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“Fair point,” Caelan chuckled.
The conversation had taken an unexpected turn and Caelan could see the lass was getting uncomfortable, so he shifted the subject. “Where did ye get the salve, lass?”
“It’s one of the many Peter had stored,” she smiled. “He would get a lot of scrapes and bruises so he began to collect all sorts of remedies. He has everything from salves to treatments for snake bites.”
“A man of me own heart,” Caelan admitted. “Back at home, there are cures in me medicine room for almost everything except childbirth and death. Come to ken of it, there is a cure for childbirth.”
“And that is?” Adelaine asked.
“Become a nun,” Caelan deadpanned.
The lass’ hand clamped her mouth, her eyes crinkling with mirth even as she tried to suppress the laughter trickled from her. Caelan’s heart warmed within his chest. He reached through the bars and pulled her hand away. He needed to hear her voice.
Her laughter was soft, sweet and merry, and with her dark hair slipping over her shoulder and her light brown eyes sparkling with happiness—he had never wanted to kiss a woman that much in his life.
Closing his hand around hers, he smiled. But when he glanced at the darkness the window showed him, he had to pull back. “It’s time for you to go back, lass.”
“Pardon?”
He jerked his head to the window. “It's late.”
She followed his gaze and surprise was on her face. “Oh Lord, I do need to go.” Standing hastily to her feet, she shoved the jar back into her coat. “Thank you for telling me…” then her hand reached through the bars and held his hand before pulling away. “Goodnight, Caelan.”
When she was gone, he slumped back on the wall, his eyes closed in grief. “Forgive me Lord for lying and pardon me from the grave Peter, but she cannae ken the truth… nae yet.”
Chapter 9
She entered her rooms, tugged off the cloak and dropped it on her bed. A fire was merrily blazing in the hearth and she set the jar of ointment on the table. Speaking with Caelan had opened her eyes to more than she had expected.
My father had this man beaten and placed in the dungeon to suffer and Caelan still went on to see the speck of reason behind it? What sort of man is he? No one is this forgiving.
The night was closing in faster than she had expected, and her stomach was grumbling because of her missed meals. Craving something warm, she left to find a maid to send to the kitchens and came across Martha coming toward her down the corridor. Her personal maid had her hands full with a basket of dry washing in her hands but then saw her.
“My Lady, you’re back.”
Adelaine frowned, why was Martha so anxious. She dropped her basket and went to a table and pulled out a drawer. Martha plucked out a letter sealed with a familiar seal— her father’s.
“This came for you,” Martha said. “Would you like me to get you some food? I’d imagine you must be hungry.”
Taking the letter, Adelaine sat and nodded while breaking the seal. “I am, and something warm, thank you.”
My Dearest Daughter,
Unfortunately, I am still with His Majesty as he is taking account of his campaign in Scotland by each of his Generals. I do not assume that I will be back home for a few weeks, nay, a month. It is a grievous attitude our Majesty has that has him believing his time is the most important and that we must all abide by it.
My Daughter, I know this will not be easy on you with Peter’s death and my absence, but take heart. It will not be for too long. Just keep your faith that justice will be served for your dear brother.
I will give my report soon and then I will ask the King for permission to execute this Scottish deviant who has killed the son of an English Lord by malicious intent. All murderers, in person or by proxy, will be held accountable for their crimes and will receive the fitting punishment. An eye for an eye, my dear. I know your tender sensibilities will not agree but that is the law of the land.
I rest assured that you are in capable hands.
Be well.
Her hands were trembling at the end. Execution? An eye for an eye? For something, Caelan had not done? Instantly, she felt sick. She reread the letter, hoping, in vain, that she had read wrong. She hadn’t. The words were there, stark black on stiff paper.
“My Lady?” Martha asked as she came closer, a tray of food in her hands. “What’s wrong?”
“My father is going to kill Caelan, Martha,” Adelaine said hollowly. “For something he did not do, he is going to be executed.”
