Page 16 of The Guardian’s Bride (Highland Secrets #3)

“C omyn,” Brian muttered. “We should hurry ahead, but a crewman is injured.”

“I will take his oar, but if they pull even with us, Malise must not see the lass.” Aedan noticed Rowena watching the rapidly approaching galley, and called to her.

“Both of you need to keep out of sight,” Brian said.

“True. Lady, sit in the prow and pull your hood up,” Aedan told her. She did.

He went to an empty bench to pick up an oar and set to, with a nod for Tom Robertson and the men near him. Another glance over his shoulder showed the English ship closing fast, powered by more oars in the water and a bigger sail.

“ A-hoi !” came the shouted cry, a Flemish word used often out on the ocean. Malise Comyn cupped his hands to his mouth. “ A-hoi the ship! Haul over!”

Brian motioned for them to slow while Tom Robertson called to the crew, who slowed but did not stop. The two boats aligned, bobbing on the waves. Aedan looked toward Rowena, satisfied that the shadow of the high-curved prow and the slope of her hood would shield her face. In the distance, he saw the pirate ship fade into the fog. He turned back to the work of rowing.

“ A-hoi ! Do you have trouble?” Comyn shouted. From his position on the larger ship, he stood above them, looking down.

“Pirates!” Brian shouted. “Meikle John Reid and his rogues!”

“That rascal! Brian Lauder, is that you, sir? Where are you headed?”

“Dunfermline and back again!” Brian called in response.

Listening, Aedan drew the oars toward him and away in a rhythm.

“Who is the woman?” Comyn asked next.

“Wife!” Brian shouted.

Aedan was grateful for that, though if Comyn came close enough, he might recognize Rowena—and him too. Though he felt a powerful urge to confront the fellow for his reasons and Rowena’s, he would not endanger the girl. He ducked his head and continued to row as they glided beside the English ship.

“What is your business in Dunfermline, Lauder?”

“Supplies!” Brian shouted over the noise of waves and sails. A length of several feet separated the two ships now. “Wife wants to pray at Saint Margaret’s tomb. Where are you bound, sir?”

“Stirling Castle—king’s business!”

“You ought to pursue Meikle John!” Brian called. “If he wants to be useful,” he muttered within Aedan’s hearing.

“I have royal orders to go to Stirling and meet with De Valence, Edward’s chief lieutenant in Scotland.”

Malise did like to sound important, Aedan thought, and might give away too much because of it. He bent to the oar, listening.

“Then I will head back to Fife,” Malise continued. “Tell me! Have you seen Aedan MacDuff? You know the man!”

Aedan’s stomach sank. Brian paused. “Not recently!”

Bless him, Aedan thought, pushing the oars forward and back. If Comyn went to Fife, he would look for his son. Aedan wondered how much time he had to see to his family’s safety and also get Rowena back to her kin.

“MacDuff escaped custody. We are searching. He has a castle in Fife.”

“Fife, aye. But he would head west to join Bruce, I think!”

“He has a woman with him. We are looking for her too. A Keith of Kincraig. Edward wants her brought to him!”

“Must be serious! Head west to find MacDuff—he will not go home if he thinks he might be followed. You will waste your time in Fife. Will you go to Kincraig too?”

“Nay, I cannot waste the king’s time! I am not welcome at Kincraig,” Malise answered. Listening, Aedan almost laughed. “If I find MacDuff, I will find her.”

“If I hear news, I will send word to Stirling.”

“Look for me in Fife soon enough! Farewell!”

“Farewell, sir!” Brian drawled. Aedan heard the sarcasm in it, but Malise did not, for he waved as the galley sailed past.

Aedan bowed to the oar, pouring fury and frustration through muscle as he went forward and back in steady loops. He had to move his family out of Castle Black quickly, and help Rowena as well.

Regardless of what Malise had said, Kincraig was not safe either. All he could do was keep her close until he knew more. Somehow, he would guard against the threats piling on her, though he did not yet know how to resolve them.

Later, as sunlight warmed away the fog and the longship carried them fast across the firth, Aedan stood near the mast and watched the shoreline of Fife growing closer. Home. His heart filled, expanded. Soon he would see his family, and see to the rest of it.

Glancing back, he saw Rowena seated on an empty rowing bench, face raised to the wind, veil blowing back, dark hair slipped loose. Her profile was delicate, beautiful, her cheeks pink from the wind. Perhaps she felt better, he thought, with land in sight.

“Aedan, lad,” Brian said, joining him. “The galley turned west to head up the river toward Stirling.”

