Chapter Twenty-Three
For nearly a sennight, Eva rested, ruminated about what happened at the torch with Danella, and prayed that Breckin didn’t hold extreme wrath against his enemies. Or they, him.
Surely, after all their losses, it was best not to add to others’ despair or even their own. The thought of others being killed because of a woman’s selfish acts clutched at her heart.
Now, somewhat healed and definitely stronger, Eva retrieved a tartan to wrap around herself.
She wanted to get outside for a short spell.
She’d decided that she’d been cooped up long enough.
Now that she was on the mend, she needed to get back to her routine—which somewhat baffled her.
In truth, she had no responsibilities to keep her to task.
The longhouse had been tidied by Clara after the lads spent most mornings in the kitchen area learning how to make meals.
She smiled to herself at their folly but was impressed that they cared enough to learn to cook.
Outside, she walked aimlessly toward the bridge but then stopped at the stable to see Alton.
Inside the stable, the darkened lane led her to her horse’s stall.
Eva had yet to name the mare, but she was a beautiful honey-colored shire mare with white specks on her coat.
“What shall we call you, hmm?” She petted the soft hair on the horse’s nose.
“Milady, good day. She’s a fine mare, there… Ye having trouble naming her?”
“I was thinking of naming her Starlight because of her speckles. I shall think about it some more. Where are the horses kept for Connor and Caden?”
Alton waved his hand toward the exit of the stable. “They be occupied in the pen outside.”
She smiled and looked to see the lads in the paddocks beyond.
Caden was cantering his horse barebacked, while Connor was sitting backward on his horse and watching his brother with enthusiasm while his horse munched, disinterested and unconcerned, on some hay.
“I’m hoping that soon they will teach me to ride, now that I am healed.
” She sighed. “I suppose Breckin has not returned?”
“Nay, I am sorry, Milady. None of the soldiers have returned as yet.”
“I shall go then and visit Willa. Maybe she could use a hand.” Eva smiled at the man as she passed him and left the stable.
By the time she reached Willa’s cottage, Eva’s stride had quickened. Being outside agreed with her and made her feel strong. Before long, she would be back to her usual walks. Now she approached the healer’s door and knocked, then waited for the woman to answer.
Willa opened the door and smiled. “Good day, Milady. Come inside. I just heated a good batch of mead and welcome the company. We shall partake of it together. I should check your wound too and ensure ye are healing properly.”
She stepped through the threshold and breathed deeply. “It smells so good in here.”
“’Tis the sweetened honey, aye, for it is ripe and ready.
This is my best batch of mead in a good long time.
Sit.” While Eva did so, Willa set cups on the table and took a cloth to take hold of the warm pitcher.
She poured them each a helping and rounded the table.
With gentleness, she shifted the material of her overdress and inspected Eva’s shoulder.
“How is it? Does it look ghastly?” Eva drew in a resigned breath, hoping that the wound wasn’t gruesome.
“’Tis healing nicely, lass. Take care not to reinjure yourself or open the wound, though. What are ye about this day? Have ye naught more important to do than to visit this old lady?”
“You certainly are not old, Willa. I thought to give you company and I… Well, I wanted to thank you for your aid. You have been so kind to me since I arrived at the Buchanan holding, even on that first day when I ailed. Then you cared for me again when that woman struck me. I want you to know how grateful I am.” She paused and drew a breath.
For courage. “There was something that I wanted to ask…”
Willa took a sip of mead and set her cup before her. “Ye seem to hesitate, lass. Whatever it is ye wish, I shall be delighted to help if I can.”
“I have not talked to Breckin yet but want to discuss having children. There is a matter that concerns me, though. My mother died whilst birthing me. I never knew her. None ever spoke how or why she’d died but only that she had perished after she bore me.
I am frightened because…” Eva lowered her head, unable to speak her fears.
“Ah, I understand. Ye are afeared to get with child because ye think ye will die?”
She nodded.
“We know not what God has planned for us, och I will tell ye that I have aided many women in birthing their bairns. My son’s wife had a difficult birth but we were able to save her lad, Hamish.
As you know yourself, my grandson thrives now.
” Willa smiled and Eva knew she was thinking again of how Eva had sat in a tree with him and used Hamish’s slingshot to chase away that boar.
