Page 100 of The Guardian's Bride
“What is this!” Edward was on his feet now, bellowing. Aedan realized the king had been shouting and he had not heard, nor had Rowena turned. “Come here!”
Rowena turned, took Aedan’s arm, and walked him—Henry and Patrick behind them—toward the king and Malise.
“Sire,” Aedan said, not waiting for anyone to speak for him, “I am Aedan MacDuff of Fife. I understand you wish to see me. And I wish to see you,” he added.
His heart pounded hard and fast. He knew the gamble he was about to take. Rowena stared up at him. They all stared. The silence was brittle.
Edward stayed on his feet, though he seemed a bit wobbly. “What could you, a MacDuff, possibly say to the King of England? Caught like a fugitive—we should have you thrown in a dungeon!”
“Sire, you did for a bit, but I left. Would you punish an ambassador representing Scotland? The Pope takes a dim view of such things, I hear.”
“Ambassador?” Edward sat.
“I am interim Guardian of the Realm of Scotland in place of my young nephew, Duncan MacDuff, Earl of Fife, who you hold hostage.” His voice was strong and resonant in the surrounding silence of the overwarm tent.
“Guardian?” Edward frowned. “You?”
The old king must have forgotten, for he had known. “Sire, I am not an earl. But in my nephew’s absence and as his nearest kinsman, I act on his behalf. His sister, Lady Isabella, is currently a victim of your hospitality. I believe the Pope has been advised of the treatment you have accorded the royal women of Scotland.”
Aedan knew the impact the Pope’s disapproval could have. He also knew that a sick and aging king would want his sins forgiven or at least overlooked. Edward would not relish a papal reprimand at this point in his life.
All part of the gamble. He waited.
The king had turned even more pale and drawn. “What do you want, MacDuff?”
“Sire, weeks ago, the council of guardians sent another plea for terms in the negotiation regarding the captive Scotswomen. Our terms and our offer of compromise were refused, without discussion or countermeasures.”
“We will not release those women until Bruce relinquishes his claim to the throne of Scotland. That is why we are invading again. The point shall be hammered home.” Edward projected his voice louder than before.
“Sire, hammer your point. But not on the backs of women. Not when Rome is watching you and reading letters detailing your behavior—and your sins.”
“What compromise does the council offer?” Edward said. “We do not recall that any terms were delivered.”
They were, Aedan thought. Was Edward trying to crawl away from it now? “We demand the humane release of the women back to Scotland. Until that time, the ladies held in cages on public display must be removed to convents for the sake of their health and dignity. That was the latest message of the council. I witnessed the letter.”
The king stared at him, fingers drumming. His eyes flashed to Rowena, then to Malise, Henry, and back to Aedan.
“Who can verify that this man is a Guardian of Scotland and acts in that capacity?”
“I can,” Brian said, stepping forward from the back of the tent. “Sir Brian Lauder, Lord of Bass Rock and justiciar of Lothian. Sir Aedan is on the guardian council.”
“I can,” Patrick said. “Sir Patrick Wemyss, Sheriff of Fife.”
“I will. Sir Henry Keith of Kincraig and nephew of the Marischal of Scotland.”
Edward looked at Malise. “You?”
“MacDuff is on the council of guardians,” Malise groused. “He also escaped one of our prisons, and Your Grace wanted him brought to justice.”
Edward waved his fingers. “What about you?” he asked Rowena.
She caught her breath at the unusual request for a woman’s word in such a situation. “Your Grace, Sir Aedan is as he says—an interim guardian of Scotland, acting chief of Clan Duff, and uncle to the current earl and a captured Scotswoman. And he is one of the best men I have ever known. We are betrothed to marry.”
Aedan’s heart surged. He wanted to reach for her hand, but his were bound.
Edward cast a sharp look at him. “You are betrothed to Rowena Keith?”
“We were pledged in childhood.” He glanced down at Rowena, who moved closer, her arm brushing his.
