Page 86 of The Guardian's Bride
“Margaret will hear your prayers.” The bishop smiled and went toward the door.
“So,” Aedan said, taking her arm, “according to Scots law, we are as good as wed.”
“I would like a ceremony with family, would you?”
“I would. Whatever you wish, we will do.”
“If you wish it too.” She rose for a kiss. “Hurry back.”
In the royalchapel that extended past the altar, Rowena knelt beside the marble plinth that supported Margaret’s large, beautifully decorated tomb. Every Scottish child knew that Queen Margaret answered Scottish pleas and assisted women especially. Long ago, as an English princess stranded in Scotland, Margaret married King Malcolm Canmore to becomean exemplary queen, wife, mother, and pious soul who died of heartbreak when her husband and eldest son perished in the same battle. Years later, another son, also a king, built the chapel and petitioned Rome to declare his mother a Scottish saint despite her English origins. She was dearly loved, Rowena thought.
Rising from her prayers, she whispered thanks for protection from her troubles of late and asked blessings for those she loved, adding thanks for the healing water, and a final wish for peace in Scotland. But she knew that without some of these troubles, she might never have found Aedan. Now she could not imagine life without the vital, somewhat unpredictable man, who made her feel loved and changed for the better.
She wondered how long Aedan might be, and if she had time to go to the market square and come back before he returned to look for her.
Hearing a door and footsteps out in the nave, she was startled. Was he back so soon? But the rhythm of the steps did not belong to Aedan; she knew his gait now. Another man was coming this way—two, she realized, perhaps three, for she heard uneven steps, the chink of chainmail and the thunk of heavy footfalls.
Fear flashed through her; she dared not be discovered here unless she knew who they were. Slipping behind Margaret’s tall, canopied tomb, she stood in the narrow space between the marble catafalque and the wall.
“No one is here.” The voice was familiar. She narrowed her eyes. Another man answered in a low, indistinct murmur, and the first man spoke again, louder.
“What do you mean, the abbot refused to see us? We are here by king’s orders!”
Malise Comyn! Gasping, Rowena covered her mouth to smother the sound.
“The clerk said the abbot was meeting with Scottish officials and then would be at his prayers. He told us to return tomorrow.” The second voice was clearer now, unfamiliar, but Scottish as well. The other had not yet spoken. Their steps and voices echoed as they walked up the nave.
“Abernethy! Did you ask after MacDuff?” Malise demanded.
“We did, but the clerk said he has not been here for months. The clerk would not even permit Brother Hugo to see the abbot.”
“Even me,” Hugo confirmed.
Shocked, Rowena leaned to hear more. The fact that Brother Hugo and Abernethy were here with Malise meant only trouble. The English galley had not sailed away after all. If they saw Brian Lauder’s longship in the harbor at North Queensferry, that might prompt them to search in Dunfermline if Malise was unconvinced.
“The clerk refused even when I said our orders were from the king. He was unimpressed,” Hugo went on.
“Because they regard Bruce as their king now, the fools,” Malise said in a sour tone. “This church seems deserted. If MacDuff did come to Dunfermline, he would be recognized, but they might protect him. That clerk likely lied to you.”
In the shadows, hearing footsteps, Rowena prayed they would not come closer.
“We saw Castle Black from the water, but I want to ride there,” Malise said. “I suspect MacDuff and the Keith girl did come to Fife, though Lauder said otherwise. He knew something, I suspect.”
“The lieutenant at Stirling said MacDuff could be anywhere,” Abernethy said. “Perhaps they went west to Kincraig.”
“I am not welcome there, but you can go there, Abernethy. You need to hire horses. Promise the Crown will pay later and let the stable worry about getting the coin.”
“What about the MacDuff boy?” Brother Hugo asked.
“That has to wait. I want MacDuff and the girl. They have gone to ground somewhere, but where?”
The footsteps faded as they walked away. Rowena waited, trembling, sick about the threat that had come to this peaceful place—and she dreaded what might happen if Aedan encountered them, for he would not hesitate to confront them on behalf of his son, his home, and his loved ones.
All seemed quiet, so she slipped out of the chapel to peer down the nave. At the far end of the church, she saw the glint of steel and a flash of color as Malise and the others stepped into a side chapel. Somehow, she had to get out without being seen so she could warn Aedan. Moving on silent feet, she ducked behind a pillar and paused. Both arms of the church had side doors, but she might be visible if she ran to either.
Then she heard the sound of the main door and a flurry of footsteps on slate. “Rowena! Rowena! Are you here?” A high, light, dear voice called out.
Colban!Heart in her throat, a fierce need to protect the child eclipsing all else, she moved away from the pillar and rushed down the nave.