“Fair riddance,” Aedan muttered. “If they had decided to dock at Queensferry and go up to Dunfermline, that would bode ill for all of us.”

“I only hope he takes my advice to ride in search of Bruce—and you.”

“The king may want Lady Rowena even more than he wants me. We cannot know which direction Malise will take. We must stay on guard in case he comes back to Fife. Remember, Rowena overheard that Edward wants my son taken hostage. “There is too much damage he could do wherever he goes. And he knows it.”

“What will you do?” Brian asked.

Thoughtful, Aedan studied the shore. “Do you know the fishing village on the point, that way? I have friends there. If we sail in close enough for them to recognize me, they will send a boat out to fetch us. It is close to the castle. I must get home quickly.”

“Aye. When I leave Dunfermline, I can take your family back to Bass Rock with me. They can stay as long as they like, or go over to Tyningham. Lady Ellen would be pleased to see them.”

“Thank you. We could meet you there—day after tomorrow? Aye. Lady Rowena and I will head to Kincraig from there.”

“If Malise goes to Castle Black, he will find a garrison, your family gone, and you and your lady well on your way.”

“Not my lady,” Aedan murmured, watching the sea.

“You would not mind if she was, I think.”

Aedan’s smile was guarded. “What man would not? Even you called her wife, and you happily wed as any.”

“I did not say whose wife she was.” Brian grinned. “You claimed her as wife when the pirates asked. A wonder she has not wed again after her widowing, though Her kinsmen could find a very good match for her. Worthy family and a worthy lady.”

“I gather she keeps busy with her healing work,” he said carefully.

“Ah. If I may say”—Brian glanced at him—“my wife wondered if you might offer for the lady’s hand. Ellen thinks you have great worth as a husband.”

“Huh, with the English on my tail and Edward eager for my head! “But thank her for the compliment. Did she put you up to the suggestion?”

“Possibly. It would do you good to marry again. You could rekindle the betrothal.”

“I suppose I could.” He said it lightly, not quite ready for that suggestion.

“That lass there,” Brian said, “would be a boon for you. Her kinsmen and her character cannot be bettered—and you both seem well matched. Her patience especially recommends her for putting up with you.”

Aedan huffed. “That may be.” He watched the rippling waves, thoughtful, realizing he felt the urge to let go and move on, but unwilling to admit it aloud.

“I loved your sister,” he finally said.

“I know.” His friend was silent for a moment. “Alisoun would not want you to remain a widower. Nor would she want her lad to be motherless all his life.”

“My sister does well with him. But I take your point.” Aedan turned then, sensing a change. Rowena came toward them, dark blue gown blowing back, outlining her lithe figure. He savored the sight of her feminine curves, her glossy dark braid, the sunlight soft on her skin, warm on her shoulders, bright on her widow’s veil.

Brian asked her about the oarsmen she had treated, and while they spoke, Aedan’s thoughts whirled, considering Brian’s suggestion. If Rowena was his wife, he could protect her, be her companion on this mad journey now and into the future. If she was his wife, he would not have to leave her at Kincraig, perhaps never to see her again. If she was his wife, she would know his secrets and keep them. And he would protect hers as his own, always.

Always. That was the part of the truth of a strong marriage, he knew. Always loved, always protected, respected, supported, understood. Always had not been part of his first marriage. Those years had been too short, the years since too long.

Marriage with Rowena Keith would endure and grow. He felt it his bones, his blood, his soul suddenly. Their match would be strong, a union of trust and love.

If he had such a wife, his world might right itself at last.

She smiled up at him, catching his gaze, her eyes the same gray-blue as the sea that flashed all around them. Yet he looked away, his heart and his yearning too obvious.

Then she slipped her hand inside his elbow as if seeking an anchor as the ship surged on the sea. He pressed her hand to his side to lend the stability she sought.

“Aedan MacDuff,” she said, “you are very quiet.”

“Just wanting to see my lad.”

“Before we arrive, let me thank you again. You have been so good to me.”

“Always,” he said.

“I think we have been sighted,” Rowena said a little while later. Shading her eyes, she watched a few men gather along a strip of beach, waving. “Who are they?” “Fishermen from the village above Castle Black,” Aedan said. “Friends all. The big man, blonde in the red plaid, I have known since I was a babe.” He waved and shouted. “Erik Beag! Bring a boat out for us!”

“MacDuff, is it you!” Erik shouted. He and another man pushed a rowing boat off the rocky beach into the water. They jumped in to row to the longship.

