Page 48 of The Guardian's Bride
“Our ilk is under threat from the English. I will do all I can to protect them.”
“You are more than a guardian of the realm, sir. You are a protector in your soul, with a way about you that just makes others feel secure. I feel that too.” She blushed.
“Do you? Good. I want you to. And you, lass, have a healing way about you. I feel better in your quiet company. Look at us, hey.” He gave her an impish smile. “Stuff of legend, we two.”
She smiled, could not help it. “I know herbal cures. But you, MacDuff himself, watching over all of Fife for the good of others. It is impressive.”
“Eh, my nephew is true earl and my uncle is true chief. Uncle Duff is imprisoned in Wales, thanks to Edward. I am just there to help.”
Rowena paused on the slope, and caught her loosening braid as the salty wind whipped at her hair, her gown. “Tell me. If Edward has your niece, your nephew, and your uncle—he must want to take you down as well, and your son. Is it so?”
He drew a long breath, looking out to sea. “That is the way of it.”
“What you do for your clan takes remarkable bravery.”
“Not really. It is what I need to do, and so will do. Last year I offered coin for my uncle’s release. Edward refused my bargain. But he was reminded of my existence and asked questions. I did not need that.”
“You have much on your shoulders, Aedan MacDuff.”
“Good they are big, hey.” With a quick smile, he plucked a mallow blossom and slid the flower into her hair, fingers smoothing there. A sweet chill ran through her as his gaze caught hers and held. She took a frond of sea beet and stuck it behind his ear. Leaving it there, he led the way down the slope.
“I was surprised to see such a lush meadow on this rock,” she said as they went.
“Plants grow well up here. When Brian and I were lads, his father brought a small flock of sheep to graze. Sometimes they would fall into the sea. We dove in and rescued one or two, and were lucky not to drown. His father was upset about the risk we took. But I always thought the sheep appreciated it.”
“I am sure they did. You spent a good bit of time here?”
“I did. His father fostered me for a few years. A good man, and a good place for me. Before that, because my father was dead and my mother married again and was living elsewhere, my brother and I fostered with the Bishop of Saint Andrews. I think I told you he wanted me to be a priest, as my brother was already earl.”
“You were too spirited for priesthood, I imagine.” Shading her eyes, she looked toward the coast to see the ragged blur of a castle and a town. “So the Lauders have held Bass Rock a long while?”
“Since the time of King Malcolm Canmore. Long before that, an acolyte lived alone here. Baldred, he was called. See those ruins over there—that was his wee house.” He pointed. “He was made a saint for staying here to pray for our sorry souls. He should have been sainted for putting up with noisy seabirds and eating sea-spinach.”
“Sea-beet. Scotland could use such prayers now.”
“Indeed so. Watch your step.” He took her hand, his fingers firm, then let go. She reached up to pluck away the sea-beet frond flopping over his ear.
“Will we find themédecinin the dungeon?” she asked.
“Aye, if you do not mind going to such a place again.”
“I do not mind.”Not if you are with me.But that felt too bold to say aloud.
Aedan stood bywhile Rowena examined the prisoner and spoke quietly with Sir Walter Forbes, the barber-surgeon, who was knowledgeable, calm, and showed respect for Rowena’s comments. Aedan was glad to see that.
“For his cough and fever,” she said, “you might try the rare mallow that grows here. I picked some this morning. Simmer it down to a syrup—it can help a cough and stomach ailments too,if needed.” She handed him a few of the mallow plants she had plucked.
“Good suggestions, thank you. I have seen lovage growing high on the rock too, useful for wounds,” Forbes said.
Aedan watched as Rowena nodded thoughtfully, standing beside the prisoner, a young man with flaxen hair and clammy skin. Seated on a cot, he coughed and looked exhausted. The compact stone cell held a narrow bed and small table beneath a barred window that emitted weak light. The place was damp and dim. He knew what life was like in such places, how easily it was to take ill.
“Another suggestion,” Rowena said. “Bring him outside more often. He needs fresh air and sunshine. The salty sea air will help his cough as well.”
“I must ask permission to do that and it may require extra guards outside.”
“Where is he going to go? Jump off the rock?” she asked bluntly.
Aedan suppressed a smile, enjoying this clear, direct aspect of Lady Rowena’s nature. He was not sure Forbes appreciated it, for the fellow looked sour.
