Page 34 of The Guardian's Bride
“He—wants something from my family,” she said carefully. “He seemed unhappy about the accusations and said he would try to undo it if I—well, he said he would try to help. He was courteous and apologized. I almost believed him.”
Aedan narrowed his eyes. “What did he really want?”
“You know his ways, then. Whatever it was, I might have had to pay it—but you were there. I thank the angels for that.”
“Thank them from me as well.”
“I had helped Sir Malise last winter when he was severely injured, and he claims he owes me his life. So when he was there at Yester, it felt like a betrayal.”
“You are a trusting soul. Perhaps it is the healer in you.”
She shrugged. “It could be. He fell and injured his back, and they brought him to Holyoak. A nun pushed him off a parapet,” she added with an impish smile.
He laughed, shook his head. “I heard something about that. Likely he deserved it. So, you healed him, as you healed me.”
“Not me. The body heals itself with the person’s inner spirit and God’s help. Those who know cures and treatments assist.” She glanced down, aware that she had used the Rhymer’s crystal for Malise, but only to dip in water, which she might have done for anyone, regardless of who they were or what they had done.
“I know you did more than simply assist me, lass.” His gaze was steady. “But it might have been a fever dream. I thought you used a stone and sang a chant.”
She looked away. So he remembered the faery stone. She had used it more completely to help Aedan MacDuff, much more than for Malise.
Yet Malise had told Edward, who wanted the stone. She sighed. “You healed well, being a strong, healthy man.” She felt herself blush again. “You never answered my question, Sir Aedan.”
“Question?” He folded his arms, leaned back, the plaid covering only part of his broad, gleaming torso. He watched her through hooded eyes. She wished she could read his thoughts, but he kept a barrier of humor, of ease, a man who seemed to take life lightly—while hiding a deeply serious nature. She was beginning to see it now.
“Kingmaker,” she repeated. “Is that you?”
Chapter Ten
“Not me. Mynephew—and my niece, acting in her brother’s place.” He leaned forward, forearms on knees, hands clasped, damp curls framing his face. He was very handsome, she thought, distracted; his appeal was powerful in that small room. “Young Duncan is the earl of Fife. His father—my brother—was killed weeks before his birth. So he was born in England because his mother fled to her uncle—King Edward. Duncan is fifteen, Edward’s ward, and has never set foot in Scotland.”
“I did not know. Then his sister, Lady Isabella, is your niece.”
“Aye, but raised in Scotland, a ward of the bishop of Saint Andrews. My brother was twenty-six when he was killed in an ambush, so I took on some responsibilities since his children were little.”
“How awful to die so young,” she said.
“The same happened with our father and our grandfather. Being close to the throne of Scotland brings privilege and danger, especially with the English conflict. Fathers who are killed young leave small sons in roles that require warriors.”
“Sadly so. What responsibilities came to you?”
“A position that belongs to the Earl of Fife. Guardian of the Realm of Scotland.”
She gasped. “The council of earls and bishops that govern Scotland?”
“Aye. My position is an interim, if young Duncan ever returns. Now that Bruce is king, the regent role of the guardiansis changing.” He shrugged. “And I have other duties. My brother’s death and his heir’s absence left much to manage in Fife. But I would do anything to help fill my brother’s boots—and his son’s too. I have never met my nephew, but he has my loyalty in Fife and Scotland. And my niece too. Isabella means a great deal to me. I care for her as if she were a daughter.”
“Her captivity must be very distressing for you. I heard about her fate. But I did not realize—the rest of it, that Edward would take revenge on the MacDuffs because of their role in crowning Scottish kings.” She shook her head in disbelief.
“Aye. It is infuriating. Heartbreaking.” He looked away.
Her heart broke for him, for his kin, in that moment. Outside, thunder rumbled, shook the walls. She desperately wanted to reach out to him, but kept still.
“Then you were arrested for being a MacDuff.”
“Anyone who shares the blood-right of crowning the king of Scots is a threat in King Edward’s regard.” He set his hands on his thighs, then stood. “And I have done deliberate treason in English eyes.”
Rowena looked up. Standing over her, he seemed a giant, filling the room with presence, as if his head might touch the raftered ceiling, his wide, gleaming shoulders press the walls apart.
