Page 24 of The Guardian's Bride

The Guardians of the Realm of Scotland was such a heroic name. Aedan’s brother would be a member as an earl, despite his age, and Aedan yearned to be part of it too.

Later, at supper, True Thomas spoke to him, an unexpected honor.

Thee, lad,the old man had said,I see a warrior and a guardian in thee. One day thee will carry much on big shoulders. Guard the crown, the blade, and the crystal.

“Sir?” He felt bewildered. “My brother will be a guardian of Scotland, not me. I want to be a knight, but the bishop thinks I should be a priest.”

Listen now. Knight, not priest. Guard Scotland and its treasure. Look for the woman with the crystal stone.The Rhymer patted his shoulder and walked away.

Guarding a crown and a crystal sounded like something out of an Arthurian tale. Though he enjoyed such stories, Aedan had dismissed it as imagination.

Now he remembered the old Rhymer’s unlikely message, his vivid blue eyes, his stirring aged voice. Years later, Aedan was given the responsibility to look after the Scottish regalia—yet how strange that Thomas hinted at it earlier.

And now the old man’s great-granddaughter sat beside him. Aedan stared at her with sudden understanding. The blade, the crown—and the woman with the crystal. Could that have something to do with what the Rhymer had said? The coincidence was too much. He rubbed his brow, puzzled, hoping to remember more.

“Why did you mention stones?”

He cleared his throat. “Stones and plants and wee scissors, is that what you have? We need weapons and food. Perhaps they left some supper on the fire.”

“That would be a risk. We can find water and berries in the woodland.”

“A fine supper for a faery sprite like you, but this great troll needs more substance.”

She laughed. Good. Levity would help if they were to get through this day with their heads still attached to their shoulders.

He watched the riders disappear into the distance, relieved, his thoughts churning. He might have married this lass once—yet she was the one who had saved him, and who reappeared today. He shook his head, unable to put it all together. Did she know about the betrothal, being so young then?

“Lady, there is something you should know. You might not recall it. You were very young.”

She tilted her head in a way that he was coming to know—curious, keen, her thoughts keeping pace with his. “Do you mean our near betrothal, Aedan MacDuff?”

“So you remember.”

“I knew a match was discussed when I was young. My brother heard your name at Holyoak and reminded me. He thinks highly of you.”

“I like him. Our paths have crossed. I liked your father too, and the Rhymer as well. They favored the union, but the Bishop of Saint Andrews objected. That was that.”

She gave him a sidelong glance. “Papa and Grandda both approved of you.”

“If you must throw in your lot with a rogue, at least he is a known rogue.”

“A rogue who owes me his good behavior.”

He huffed. “He does indeed. We have something in common, which should make the journey more pleasant for you.”

“I hope the unpleasant part is over.” She shivered and glanced at Yester.

“I agree.” He peered through a gap in the wall. “They are gone. We can leave.”

“Should we take horses from the stable?”

“I would rather hang for treason than horse thieving. The river is not far, though we might be seen walking in the open.” He picked up the helmet. “I will look like an English soldier. But you—” He scrutinized her. “Take that gown off.”

“What?” She set a hand to her chest.

“I may look a beast, but I am not that sort. Take off your gown and turn it inside out. I see another color there.”

“This?” She flipped the gown’s hem to show the underside, a lining of unbleached flax linen in a pale earthy color.