didn't stop.

Too late, Brenna realized her mistake in calling out to the child, because now the little one was busy watching her and wasn't paying any attention to where she was going. The child was headed for disaster. Brenna started running up the steps to stop her.

She didn't make it. The little girl reached the edge of the top step, tripped on her blanket, and catapulted herself into the air with the force of a pebble hurled from a sling.

Brenna lunged forward, caught her in her arms, and had enough wits about her to wrap herself tight around the little one and hold her close. The force of the impact made Brenna lose her footing, and as she fell backward, she tried to turn so that her shoulder, and not her head, would hit the stone wall. She didn't accomplish her goal.

Later, Jamie told her she hit her forehead twice more before she landed in a heap at the bottom, with the child still wrapped protectively in her arms.

Brenna recovered from the mishap before Jamie did, but she throbbed from her head to her toes. The top of her forehead felt as though it were on fire, but once she'd made certain the little one was all right, she was actually able to smile over her pitiful condition. Blood was streaming down her forehead; the hem of her gown was torn, and the pleats she worked so hard to straighten were gone.

Jamie was so distraught from the fright, she could barely think what to do. She sat down on the steps above Brenna, pulled her baby into her lap, and hugged her tight. “Dear God, I thought you were both going to die. Are you all right, Brenna? Don't move until I . . . What were you thinking, Grace? You know you mustn't come down the steps without . . . How many times has your father told you to call to one of us? Are you all right, Brenna? Answer me.”

Jamie was sobbing, and Brenna was certain she wouldn't hear any reply she gave. She felt foolish sprawled out on the floor like a broken vase, so she forced herself to get to her feet, and once again tried to make herself presentable.

“Brenna, don't move until I make certain you haven't broken anything.”

“All right, Jamie.”

“Good Lord, you're standing up.”

“Mama, do we got to tell Papa?”

“No, we don't have to tell him. You do.”

Grace squirmed off her mother's lap. “When I'm ready, Mama?” she pleaded. “Not before?”

Jamie nodded. “When you're ready,” she conceded. “As long as you tell him before you go to bed tonight.”

“Why don't we forget it happened, Jamie. It was just an accident.”

Grace must have understood a little of what Brenna suggested because she moved closer to her and nodded her agreement.

“I was so terrified, I couldn't move. I saw my baby flying through the air and my heart felt as though it had stopped. I couldn't get to her before . . .” Too upset to continue, Jamie covered her face with her hands and broke into sobs again.

Brenna patted her arm to try to calm her. “There, there. It's over now. Your daughter is as fit as ever, Jamie. She doesn't even have a scratch.”

She helped Jamie stand up, put her arm around her shoulders, and led her into the hall.

Jamie had already taken her seat at the table before she came to her senses and realized what she was doing. She jumped back up, and shoved Brenna down on an adjacent stool. Landing with a thud, pain shot up from the back of Brenna's right thigh, and it took a good deal of discipline not to cry out.

Jamie finally noticed the injury on her forehead. “Good God, you're bleeding.”

“It's just a little cut, nothing more. Please sit down and catch your breath. You've been through a fright, Jamie.”

“No, I should be comforting you. I swear to God it's going to take me a month to recover. You're taking it all in stride, though, aren't you? Turn your head so I can get a better look. Are you bleeding anywhere else? Lord, my hands are shaking so, I can barely get your hair out of my way. Grace?”

“Yes, Mama?” The little girl came running across the hall, dragging her plaid behind her. She seemed eager to be included in the conversation until her mother told her what she wanted her to do.

“Go and get your father.”

Grace dropped her blanket, climbed up on Brenna's lap, and leaned back against her. “Mama? Can I go and get Papa when I'm ready?”

Brenna burst into laughter. The sound warmed Jamie's heart and brought fresh tears into her eyes. She took Brenna's hand and squeezed. “Thank God for you. Were it not for your quickness, my daughter might have broken her neck. My husband and I are in your debt until the day we die.”

Brenna colored with embarrassment. “You don't owe me anything. You are my relatives now, and I will always be willing to help you in any way I can. Besides, all of us must watch out for the little ones. Isn't that so?”

“It is so,” Jamie agreed. “You and I are more than relatives, though. We're sisters. Isn't that so?”

“It is so,” she whispered. “And there is always room for one more sister in my heart.”

The bond between the two women was formed in that instant, and all of Brenna's worries and insecurities disappeared. Sisters, after all, didn't need to impress each other.

“Mama, don't cry anymore. I don't like it,” Grace demanded in a quivering voice.

“I shall stop at once,” Jamie promised. She let go of Brenna's hand, drew a deep breath, and wiped the tears away from her cheeks with the back of her hands. “I should send someone to fetch Connor. He'll want to see this.”