But then Willa sobered and said, “There have been easy births and difficult ones. My skill precedes me, it seems, because most of the clan’s women seek my aid.
So ye should not hold back because of your fears, lass.
We shall confront any difficulties when and if we must. Until then, dream and hold to your heart the joys of motherhood. ”
“I want to give Breckin children and I want to be happy about it,” Eva confessed.
“Then ye shall do so. Now cease your fretting, lass. All will be well and I shall be with ye. When ye find out ye are carrying, come and see me and we will form a plan.” Willa set her hand atop hers and patted it.
“My thanks, Willa, for your kindness and for aiding me.”
The two women sat, chatting. How easy it was now, for Eva, to talk to Willa. Truly, the healer had become a friend. After she finished her cup of mead, Eva bid her farewell and left her cottage.
On the way toward the bridge, she smiled to herself and wondered what Breckin would think of her announcement that she was ready to enlarge their family.
The short distance to the bridge lay ahead. Before she reached it, a handful of riders tromped over it. Aymer stood in the center of the lane and held up his hand.
Words were spoken, but she couldn’t discern what it was until she got closer, and Aymer began to yell. “Och, Milady,” he called. “Ye have company.”
The horsemen parted and Eva was surprised to see Chamberlain Edmund riding through. When he reached her, he dismounted and smiled. “Milady Buchanan, ’tis good to see ye.”
“Edmund? What are you doing here? Oh, sweet Mary, there is no bad news about her grace?” Eva hoped Queen Margaret had no difficulty with the birth of her baby.
“Her grace has borne us a new princess, one who the entire court dotes on, and who promises to be as strong as her father and her mother. But nay, that is not why I am here, Milady. I…ah, perhaps we can go somewhere quieter, more private.”
Eva bowed to him. “Forgive me, Edmund. You must be tired and ravenous from your journey. Come, and I shall see to your needs.” She walked toward the longhouse and the man followed. She said nothing along the way, completely caught up in thoughts of why he was there and what news he brought.
When she reached the longhouse, she opened the door for him.
He stepped through the threshold and made his way toward the hearth.
Eva hurried to it and added a log. There was a small flame there, and hopefully, the additional log would ignite and send warmth to the man.
Surely, he needed warmth from his tiresome journey from Edinburgh.
She then went to the kitchen area and fetched a cup of ale for him. On her return, she handed him the cup. “Please, Edmund, be seated and tell me why you have come all this way.”
Edmund lifted the cup and took a sip of the drink before he set it on the table in front of him. Briefly, he considered the fire before turning his gaze on her. His eyes were saddened. “I am afraid my news is most dire, Milady. Is Laird Buchanan here?”
“No, he is off,” Eva ceased her words because she didn’t want to impart that her husband was off warring. “He should return soon if you wish to wait…”
“’Tis not he whom I have come to see. My news is troubling and I know not how to tell ye this, other than to just say it.” He took a deep breath. “Milady, your dear father has departed.”
Eva’s breath hitched as she listened to him. Departed? “Edmund, are you saying that my father has…died?”
“Aye, Milady. I received word from your brother Richard. He tells me that your father’s ailment was difficult and that he never recovered from it upon returning from Edinburgh, after your marriage.
He died early in the summer. Richard heard that I was headed this way, for I intended to visit others in the area, and he wanted me to tell you because he did not want you to hear the news from others.
I am sorry, Milady, to be the bearer of such unfortunate news. ”
Eva suppressed the urge to weep. She pressed her eyes so they would not tear. “I suspected his ailment was perilous. I deem he tried to tell me so and sent me a missive before he passed.”
“Aye. For he was a good man, your father, Milady. The king has received many missives from those with whom your father did business with across the channel, proclaiming their sympathies. Our nation shall long mourn for him.” He bowed his head. “I am sorry for your loss.”
“My thanks, Edmund, for making the journey and coming to tell me.” Eva pressed her hands against her chest, trying to abate the tremble that overtook her. But her sadness still crept through her and she had to will herself not to cry.
“It was no trouble.”
Eva leaned on her knees and wanted to flee to her bed chamber so she might weep in private, but the man made no move to leave. “Do you need a place to rest this night, Edmund? I can have a room ready for you if you would like to stay.”