A Very Highland Holiday - Kathryn Le Veque Page 0,8

dead than in their actual possessions. Several of the haversacks contained letters, and she’d read all of them, but this haversack had been different.

Through those carefully scripted letters, a story unfolded.

It was the story of two brothers.

Carefully, she unbuttoned the three brass buttons holding the haversack closed and opened the flap. Inside were bundles of letters wrapped in hemp twine and she pulled out a bundle to look at it.

Fidelis Semper.

Ever Faithful.

It was the motto of the House of de Lohr.

Gaira could hardly believe the man who had written these very letters had come looking for them. Or, more correctly, looking for the man for whom the letters were intended. She hadn’t thought much of the British visitor to the inn until he started talking about his missing brother. She listened more carefully. And then, the name…

De Lohr.

Gaira sank to her buttocks, sitting on the floor with the letters clutched to her breast. She had read every single letter, more than once. Something about them spoke to her in a way she couldn’t fully grasp and she had stolen the haversack, keeping it hidden away in her chamber. Carrie didn’t even know it was missing because she’d taken anything of value out of the haversack and put it aside, but these letters… they were the only thing of value as far as Gaira was concerned.

From the words on the yellowed paper, she’d come to know James de Lohr. There were letters written by James when he was a young lad, all the way until most recently before Johnathan went to war. The earlier letters were from a sensitive, somewhat spoiled young boy, upset with the way his brother had spoken to him or made demands of him. It was usually the same thing, fighting over the way Johnathan had behaved or making mention of a speech impediment.

Gaira had heard that for herself.

But that sensitive, somewhat spoiled young boy had grown into a young man who was still quite sensitive and quite brilliant. He had a gift for words, for writing, and she came to understand that it was because he was self-conscious about speaking. It was easier for him to write than it was for him to speak. But the beauty in his words was something that had endeared her to him.

A man she had fallen for, sight unseen.

But he was here now, a faceless fantasy now come to life.

She could still hardly believe it.

But having heard James speak, she realized there was so much more he didn’t know about his brother.

Could she tell him? Would she tell him?

Give Worcester that gift. Help him find some peace.

Gaira wondered if she was brave enough to.

Part Four

CARRIE

James awoke to Carrie looking down at him.

Startled, he blinked and instinctively pulled back, bumping his head on the stone wall. Surprised that he had awoken, Carrie jumped back as well.

“I’m sorry, m’laird,” she gasped. “Did ye hurt yer head?”

Hand to his head, James frowned as he labored to sit up. “N-No more than it already is,” he grumbled, wincing. “W-What are you doing here?”

Carrie’s big, green eyes looked at him with concerned. “I came tae see if ye were dead.”

“D-Dead?”

“Because ye slept so long. ’Tis midday.”

James’ eyebrows lifted and he ended up leaning against the wall, rubbing the bump on his head.

“M-Midday, you say?”

“Aye.”

He sighed heavily. “I-I’m not dead,” he said. “B-But the way my head is throbbing, I surely wish I was.”

Carrie retrieved a cup from the table. “Drink this,” she said. “It’ll help.”

He took it, smelled it, and immediately yanked it away from his nose. “B-Bleeding Christ,” he muttered. “W-What is that?”

Carrie pushed the cup back towards his mouth. “It’ll cure ye,” she said. “Drink it quickly. Dunna stop tae taste it; just drink.”

James didn’t have much choice. She was heavily pushing the cup on him, whatever it was, so he pounded it back like a shot, all in one swallow. But the second the taste hit him, the contents nearly came back up again.

“G-God,” he moaned, shoving the cup at her. “What in the hell was in that?”

Carrie set the cup aside, a smile playing on her lips. “Vinegar and eggs.”

“W-What?”

She nodded. “Vinegar mixed with raw eggs,” she said. “It’ll cure the pain in yer head. Our customers swear by it.”

“O-Or swear at it,” James mumbled. He wiped at his mouth as if to wipe away the taste and took a deep breath. “W-What does the day look like?”

Carrie went to the only window in the chamber, which was covered with heavy