Brenna didn't want Connor to join them any more than she wanted Alec. She simply wasn't up to a long explanation now, and if he even looked as though he blamed her for this mishap, she knew her temper would start simmering. There was also a remote chance he might show her a little sympathy, and she would be so appreciative, she might break down and cry. She couldn't think of anything more humiliating.

“You're being unreasonable about this. Your husband's going to demand answers as soon as he looks at you.”

“I'll be happy to explain it all to him on our way home.”

“Are you afraid of him?” Jamie asked, sounding stunned by the possibility.

Brenna shook her head. “Of course not. It's just that I know he'll say something I'm sure to take exception to, and I won't be able to stop myself from letting him know what I think about that, and before you know it, we'll be arguing in front of Alec. It wouldn't be at all appropriate. I want to impress the man, not infuriate him. Besides, I have vowed not to draw attention to myself. Will you please stop poking at me?”

“You saved my daughter's life. Think Alec won't be impressed with that fact? Why are you so uncomfortable with compliments, Brenna?”

“Because they're misplaced. I only did what I should have done.”

“I see this embarrasses you, and so I shall let it go for now. Grace, love, go and ask one of the servants to bring fresh water and towels.”

The little girl was in such a hurry to help, she forgot to take her plaid with her.

The cut was on Brenna's forehead above her left eye. After the injury had been properly cleaned, Brenna assumed Jamie was finished, and so she suggested Jamie tell her how she'd ended up married to Alec Kincaid. Jamie suggested she fetch her needle and thread first.

Brenna didn't like the sound of that. “Please don't think I'm not grateful, but I would rather you didn't go to any more trouble. I'm feeling fine, really. I barely felt it. Is Grace your only child?”

“No, I have four in all. Mary Kathleen's the oldest. She's married now and lives too far away to suit me, for I only see her twice a year. Gideon was born ten years ago, and five years later, Dillon came along. Grace is our baby.”

“She's adorable. She has the face of a cherub.”

“Yes, she does,” Jamie agreed. “Your questions haven't changed my mind, if that was your hope. The cut is too deep to be left alone. You need to be stitched together so you may as well stop trying to be noble. We both know you're in pain.”

“I wasn't being noble. I was being diplomatic.”

“It's a wasted effort.”

“Perhaps I wasn't specific enough for you. If you think I'm going to let you near me with a needle in your hand after you've only just told me you can't stop shaking, you're out of your mind.”

“I'm determined to get my way, Brenna.”

“You're demented, Jamie.”

Grace's eyes had grown wide during the debate. She climbed back up on Brenna's lap and watched in fascination while the two women shouted at each other.

Jamie eventually won the battle. She was older, stronger, and had two servants on her side. Grace was Brenna's only ally. She wasn't much help, though. She giggled whenever her mama raised her voice and covered her ears whenever Brenna raised hers.

“Will you get it done before Connor and Alec come inside?”

“Yes.”

Fortunately, Jamie was as good as her promise. Brenna never made a sound while Jamie cleaned the injury and sewed it together.

“You'll have a scar trailing down your forehead, but half of it can be concealed by your hair. Does that upset you?”

“No,” Brenna answered. “What upsets me is the way you stop every time you want to say something to me. Please hurry up and finish.”

Jamie let out a sigh. “I had no idea you were so difficult.”

After making her observation, she wet a fresh towel and washed the blood off Brenna's hair. She still believed Connor would demand an explanation as soon as he looked at Brenna.

“I agree with you that he'll notice my injury, but I'm certain he won't say a word about it until we're well on our way home. He might even wait until tomorrow to bring it up. If I were to push my hair back and point to the stitches, I might get him to say something before.”

The cook had joined them a few minutes before and now asked her mistress's permission to make a suggestion.

“Yes, Elyne?” Jamie asked.

“Why not make a wager?”

Brenna embraced Elyne's idea. If Connor ignored her injury, then she wanted Jamie to plant flowers in front of Connor's home to make it look as inviting as Jamie's. If Connor commented on the injury, then Jamie wanted Brenna to promise to come and see her at least once a week, no matter what the weather or schedule.

Rules were firmly set down so that neither lady would be able to sway the outcome in her favor. Elyne was given the important duty of hiding in the hallway to make certain trickery, such as hints, wasn't used.

The brothers could hear their wives' laughter from outside the entrance and smiled in reaction. Alec was pleased his wife was enjoying her visitor, and Connor was relieved Brenna wasn't as nervous with Jamie as she'd been with Alec.

Brenna heard the doors open and immediately helped Grace get off her lap. She stood up, keeping her back to her husband, and pretended concentration as she folded the plaid the little girl had discarded.