Highland Promise by Mary McCall Page A

Faith pulled the wart from her pocket and placed it on a small table near her bed. "And, Noreen, 'twas Brendan Sutherland."
            "Nay," Noreen exclaimed, raising a hand to her throat.
            "'Tis the truth. He promised to help me when he returns from Londontown." Faith pulled her filthy kirtle over her head and tossed it next to a chest by the foot of her bed. "Do you think we can prevent Edrik from telling Leland of my disguise?"
            "He'll not be able to tell unless he rides hard. His lordship left at first light for court."
            "Oh Lord, I hope Leland does nothing foolish when he meets Laird Sutherland." Faith pulled the plaid from under her shift.
            "What have you there?" Noreen eyed the plaid sharply.
            "Laird Sutherland's plaid." Faith lightly caressed the soft blanket and smiled. "He covered me while I slept. I found it this morn when I woke."
            "A Highlander left you with his plaid?" Noreen wiped her brow with her hand. "Ah, lass, do you ken what this means?"
            "Aye. He is a thoughtful man." She grinned ruefully. "I admit he and his warriors terrified me, being such giants. But do you know what he did?"
            Noreen shook her head.
            "He bandaged my hands, and we walked instead of rode. Was that not thoughtful?"
            "Ah, lass, you truly do not ken," Noreen lamented, wringing her apron in her hands.
            "What are you prattling about?"
            "When a Highlander gives you his plaid, he is staking a claim. The man plans to keep you."
            "Do not be ridiculous," Faith scoffed and placed the plaid to her chest. "Laird Sutherland did not give me the plaid. He loaned it to me. I told him about my penance, and I shall return it when he takes me to the convent."
            "I care not what that dreadful priest told you. You were not meant to be a nun. You should be a wife with an adoring husband and a mother with precious bairns."
            Faith narrowed her eyes. "We shall not discuss this again. My mind is set."
            Noreen stared at the plaid nestled among Faith's clothes. Then a cagey grin crossed her face. "Ah, lass, you may not be discussing the matter with me, but do not say you were not warned." She resumed her knitting and chuckled. "I have a notion Saint Andrew smiles upon you, and your mind is going to be unset quite soon."
    ~ * ~
            The summons came before Brendan and his men could dismount outside the alehouse where they'd planned to stay. Informed they were guests of the crown, the Highlanders soon found themselves ensconced in prime quarters in the west wing of White Tower, King Henry's Londontown residence.
            After cleansing away the dust of travel, Brendan donned dark brown trews that clung to his sinewy legs and black-hide boots that reached his knees. He pulled a black tunic of the finest wool over his head and angled his plaid sash-style over his right shoulder, anchoring his colors at his left waist using a leather belt. A knock sounded at the door as he fastened his laird's badge to his shoulder.
            Expecting the summons from the English king, Brendan left the dagger normally sheathed in his right boot and his sword in his chamber in deference to King Henry. He grabbed the pouch containing the missives from Lady Ranald and her father, Baron Arundrydge, and followed the servant through a maze of corridors.
            Upon reaching the monarch's great chamber, Brendan entered behind the servant, who handed the letters to the king. Henry stood by a tall window and opened the scrolls, ignoring his guest. Brendan clasped his hands behind his back and studied his host. King Henry was tall for an Englishman, though a full head shorter than Brendan. The monarch leaned toward the window to avail himself of the light, but still portrayed a commanding