Page 57 of The Guardian's Bride
“Ah.Baobach.A word to remember.” She gave him an impish smile.
He laughed. “Come up to Castle Black.”
“It is not black, but red.”
“Local red sandstone, pink when dry and quite red when damp. In Gaelic, the place is calledCaisteal Duibh, duibhfor black and for MacDuibh or MacDuff. Now we call it Castle Black—it does not catch English attention as easily. They despise anything called MacDuff, person or thing. Well, Edward seems to,” he clarified.
“It is a handsome castle, and may the English stay well away from it.” As she spoke, she walked with him up the beach, going carefully over damp stones slick with surf and seaweed. She bent to pick up a pink stone, turning it in her fingers. “What a pretty stone. A bit of pink rock crystal made smooth by water.”
“You have an eye for those. Does it have healing power?”
“Many such stones have a special quality. This may too.” She tucked it into the purse still damp from its earlier dunking. “This place is beautiful in a rough way, as if torn out of the earth. That rocky wall under the hill has crevices and openings—are there caves under the hill?”
“A few.” He reached out to offer a hand over a slippery patch of rounded rocks. “I will show you later. One has been used as a dovecote for generations.”
“Is that the cooing sound? Doves in the caves?”
“Aye. There are large and small caves there, though some fill with water when the tide is high or storms drive the surf up. A family of travelers stays in the dry caves in the winter months. They are good folk and we let them be. Come up the hill. The castle will have seen us by now.” He led the way up the grassy sward.
“I see guards on the battlement.” At the top of the castle, she saw two men waving, helmets gleaming in the cloudy afternoon light.
“Guards there, kinfolk and servants likely watching from the windows.” As he spoke, shouts sounded from above. “And here comes a wee lad.”
Running past the wide base of the castle toward the hilltop, she saw a woman, a child, and two dogs bounding toward them.
“Aedan! Aedan!” the woman called, lifting her skirts to run.
“Da!” the child screamed.
Chapter Sixteen
“Da!” The boyran on fast little legs to overtake the dogs, then stumbled, laughing, rolling partway down the hill, scrambling to his feet. One of the dogs leaped over him, rounded, nosed at him, then ran in tandem with the boy.
“Colban! Here to me, lad!” Aedan squatted on his haunches, arms spread wide to welcome the boy and the dogs tumbling into his arms and all over him, laughing, barking, the dogs licking faces, bounding over to Rowena, who stepped back, smiling, staying out of the way of the happy tumult. She got her share of licked hands too, though the dogs, one large and one small, wheeled back to the man and boy fast enough.
“It is good to see you!” Aedan managed to stand, little boy hanging off one shoulder, the taller hound bounding up, pawing his chest, panting with delight. “Ach, you lot,” he said to both dogs, “give me a moment with my lad, will you? Look how tall he has grown! All but a man, and his da not here to measure his great feet for new boots!”
“I have new boots, see!” Colban stuck out a foot to show him. “Sir Patrick had them made for me.”
“Sir Patrick? Do you mean our neighbor, Patrick Wemyss? Marjorie, lass!” Aedan grinned as the woman stopped on the hill just above them, hands on hips, her smile wide and dimpled, her cheeks rosy. Her hair, as golden-red as a bright sunset, was braided in a halo around her head beneath a simple kerchief.
“Aedan MacDuff, where have you been these weeks?” She smiled as she spoke. “I am glad to see you hale and whole and still with the living, since we had no word.”
“No time to scare up a messenger! They did not get me yet, and I see the lad is hale and whole too, and I have you to thank for it.” He reached out an arm and she ran to throw her arms around him and the boy too, dogs leaping about.
Rowena stood by, silent and smiling, one hand fending off an affectionate dog. Her eyes stung with tears to see such love, bright and clear, in their greeting. She felt a tug within, a wish that she too was part of that warm, laughing embrace. But she folded her hands, feeling as if she stood outside in the cold, watching through a window as a joyful family sat round a cozy, crackling hearth fire. She yearned for the same, missing the dream of the family she might have had once.
Her family at Kincraig was warm and close. But she had lost her dream of her own little family and had tucked that away. Yet now she saw Aedan MacDuff as the center of his, his big heart and cheerfulness like a glow enveloping them. She smiled, taking in that joy and strength, wishing she were part of it too, with him.
“Greetings, lady,” Marjorie told Rowena. “Aedan, who have you brought us?”
He released his sister, set his son down, and held out his hand to Rowena. “No need to be shy. This is Lady Rowena Keith of Kincraig. I am escorting her home. This is my sister, Lady Marjorie MacDuff, and my son Colban.”
“Welcome to Caisteal Duibh!” Marjorie wove between circling dogs and held out her hands to meet Rowena’s grasp. “Colban, where are your manners, aye?”
“My lady!” Colban bounced toward her and bowed like a knight in a royal court. “I am Colban MacDuff,” he said, straightening and puffing out his little chest, “son of Aedan,son of Duncan, son of Colban, son of Malcolm, son of—stop it, Cheese!” He pushed at the dog nosing into him.
“Cheese!” Rowena laughed, petting the dog’s head. “It is lovely to meet you,Colban mhic Aodh mac Duibh.And Cheese, you too,” she said.
