Page 62 of The Guardian's Bride

“B-broken?” Colban said, as Marjorie turned away and came back with small shears to open the sleeve along the seam.

“I will fix the sleeve for you later,” Marjorie promised. “Show us your arm, dear.”

He did, snuffling, lip trembling. “It hurts. But knights do not cry.”

“They certainly do,” Rowena said, as she probed along the forearm. “I will not tell and neither will your aunt, so cry if you like. Can you turn your arm that way? Ah, that hurts? Stop, then.”

She turned to Marjorie. “I think there is a fracture, but it could be a bad sprain. I can splint it and wrap it and give him some healing herbs. Would that be fine with you?”

Marjorie blinked at her, wide-eyed. “You know how to treat it?”

“I do. But his father should hear what happened first. I will need some linen wrapping and a few things.” She detailed some of the herbs to make a poultice. Marjorie nodded, promising to fetch those and fetch Aedan as well, then flew from the room.

Rowena spoke calmly to Colban, and soon he laughed tearfully about the dog running on the steps, and how sad silly little Bean would feel if she knew he was hurt.

“We do not need to tell her,” Rowena said, putting a finger to her lips.

Aedan pounded up the steps and rushed into the room, Marjorie behind him. “What happened?”

In his eyes, Rowena saw what she had not seen before in this strong man—fear and love twined together. She saw how deeply he loved his son.He is my world, he had told her once. Then she saw him master it, straighten his shoulders.

“Hey, lad. A wee tumble? It happens to us all. How is Bean, did you save her? I know you did. Brave lad.” He ruffled Colban’s honey-colored curls.

If Rowena had never thought of loving Aedan before that moment, it came to her swift and sure and deep then, watching him laugh with his son.

Chapter Seventeen

“He tripped onthe dog, I think,” Rowena said. “He will be fine, aye, Colban?”

“Aye,” he said, lip quivering.

“Rowena caught him and kept him from falling all the way down. There was water on the steps, and the dog slipped a little,” Marjorie said. “Earlier the servants filled a bath in your chamber, Aedan, and must have missed mopping up.”

“I see. Such things cannot be helped, but thank heavens the boy will be fine. And you, Lady Rowena? Did you fall as well?”

“I am fine,” she said, flexing her ankle, which had begun to ache.

“My arm hurts, but Lady Rowena says she can fix it.”

“She can indeed,” his father said, “and we are grateful she is here to help you.”

“Are you an herb-wife?” Marjorie asked. “One of the cunning folk?”

“I am,” Rowena said.

“She is the very healer who tended me at Holyoak,” Aedan said. “She is the reason I am here today.”

“Truly! We are so fortunate and so grateful to you,” Marjorie breathed.

Lady Jennet came up the stairs just then, with Sir Michael behind her, hurrying through the open door. “What is going on?” the lady asked.

“All is well,” Rowena said, and while the others talked, she prepared a quick poultice with a few herbs in cold water, and rinsed the boy’s arm. With the linen strips and a wooden spoon Marjorie brought at her request, she splinted and wrapped his arm.

“What more will you need, dear? We are so grateful to you,” Lady Jennet said, having just heard of Rowena’s ability.

“If we could have some willow and chamomile steeped in hot water, perhaps with mint or lavender, that will help calm him and help the ache a little.” Nodding, Lady Jennet went downstairs to get the things.

“Does it seem broken?” Aedan asked quietly.