Brian took Aedan’s hand. “We will meet you at Dunfermline, then.”

“I am grateful to you. Take care—and keep an eye out.”

“I will. Lady Rowena.” Smiling, Brian inclined his head. When she took his hand to wish him farewell and thank him, he blushed to the roots of his red hair.

The smaller boat came alongside and soon Aedan lifted Rowena in his arms to help her step into the boat, which dipped slightly. Erik, golden-haired and brawny, guided her over a wad of nets to sit on a crossbench in the narrow stern. Aedan stepped down too as Erik slapped him on the shoulder.

“Aedan MacDuff! Fàilte! Welcome, man!” They murmured in Gaelic, and then Erik gave Rowena a broad smile. “Fàilte gu Fìobha! Welcome to Fife, lady!” His English was lightly accented. “I am Erik Ogilvie and this is my brother Andrew. Sit there and soon you will set your bonny foot in Fife.”

She smiled, and Aedan settled on a center crossbench to pick up an oar and dip it in cadence with Erik and Andrew as they sped to shore.

The craft was a currach used for fishing, she knew, common enough on lochs and rivers, and though she had ridden in them on occasion, she had not seen one used on the sea. The long, sleek body of thick oiled hide was tightly shaped to an inner skeleton of curved and fitted branches for a swift, lightweight vessel that could hold half a dozen men as well as nets and fishing gear. It was a good boat, quick and well-balanced.

She sat with hands gripping the sides, but soon realized she felt remarkably safe. The water was calm, the boat light and fast, the men capable, and the shore near. A few men and women stood on the beach, children and dogs running about; inland beyond rocky hillocks lay a cluster of huts and cottages.

Rowena looked left and westward, where the narrow, rocky shoreline wandered into the distance. Far off, she glimpsed the top of a castle’s crenellated tower and parapet. That must be MacDuff’s castle, she thought.

Aedan pointed that way as he chatted in rapid Gaelic with Erik and Andrew. His broad back was to her, but she sensed that he was relaxed, his earlier tension gone as if he had shed a heavy cloak. Aedan MacDuff was home at last—and his relief lifted her own spirits. She smiled as the little boat skimmed along.

What might come next, she could not say. But for now, all was well.

Erik pointed toward the castle and spoke to Aedan. Though she did not understand his rapid Gaelic, Rowena recognized “ Caisteal Dubh” and “ bàta.” Boat.

Aedan glanced at her. “We can continue on the water, or we can walk if you like.”

The currach had been a gentle ride so far. Besides, the boat was fast and she knew Aedan was anxious to be home. “Over the water is fine.”

Lifting his brows in surprise, Aedan murmured to the others and they bent to the oars as the craft followed the curving shoreline. At times the curragh slapped crosswise over small waves, but Rowena held on and smiled, reminded of Aedan’s habit of hiding his reaction that way. Just now his smile was wide and genuine, his laughter as delighted as she had ever heard from him.

Soon the castle loomed above the shore, a massive structure of red sandstone on a green hill. The incline swept down to a sandy crescent scattered with stones and seaweed, the rocky hillside and beach forming a small cove. Above it all, the castle was blocky and forbidding, with round towers at the corners and thick walls pierced by narrow windows.

As the boat pulled into the shallows, Erik leaped out to drag its bow onshore, and Aedan helped Rowena step onto the beach. He turned to speak with his friends, and she walked up the beach a bit, gazing at the rugged beauty of cove and castle. Clusters of pebbles and round stones stretched over the damp sands like a sprawling mosaic so that she stepped carefully. Then she turned to see the men walking nearby.

“àite brèagha,” she managed to say in simple Gaelic. A beautiful place.

Erik grinned. “It is! You and MacDuff will be very happy here.”

She lifted a brow. Did he think she was MacDuff’s bride? She almost smiled.

Aedan murmured to him in Gaelic, and Erik replied with a laugh, patting MacDuff on the shoulder. Moments later, Erik and his brother waved and rowed away.

She waited on the beach for Aedan to return. “Your friends are lovely men,” she said. “Erik said we would be happy here and spoke in Gaelic. What was that?”

“He said it was nice to meet you and hope you have a nice visit.”

She huffed. “He said more than that.”

He chuckled. “Truly, he thought I brought home a bride, seeing your veil and all. I said you were a widow and a friend. So he said I was a baobach , a dimwit, if I did not marry such a fine widow when I need a wife.” He tipped his head.

“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 called Caisteal Duibh, duibh for 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.