Page 41 of The Guardian's Bride
“I am fine.” She pushed one of the goats away.
Certain she was not fine, and suspecting the cause, he took her arm. “Come with me.” He led her to one side of the barge, away from the farmer, the goats, the boatman and his son. “You dislike traveling by water. Nor did you eat before we left.”
She blanched. “No talk of food, please.”
“Come here.” He put an arm around her shoulders and drew her close, planting his feet firmly and holding her still to give her a solid wall of sorts. “I used to feel that way as a boy. It is very unpleasant.”
She looked up. “You?”
“Aye. It was embarrassing. You have my sympathy. Luckily, the problem cleared as I got older and rarely bothers me now. An old sailor once told me that watching something in the distance that looks straight and steady, like a castle or trees, can help. Better, standing like this?”
“A bit.”
“Look away from the water. Look ahead.” He took her hand, snugging her fingers against his chest, another anchor. “See that castle on the hill? Watch its tall tower rather than the water.”
She stared up at the castle, and nodded after a few moments. “That does help.”
“Stand here with me. We will be off this thing soon enough.”
“I wish I had some mint. It calms the stomach.”
“We will find some for you at Tyningham.”
“On land, I will not need it.” She gave a frail laugh. “Tyningham?”
“A friend is there. I need to ask a favor.” He patted her hand. “We will dock soon.”
“I am sorry for the trouble.”
“Eh, I do not mind standing here with you. Those goats stink.”
Rowena was gladto stand with MacDuff away from the goats and the fish basket, and glad of the fresh wind on her face as the barge moved along. Once the castle on the hill was out of sight, the barge’s motion crowded her senses again. She leaned anew against the rampart of Aedan MacDuff, and he settled his arm around her as if it had always been so between them. After a while, he pointed to another building on a hill in the distance. She fixed her gaze on the stability of its pitched roof, chimneys, and gray stone walls, which helped more than she expected.
“What is that place? It is not a castle.”
“Tyningham. My friend’s manor house. Then we are for Edinburgh,” he added, with a glance for the two boatmen.
Knowing he invented that part of their journey, she did not reply, focusing on the stable profile of his friend’s house and leaning into MacDuff’s calm solidity. When the barge pulled to the bank to dock at a wooden platform, MacDuff lifted her by the waist to set her on the dock, then stepped out with her. He gave the boatman additional silver, thanked him, and led her to an earthen path.
She flexed her toes in her leather boots, glad to feel firm ground beneath her feet. To the left, she saw a square bell tower and the rooftops of houses. Toward the right, a narrow path cut through trees and went upward toward the house on the hill.
“Wait,” Aedan told her. “The boatman does not need to see where we go.”
“That is Tyningham?” She gestured toward the old stone church and buildings.
“The village and manor house go by the same name. Once the barge is out of sight—ah, there he goes. This way.” He led her toward the inclined path.
“Will your friend be home? Will we be welcome?”
“Welcome, aye, even if he is not there. The path is steep. Can you manage?”
“The sickness passes quickly once I am off the water.” She took up her skirts and swept ahead of him to follow the zigzagging path. Above, the house stood on a cliff with a wide view of the river and surroundings. The clay-tiled roof was bright in sunshine, and soon she saw the top of the wooden palisade that enclosed the bailey.
“What if he is not home?”
“I am known here,” he said as they approached the palisade and its high gate. “Halloo the house! MacDuff here for Sir Brian Lauder of Tyningham and Bass Rock!”
A bolt was thrown and the gate opened a crack. An elderly man with a gray head and white beard peered out.
