Winter Roses by Anita Mills

Author:Anita Mills [Mills, Anita]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781626810372
Publisher: Diversion Books
Published: 2014-01-08T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Her first night at Blackleith she could not sleep, fearing first that ’twas a hostile place, then that ’twas a new world for which she was unprepared. Finally, when William’s breathing had evened out, she dressed and stole from the small solar to seek her son, where he slept with Ewan in the common room at the one end of the hall. Somehow, as she crossed the open yard in the faint moonlight, she found it less frightening outside than in. It was, she supposed, that she was awake to confront her fears.

There’d been no need to worry for Jamie, for she found him sleeping peacefully, his small body snuggled against the back of the grizzled man-at-arms, beneath the smoking light of a pitch torch that hung in the iron ring above. It was not right, she reasoned resentfully, for soon he would come to rely more on Ewan than on her. Already ’twas the man as fed him, bathed him, dressed him, and carried him about. And as far as she could tell, though he made no open complaint, Ewan was as uncomfortable with his orders as she was. She longed to lean down and smooth the small, tousled head of hair, but she did not, for she’d not waken the snoring men. She’d not have any tell William she’d been there.

Satisfied at least that Jamie was all right, she clasped her cloak tightly about her and made her way back out into the cold night air. Again there was naught but the glow of the half-moon above to illuminate the eerily silent courtyard as she crossed it. Then she heard the soft, stealthy movements of someone ahead of her. She stopped suddenly, and her heart rose to her throat at the fear of discovery. She was too late.

“ ’Tis not safe to go about unattended, even in your own castle, lady.”

A figure emerged from deep shadows to confront her, and she jumped, then relaxed with relief. ’Twas but the priest. “Sweet Mary, but you have given me a fright!” she admitted, exhaling to still the rapid beating of her heart.

“ ’Tis too soon, for there are still those here who would strike first, then look,” he chided. “Until the men of Blackleith and the men of Dunashie learn of each other, there is little trust or liking, gentle lady.” His eyes gleamed blackly in the moonlight. “Nay, but were I you, I’d not be out alone.”

“Aye, but we are safe enough: Two men of Dunashie sleep upon pallets in the solar, and the door is barred.”

“Nay, ’tis not, for you are down here.”

She thought she detected a faint smile. “I did but come to see how my son fared,” she explained defensively.

“The lame boy is yours?”

“Aye.” She looked down as he came closer. “And you, Father: I could ask also how ’tis that you are about.”

“I am but come from the chapel. ’Tis just past Matins.”

‘But ’tis not Kelso here. There are no monks to join you.”

“Nay, ’tis not,” he agreed readily.

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