Page 14 of The Guardian’s Bride (Highland Secrets #3)

S unlight heated the summit of the great rock and the wind pushed at her, though she planted her feet firm, gown filling, veil and braids blowing back. She set a hand to her head and turned away from the wind. Seabirds—gannets, she saw, white with black-tipped wings—skimmed overhead and sank out of sight beyond the rock to seek their nests or glide over the water.

Rowena smiled, shading her eyes with a hand. Seen from the height of the massive rock, the sea was beautiful, endless. She enjoyed views of the ocean, the bays and firths, the lochs and rivers she had seen in childhood and later. Traveling on water was another matter, her reaction something she could not easily remedy.

But sailing was the only way off this rock island, and soon she and MacDuff would go over the waves to Fife. This morning she had climbed to the meadowy area high on the rock hoping to find some curative among the growth there. The rock supported stretches of grassy turf, wildflowers, mosses, herbs, and plants. Much of the broad rock surface was glazed in bird droppings too, but she avoided those as she gathered a straggling bouquet that included mallow with pinkish-purple flowers, a few long stems of sea beet, some lovage, parsley, soft mosses, and wild lichens.

Hearing a shout above the constant rush of the sea, she turned to see Aedan walking up the steep slope from the castle. He waved and she did too.

Already she felt comfortable with him, trusting him quickly though she normally kept a reserve around strangers. But as he had pointed out, they were hardly strangers, with a brief and unique acquaintance. Once she had done her utmost to save him; later, he had been there when she most needed help. It seemed almost miraculous.

Desperation and danger had furthered trust and familiarity, and she realized that when she was finally home, she would miss him greatly. She smiled as he came closer.

“Sir Aedan! Have you come out to enjoy the sun and fresh air?”

“I came up here to find you, but the air and sun do feel good.” He grinned. The wind whipped through his thick brown curls and the sunlight added sparkle to his eyes. He had given up his English surcoat and wore his tunic, trews, and plaid, garments that seemed far more natural to him.

The wind filled her veil and billowed the hem of the dark blue woolen gown that Lady Ellen had given her. When the wind batted her veil free, she reached for it just as Aedan snatched its tail and handed it to her. He brushed back strands of hair that blew over her forehead, and she straightened the veil to try and wrap it over her head again.

“Leave it,” he said. “The winds will just undo it again. You look fine without it.”

The shiver that went through her had naught to do with wind. She tucked the veil into her belt and waved the wildflowers in her hand. “I wanted to see what plants I could find here. They are unusual sorts. I have never seen this kind of mallow before.”

“Bonny,” he said, looking at her rather than the straggling plants. “Best come down from this great rock before the wind takes you over the edge.” He grasped her elbow to lead her down the rough incline back toward the castle.

“I have a request for you from Sir Brian’s médecin, ” he said, “who heard you have some skill. He wants your opinion on one of the men held in the dungeon.”

“I can try to help.”

“I thought you might agree. Also, Brian told him you had some trouble on the boat, so the fellow offered to give you some ginger for the sickness.”

“Ginger! How kind. It is rather costly.”

“An expense covered in the accounts here, no doubt. I also wanted to let you know that we sail this afternoon, so you may be glad of the ginger.”

“I might. How long is it from here to Fife?”

“About three hours, more if rain moves in.” He pointed toward the distant sky, where gray clouds gathered on the horizon. “What plants do you have there?”

“This is mallow, good for wounds and digestion, and this one is a kind of parsley. These long fronds are a small beet plant that rather likes salty climates, as it grows near beaches and sea cliffs. I thought to dry them and bring them back to Kincraig. I have a little cottage there where I make some remedies. It used to belong to my aunt, who left it to me,” she added softly.

“She taught you well. I think we ate that weedy-looking bit for supper last night.”

“The sea-beet? We did, with the baked fish. It tastes rather like spinach and is nicely salty. When I recognized it, I wanted to see if I could find some.”

“Will any of those help your sickness?”

“Not much. Perhaps the mallow, though it thickens when boiled, so it is not very appealing on an upset stomach.”

“I wish I could help, lass, but I know little about cures and things.”

“You did help when you told me to find straight lines in the distance. I had not tried that trick before. I just wish I did not have this—flaw.”

“Flaw? You have none. Me, I have more than enough for both of us.”

“You! Not a one. Well, fewer than you think,” she teased, laughing. He chortled, wind blowing through his curls, ruffling his beard.

She felt a thrill of joy over so small a thing as his low, easy, lovely laugh. She had never known anyone who made her smile as much as Aedan MacDuff did. Wondering at that, she stared at him. He tilted a brow in question.

“I am devilish impatient sometimes,” he said.

“So am I. Patience is not my virtue.”

“You have been more patient with me than I could ever ask. And I am sorry we must go over the water again to reach Fife.”

“I know you need to get there to see your family. Your wee son.”

“My lad, aye.” He smiled. “His name is Colban. He is five. He is my heart.”

“I can tell. Your sister looks after him?”

“My sister Marjorie and my aunt, Lady Jennet, live with him at Castle Black. I thought it would be a safe place for them. But Edward wants to change that.” He frowned, watching the rippling white-tipped sea beyond the great rock.

