Chapter 23
B ethany could not stop herself from thinking about Dubnus’s words, even as she tried to settle into an evening spent with Matthew and the new wooden horse toy that had mysteriously appeared in her bag. Much as she wanted to forget about Dubnus and everything he had ever said, she could not deny that some of his points rang true. She needed to protect Matthew here, more than she ever had in the twenty-first century. She had to build him a good future, here in Dal Riada, or wherever they ended up. He could hardly grow up in a guest chamber, wasting time while his mother moped and worried. She would need to find him a tutor. Perhaps apprentice him to a tradesman. But these things would take money.
And, for that, she needed a job. Some things never changed.
Matthew’s hand in hers, she marched around the hill fort, asking in every place she could think of. The kitchen staff looked at her dubiously.
“Ladies don’t work in here,” one of the cooks said. “Ladies don’t work .”
Bethany tried to explain that she was not a lady, that it had all been a misunderstanding, but no one seemed to believe her.
“It’s not proper,” was all the head cook would say, and that was that.
She walked down to the seashore to see if there was room for another woman working on the fishing boats. The smell made her stomach turn, but she could learn to gut fish if she had to. For Matthew. But the women there turned her away with scornful laughs.
“If you’re that desperate to work like one of us, find yourself a fisherman to marry,” one said, and the rest cackled with laughter.
She tried the stables, remembering how empty it had been just a few nights ago.
“Don’t hire women,” the stable master said baldly. “And if you don’t mind me asking, miss, why aren’t your husband’s family caring for you? Doesn’t seem right for a woman to be alone. Even a widow.”
All in all, it seemed hopeless. How could she find a way to survive? There seemed to be no place here for a woman with no husband and no family. She might have to get married after all, much as the thought turned her stomach and sent panic racing through her.
She drifted past Comgall’s chambers on the way back to hers. She shouldn’t be here, but it was hard to stay away. He must have been inside; Ciaran stood to attention outside the door. Hopefully, Eithne wasn’t in there with him.
“You’re looking rather gloomy this afternoon,” Ciaran called out, flashing her a smile.
Bethany sighed as she walked over to him .
“I’ve been trying to find some kind of work,” she told him. “But there’s nothing for a woman like me. Do you think I should just get married?”
Ciaran’s eyes widened in horror.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” he said. “I don’t think the king would like that at all.”
Bethany shrugged.
“Why should he care?” she asked.
Just then, the door to Comgall’s sitting room swung open. Comgall himself walked out - arm in arm with Eithne. Bethany’s heart almost stopped. Comgall smiled at something Eithne said, and then he looked up. He glanced at Bethany and Ciaran. For a second, his eyes narrowed and he frowned a little. Then he turned back to Eithne. She said something else, too quietly for Bethany to hear, and this time Comgall laughed out loud. Eithne clung to his arm a little tighter, sinking against him as the two of them walked off. Bethany’s stomach felt strangely hollow. Shouldn’t she be pleased that things were working out for Comgall, despite all the trouble she’d caused? He looked happy with Eithne. And she really was beautiful.
“Duty calls,” Ciaran said. He smiled awkwardly, his expression slightly sympathetic. Then he set off after Comgall, his long steps helping him to catch up. The king never went anywhere without his bodyguard.
Bethany turned away. The last thing she wanted was for anyone to see her staring after Comgall. She was not part of his life any more.
“Come on, Matthew,” she said. But her son was not standing where she’d left him. For a second, she felt pure, white-hot panic. Then she saw him just a few feet away, standing beside a wizened old woman who’d bent down to smile at him .
As Bethany walked over, still trying to calm her racing pulse, the old woman straightened up and turned that smile on her. She looked strangely familiar, and the warmth that radiated from her soothed all of Bethany’s worries in an instant.
“Good afternoon,” the woman said, her voice smooth and mellow in a way that belied her age. “You might remember me. My name is Finola, and I am Dunadd’s wise woman.”
“Yes, of course,” Bethany said, smiling as the memory returned. “You defended me against Dubnus.”
Finola’s smile widened even further in response.
“That’s right. Well, I’m glad that I found you here today. I’ve heard all about your situation, and I’d like to make you an offer.”