Page 52 of The Scottish Bride
“Hold on to your anger if it helps Scotland find a resolution to this accursed war. If the day ever comes to forgive, you will know it.”
“You do sound like a priest,” Liam groused.
“A monk. But I have not yet decided.”
“If you feel ready to return, then come with us,” Gilchrist said. “We could use you. Our king could use you.”
With a soft laugh, Gideon reached for an oatcake and broke it apart. “Our uncle wants to see you. He has news from Ettrick Forest, I think. A messenger came yesterday, but he did not share news with me. He is resting now but says he will see you tonight or in the morning.”
“Whatever he needs. Gideon, what do you know of Lady Tamsin?” Liam asked.
“She visited a few times to study books in our library. I have been working as the library-keeper—our uncle entrusted me with the key to the chained volumes. I showed Lady Tamsin our collection, and we talked of texts and books. We are somewhat friends, though I have not seen her since her husband’s death last winter.”
“She seems a proper lady,” Gilchrist said. “Educated, intelligent, courteous.”
“Very much. I have never heard her speak ill of anyone, even the English or her English husband. Though she never said it directly, I gather she is loyal to Scotland and Bruce. But aye, a perfect lady born and bred, even if she did go out a window like a thief in the night.”
Liam huffed at that, remembering the sight of the lady scrambling down a rope. She had fallen into his arms, then traveled with strangers without complaint. She had even allowed him to kiss her when it would save them all in the moment. He caught his breath at the memory of that and private kisses later, born of something more than lust, a feeling he dared not define.
“She is an interesting lady,” he said simply. “How is it she married an English lord? The Keiths of Kincraig have always been loyal Scots.”
“Her brother chose to ride for Edward and keeps to it,” Gilchrist said.
“I suspect he means to protect his estate and his sisters,” Liam said.
“I gather Lady Tamsin’s father thought the marriage would protect her and add an ally for his family. She had no say in it,” Gideon explained. “She said little of it, though she mentioned that her husband called her his Scottish bride.”
“Scotland is full of Scottish brides,” Gilchrist said.
“It was not said kindly,” Gideon replied. “A Scottish lady in an occupied Scottish castle—she felt distressed. Trapped. It is why she enjoyed coming here to spend time in our library and our scriptorium. She worked on her pages too. She writes a pretty hand, you see,” he explained. “And writes verse.”
“Did she work on her great-grandfather’s parchments?”
“She did.”
“Then perhaps she does have this thing that Edward wants.”
“Only she can tell you that.”
“Therein lies the challenge,” Liam murmured.
“Is she drawn to the religious life, to come here often?” Gilchrist asked.
“She is more interested in our library than our piety,” Gideon said. “And interested in the work in our hospital as well. Her sister visited Holyoak too, you see. She is a healer of some repute in Kincraig, as I understand. Out of charity, Lady Rowena brings her remedies to monasteries with hospitals. I met her when I was a patient here before Lady Tamsin ever visited. Both ladies,” Gideon added, “are beyond reproach. Their younger sister as well, I would guess.”
“Lady Margaret,” Liam supplied.
“Aye. Each one would be a marriage prize, though only Lady Tamsin’s match had been decided before her father’s death. One sister had been betrothed, but I believe the fellow died in battle. Sir Henry has the responsibility of finding matches for his sisters now, but he is away. Their marriages must wait.”
“Hopefully they are safe there. Kincraig is remote enough to be a lesser target,” Gilchrist said. “I believe their uncle is Sir Robert Keith, Marischal of Scotland. Being the Rhymer’s great-granddaughters recommends them as well. Aye, Liam?”
Silent, he nodded. That the Keith sisters were valuable prizes would not escape the attention of King Edward—or Malise Comyn either. But with Sir Henry Keith away, he hoped LadyTamsin’s sisters were adequately shielded from a world in turmoil and suitors seeking advantage.
He clenched a fist, feeling again an urge to shield Tamsin from Malise Comyn and any who might tally her worth, or her sisters’ worth, on their fingers instead of in their hearts. He was sure Henry Keith would feel the same way.
“Lady Tamsin praised her husband for sparing men to escort her to Holyoak to visit. Some husbands would have thought their lady’s interest in scholarly things to be unimportant.”
“He encouraged her interest?” Liam asked.