“You are very concerned about their safety.”

“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 the médecin in 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 by while 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.

“Outings are not common practice with dungeon prisoners, though it could be arranged.”

“Good. In fact, all the prisoners should be allowed outside regularly for air and sunshine,” she replied. “If you want these men to be healthy, do arrange it. Try to add sea beets and parsley to their diet as well. It grows abundantly in the grassy areas here, and will help the prisoners—and everyone here.”

“I can get the plants, but I need permission to take the prisoners outside,” Sir Walter said.

“As the lady pointed out, they can hardly escape,” Aedan said. “You could let them wander outside all day and not lose a one. Perhaps they could do some fishing and be well occupied and useful.”

“I will speak to Sir Brian.”

“You will find no objection there, is my guess,” Aedan said, and Walter nodded.

Rowena bent toward the prisoner. “May I see your tongue, sir, and your teeth?” He obliged as she peered. “Aye, sea beet will help. You will feel much better soon, I think. What is your name?”

“Sir Austin Grey,” he said in a hoarse voice. “Son of the Earl of Aylesford.”

“His father is an advisor to King Edward,” Sir Walter murmured. “Sir Austin is heir to the earl and a companion to the Prince of Wales.”

Rowena gave the young man a kind smile. “I hope you will not be here long, sir,” she murmured. “Sir Walter, I could do something else for him if we had a cup of water.”

“Here.” Sir Walter poured water from a pottery jug into a wooden cup, and Rowena took it. She opened her belt pouch, removed a translucent white stone the size of a small plum, and dropped it into the water. She passed her hand over it in light, fey-like gestures, as if she cast a glamourie over the young man. Watching the dance of her fingers, Aedan felt bespelled himself.

“Is fresh water transported to this isle?” she asked.

“The only fresh water source here is rain we catch in barrels,” Sir Walter answered. “And barrels of fresh water are brought from the mainland each week.”

She nodded, casually circling a flat palm over the water as if lost in thought. Suddenly remembering moments at Holyoak, Aedan continued to watch, curious.

“Austin Grey needs water,” she said. “His body thirsts for it. Everyone here needs more, I think. Sir Aedan, might we ask Sir Brian if more barrels can be brought here?”

He nodded, leaning a shoulder against the open door of the cell. “I will do so.”

She plucked the stone from the water and set it on the table, then handed the cup to Sir Austin. He sipped it slowly.

“I have heard of using stones in healing, my lady,” Sir Walter said, “but I have not seen it done. I wonder if they are just superstition, or if they have some effect.”

“They do have some benefit. Those who know stones choose them carefully and then prepare them by infusing them with charms and healing chants. The stones leach their nature into the water, which can lend strength to those who drink it,” she explained. “Stones can help cool fevers and soothe aches. They can calm the mind and the spirit if dipped in water or wine that is then swallowed. Sir Austin should have some each day for a week at least. Here,” she said, handing the stone to Sir Walter. “You may have this one.”

“Lady, I cannot take your stone if it is special to you.”

“I have others. Take it,” she insisted. He did.

Standing by the door, Aedan remembered how Rowena had used a special stone months ago to treat him. In fast, foggy images, he recalled seeing a translucent white stone dropped into water; hands moving gracefully; her voice, chanting softly; and cool, wet stones on his fevered skin. The woman with the crystal, as Thomas had once mentioned. The stone she had shown him at the tavern, the Rhymer’s stone, was wrapped in silver bands, different than the stone she gave Walter Forbes.

Waiting, Aedan admired her skill, her calm, her humility, her simple beauty—long dark hair, creamy flushed skin, full and tender lips, eyes of stormy gray.

He just wanted to gaze at her, take in her gentle grace, like a balm for the soul. Being near her made him feel better, calmer somehow. In a way, she was like a balance for him, her calm and compassion filling gaps in his sometimes hasty, troubled spirit.

Last February, in a fevered fog, he had leaned into her healing strength while his body, his very spirit, recovered. He fell in love with her a little, a mingling of gratitude, relief, awe. Now, standing by while she worked, he felt that rush through him again.

This time, gratitude and admiration were riper, fuller, more real, filling him. He was falling in love not with an ideal, but with the woman standing a few feet away. Sucking in a quick breath, he wondered if that was indeed so—and what to do about it.

She bid Sir Walter and Sir Austin farewell, and as they thanked her, Aedan recognized the spark in Austin’s eyes. The young knight had fallen a little in love with her too, lured by her calm magic, leaning on her every word, his eyes sparkling, cheeks flushed. Sir Walter took her hand and thanked her again. Aedan had thought him sure of his own worth and skeptical of hers, but his gesture now was warm.

She turned, her quick smile just for Aedan, gentle and intimate, as if they shared a secret. Crinkling his eyes in affection, he marveled. She glowed from within, peaceful, alluring, beautiful, and unaware of it. He had never met a woman like her. The little sparkle in her eyes could knock him over. That soft hand could heal all his ills.

As they left the cell, Aedan turned.

“Sir Walter,” he said, “were I you, I would do whatever the lady suggests. I am alive today because of her skill.”