Page 32 of Highland Steel

“Blaine is a baby. She cries about everything,” said Newell. “She needs to grow up.”

“Like you?” Rhoswen narrowed her eyes, scowling at her brother.

“I’m sorry. I’ll go try to calm her down.”

“You do that. And keep your mouth closed,” she called out after her brother as he hurried away.

“Lady Rhoswen?”

Rhoswen turned to see Bridget heading her way. Her father collected their things and left in the opposite direction.

“Yes?” she asked, not wanting to answer any questions the girl might ask.

“I’m Bridget Ogilvy, daughter of Brigham, the king’s chronicler,” she told her.

“Yes, I know,” she said, trying to be careful not to say too much more. The girl was very petite with bright red hair. Rhoswen had thought she was much younger until she came close and she studied her face close up. “Was there something you wanted?”

“I just wanted to say that I’m sorry about all the deaths in yer family.” The woman sounded sincere.

“Thank you,” she told her.

“I dinna have a mathair either, so I ken how hard it must be for ye no’ to have either parent.”

“Again, thank you. Now, is there something else you need?”

“I ken ye think I am only here to gain information for the chronicles, but I assure ye, I want to be yer friend.”

“If you want to be my friend, then don’t write anything you’ve heard here today into that book.”

“Oh, well, my faither makes that decision,” she said, looking back to where her father sat moments ago. “I’m sorry, but I canna decide for him.”

“Then do something to change his mind. I don’t fancy the ill deeds of my father being put into writing. As it is, my siblings and I have nowhere to go – nowhere to live. If that story starts being sung by bards from here to the coasts of England, we’re sure to be hunted down like dogs and tortured to pay for my father’s crimes.”

“Och, I hadna thought of that,” she said, seeming to ponder the thought. “Canna ye go back to yer family and yer castle?”

“The only family I have now are Blaine and Newell and my sister’s son who I’ve never even met.”

“There is no one back in England?”

Rhoswen shook her head. “They’re all dead. And I’m sure by now King Richard has stripped my father of his title and seized his castle and lands. There is probably a warrant for his arrest and a high bounty on his head.”

“I had no idea,” said Bridget. “That puts ye in a horrible position. What are ye goin’ to do?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” she said, raising her chin and looking down at the small woman in suspicion. “But whatever I decide, I assure you that you and your father will be the last to know.”

She turned and headed back to the hospice to see to the comfort of her sister, never once even looking back. If she were going to be the head of her family now, she needed to be strong. Rhoswen didn’t need friends who probably weren’t even real. What she needed was to come up with a plan, and to think with a sharp mind. And in order to do that, she had to push her emotions aside. Aye, she needed to harden her heart.

Chapter 12

Logan pounded the nail into the fence with a hard swing, hitting his thumb because he was so angry after his talk with Storm.

“Bid the devil,” he swore, turning and flinging the hammer to the ground.

“Whoa!” said Ethan, throwing his hands up in the air and jumping backward. His hound ran out of the way and took off in the opposite direction. “I think ye’ve found yer new weapon of choice – the hammer.”

“Sorry about that,” said Logan, sitting down on a log and pulling out his whittling knife. Whenever he was upset, he whittled. He’d been doing it since he was a child. It helped to calm him and clear his mind. He picked up a piece of wood and scraped the blade along the surface.

“I take it yer private conversation with Storm didna go well?” Ethan leaned on the fence, reaching over to pet one of the horses on the nose. The corral enabled their horses to run freely during the nicer weather.