Vaila nodded, while Phileas looked at his captain.
“I am James McGregor, Captain of the Guard here at the Keep,” James introduced himself, offering Vaila a deep bow. “I give you my word, my lady, that I will do everything within my power to see your home returned to you.”
Ewan watched as his captain looked at Vaila with uncharacteristic seriousness. As their gazes held, Vaila softened.
“I appreciate that, Captain McGregor,” she said sincerely.
“Splendid.” Phileas commanded the room’s attention with the single word. “The wedding will go forth. Welcome to Clan Buchanan, Miss Donaghey.”
CHAPTER FIVE
Ailsa paced.
Vaila watched.
“So—” Vaila started.
Ailsa held up a hand, cutting off her sister. She had officially used up the last of the day’s patience with that meeting between her family and the Buchanans. She’d managed to hold things together as she’d tucked a weeping Eilidh into bed in the room she planned to share with Davina. The Buchanans had more than enough room to house them all, of course; half the clan lived in residence at the Keep.
But after today, the girls wanted to be together. Ailsa understood.
But if she tried to do anything else—anything at all—she feared that she would collapse into a puddle of tears and never, ever pull herself up again.
“Ailsa,” Vaila tried again after Ailsa had made a few more circuits of the room. “Ailsa, sit. Please just sit.”
Ailsa more collapsed than sat, but as she ended up on the mattress beside her sister, she considered it an acceptable compromise.
“It has been the most horrible day,” she said, eyes squinted closed. No matter how hard she squeezed the lids shut, tears still leaked out. She felt them track down to mingle with her hair.
Vaila settled back until she was laying next to Ailsa. She curled up on her side so that she was facing Ailsa.
“I can’t believe it,” she said, voice scarcely more than a whisper. “Mama and Da. They’re just… gone.”
Without opening her eyes, Ailsa reached to squeeze Vaila’s hand.
“It was horrible,” Ailsa said. She knew she was repeating herself, but there was really no other word for it. It was the worst thing she had ever seen.
“Oh, sweet.” Vaila snaked her arm beneath Ailsa’s neck and clutched her close.
It was only then that Ailsa let herself cry, her tears mingling with Vaila’s. The sisters held one another. They needed the reminder that someone they loved was still here, was still warm and alive and safe beside them.
Eventually, though, they ran out of tears to cry, and their breath settled into a slow, soothing rhythm.
“It isn’t fair,” Vaila said in the resigned tone of someone who knew life wasn’t fair, not a bit, and intended to remain furious about it. “And now you have to marry that horrid Ewan Buchanan just to make things right!”
Ailsa flinched. With great difficulty—she felt as though her muscles were growing more exhausted by the minute—she dragged herself to a seated position so that she could look directly at Vaila.
“He isn’t horrid,” she said with a sigh.
Vaila popped up, her eyes keen and narrow.
“He isn’t?” she asked.
Vaila’s suspicion was warranted. Back when Ailsa had returned home to Castle Dubh-Gheal, unwed, Vaila had bornethe brunt of her frustration over what had transpired at Buchanan Keep.
She’d been fifteen and full of fire. She had not necessarily been particularly measured.
Or kind to Ewan.
