Page 22 of It Began With A Kiss
There would be no friendship, if Aiden were to guess, coming from the woman. He shook off the hostility that still lingered in the air and began making his way downstairs. The great hall was mostly empty save a servant tending the fire and he wasted little time crossing the room and entering the kitchen. Cook was busy ordering the servants around as he worked on the evening meal, and Aiden again paid no mind to the chaos. He was too concerned with a red-haired beauty freezing herself to death in the cold lower areas of a musty dungeon.
He was about to descend into the bowels of the castle when he stopped a nearby servant coming out of the pantry. “Do we have a healer?” Aiden asked.
“Aye, my laird,” the girl stated. “She has a hut on the outskirts of the village. Her name is Joan.”
“Send someone quick to fetch her so she might tend a prisoner,” Aiden ordered and then watched the girl scurry away to do his bidding.
He took a torch from the wall to light his way and began making his way down the narrow set of steps. The lower he went, the cooler the air became until he, too, wondered at the wisdom of choosing to find the lady of the keep. Whispered words could finally be heard when he reached the bottom level and Aiden stayed in the shadows to observe Iona busily tending the moaning, injured man.
“Ye were a fool tae trust him, Angus,” she scolded while dipping a cloth in a basin of water. “Whatever were ye thinking?”
“I wasna, milady. That be the problem.” He hissed when she laid the linen on his torn flesh.
“Broden is worse than the scum beneath our feet. Ye would be smart tae stay well away from him,” Iona counseled.
“He’s been a friend…” Angus began then hissed when Iona laid another strip of linen on his back.
A snort left the lady’s lips. “Friend… Broden Ferguson has no notion of the meaning of the word friend. He’s a selfish lout who thinks only of himself and his own ambitions,” she growled out, whilst wringing out another strip of linen from the basin of water and laying it on his back. “Do ye know where he is hiding?”
“Nay, milady,” Angus replied.
“Ye would not lie tae me?” she asked, waiting for his reply.
“Nay, milady,” Angus answered before adding, “He was hiding out in the barn at the far edge of the village, but I heard he’s disappeared again.”
Iona gave a heavy sigh. “I suppose the rat will surface again when it suits his mood and not before. Ye will tell us if ye hear anything.”
“I am not likely tae learn of anything down here, milady,” he said.
“I am certain Laird Aiden willna keep ye here for long. Not when ye can be of more use tae us above ground.”
“Ye have my word I will help ye find him if given the chance. I have no notion tae taste the lash of the whip again for him or any who support him.”
“Ye have made the right choice, Angus,” she replied putting another strip across his back. “I am certain, since observing your punishment, not many would offer tae hide Broden. He is most likely on his own scavenging for food and finding a place to lay low.”
“Not if they dinnae wish tae feel the lash…”
Aiden had heard enough, and he stepped forward into the light of the area. Several cells lined the stone walls but only one was currently occupied. “Come, Iona,” he urged, holding out his hand to her. “I have asked someone to fetch the healer who should be down shortly to take care of Angus.”
Her head rose from her task and her blue eyes reflected her gratitude. Cold fingers folded themselves into the palm of his hand whilst he helped her to her feet.
“He has no knowledge of where Broden is hiding, my laird,” she said softly.
Aiden’s brow lifted. “And do you believe him?”
“Aye. There is no reason for Angus tae tell us a falsehood. He has already felt the lash once. He has no desire tae feel such pain again,” Iona answered, and Aiden saw her shiver. He put his arm around her, offering whatever warmth from his body he could share with the lady.
“Let us away and get you near a fire to warm yourself,” Aiden murmured whilst turning to leave the dismal coldness of these lower levels of the keep.
“What of Angus?” she asked, turning to gaze upon the now still man who appeared as if he had passed out.
“I will have him moved to a chamber above to recuperate.”
Iona nodded and Aiden escorted her toward the stairs just as Joan, the healer, was coming down them. “See to Angus’s wounds and inform me once he is awake.”
“Aye, my laird,” she said firmly, whilst brushing past them and going to her patient.
They climbed the many stairs until they were once more on the level of the kitchen. The heavenly aroma of freshly baked bread and venison turning on a spit filled the room, causing Aiden’s stomach to rumble. He led Iona into the great hall and settled her in a chair near the oversized hearth. He supposed the chair had previously been reserved for the lady of the keep. It seemed only fitting that she continued to use the chair at her leisure.
