killed in Tunis. But he had not, and he was home. It was almost as great a gift as having Mildrede and Mac returned to her, she thought, and turned excitedly to her husband as he took her arm to draw her away from Mac's embrace. "Can we visit him? I have not seen my brother in three years."
"Not right now," Cullen answered. "Later in the year, mayhap. But ye can invite him to visit us do ye wish."
She nodded, excited at the prospect, then gestured to Mildrede and Mac, and asked, "Are they here for good?"
Cullen nodded.
"Mildrede can stay?" she asked, needing clarification.
"She's yer maid," he said simply.
"And Mac?"
"Ye said he was yer friend." Cullen shrugged. "He's a Scot, and Scatchy is getting old, he'll need someone to take his place and direct his daughter in the stables."
Evelinde stilled at these words. She'd known Scatchy worked in the stables, one of the few men who seemed actually to do anything other than practice at sword play, but hadn't realized the man's daughter worked there as well. Not that it mattered much to her at that point. She was more concerned with what her husband had done for her.
"You sent for them because you knew I missed them?" she asked, tears welling in her eyes as she realized he had actually listened to her after all.
"Nay."
Evelinde glanced around at that word to see a tall, very handsome, fair-haired man moving toward them. She recognized him at once as one of the men who had arrived at d'Aumesbery with her husband, but who had remained behind when they'd left. She had no idea who he was, though.
"Tavis," he introduced himself, apparently reading the confusion on her face. "I'm Cullen's cousin. Yers, too, now that yer wed."
"Oh," Evelinde managed a smile and nodded. "Hello, cousin Tavis."
Tavis's smile widened at her prim greeting, eyes twinkling, then he turned to gesture to the men who had followed and introduced them, "Gillie, Rory, and Jasper."
Evelinde nodded to each of the grinning men in turn, then shifted her attention back to Tavis as he explained, "Cullen ordered your things brought ere leaving d'Aumesbery. While the three of ye left, he ordered us to stay behind long enough for a wagon to be packed with yer belongings and follow."
"Aye, me lady," a short, freckled, strawberry blond Tavis had introduced as Gillie said. "We got here as quick as we could but had to travel more slowly because of the wagon."
Evelinde stared at the men, slowly understanding that this, then, was where they'd disappeared to.
They'd stayed behind to escort the wagon to Donnachaidh; a wagon with her belongings.
"We brought everything of yours," Mildrede said, drawing her attention again. "Edda tried to stop us at first, but Tavis and the men just told her to stay out of the way. We have your tapestries and—"
The maid stopped speaking because Evelinde had whirled away at that point and was rushing for the doors.
"Oh!" Evelinde gasped as she slammed through the door and paused on the top of the keep stairs to stare down at the overloaded wagon waiting in front. She peered at the familiar items on the wagon with wide eyes, then glanced back when the doors opened behind her. A beaming Mildrede and Mac stepped out first, followed by Cullen and the four men who had escorted the wagon.
"You brought my chairs from my room," she said with amazement, turning back and running lightly down the stairs to the wagon.
"Aye. Mildrede wanted to bring yer bed, too, but it wouldna fit," Tavis informed her with amusement, leading the other men down the stairs to follow Mildrede and Mac to the wagon as Evelinde moved around it, touching familiar items as she passed.
It was like having a little bit of home with her. Each item held memories, both good and bad. The good memories were of her parents, the bad were of Edda. Evelinde decided she would only remember the good and forget the bad. She had enough problems at present without troubling about the past. The past was done. Edda could not hurt or humiliate her anymore, so carrying those memories with her would only be her hurting herself in Edda's stead.
"My tapestries," she murmured, caressing the end of one of the rolls, then her gaze moved on. "The cushions Mother and I embroidered!"
"And all your clothes, and even the embroidered linens your mother put aside for you," Mildrede said with a grin, then sobered somewhat as she