Part 51 (1/2)
NIGHT FELL AND STILL Fayth stood on the roof of the tower, watching and waiting. Like the lady of the keep, watching for my lord's return. Or the fair maiden, waiting for her moon prince... Why should she think such fanciful thoughts? She sighed, the cool breeze blowing at her back, snapping her skirts around her. She hadn't yet attempted to escape. She wanted to give Alex time to return. No reason to be rash... give him a few days, at least.
”Are ye no ready to go down now?” Skelley asked. He stood beside her, sheltered from the bracing wind behind a merlon, cloak wrapped tightly around him and cap pulled low over his ears.
Fayth sighed again. It was becoming a habit with her, as if she could somehow expel the emptiness inside her heart. She was not ready to leave, but felt sorry for the poor man, having to follow her about all day on her wanderings.
”I don't know what's wrong with me. When I'm not up here, watching, it's the only place I want to be. And when I am here, I become so frustrated because there's naught to see.”
”Ah, la.s.s. It's yer lad ye long for.” Skelley's voice was wistful, dreamy almost.
”He's not my lad.”
”So ye both say...”
She slanted Skelley a sharp look. ”What do you mean?”
Skelley shrugged, his gaze respectfully turned downward. ”I know what I know.”
”And what do you know?”
”That he fretted o'er ye when yer wound festered, though he was just as feverish. And that he spent many a night, diligently keeping you from harm-”
”He mistakenly thinks I am worth a great deal. That was the reason for his care and diligence.”
”Och, la.s.sie, there's no mistakin' yer worth.” He glanced up at her, eyebrows raised.
Fayth felt herself blush. ”That's very kind, Skelley. I have enjoyed your company as well.” She paused, gazing through the crenel at the setting sun. Mists rose in the distance and would soon billow out to meet the fog rolling in from the sea, blanketing the Rhins in a ghostly shroud. ”I find myself at ease here, among Alex and you and the others. It's not like Graham Keep.”
”If ye've never had a home, it's hard to ken what it feels like.”
The dull ache began in her chest, only to curl and settle in the pit of her stomach. Home. Would she ever find one? She could not stay here. The longer she stayed, the harder it would be to leave. And if Alex returned and took her to his bed again... she might never break away, at least of her own will. He would eventually send her away and she would grieve for him. Perhaps even hate him.
The thought brought a smile to her face. Wasn't that how it began? With hate? How she'd loathed the Maxwells and Red Alex in particular. And now everything had changed. The anger, the hurt, the hate, were gone. Perhaps it was only buried by infatuation, or misplaced loyalty. But when she searched her heart, she could find no trace of the old emotions, even toward Ridley. She pitied him, knowing now how his unrequited love for Mona cankered his heart.
Fayth turned slightly, facing the older man. ”Have you ever... loved another. A woman, that is?”
”Och, aye,” Skelley said, straightening, suddenly impervious to the cold. ”My Jennet. She's been gone some ten years now. She died in childbirth and took our daughter wi' her. They're buried together.”
”I'm sorry.”
”Dinna be sorry, I'm not. Well, that she died, of course I am, but I was blessed to have her at all.” He paused, gazing out at the misty sea. ”And the babe... she was so verra bonny, not quite of this world. Methinks the Lord wanted her.”
Fayth regarded Skelley curiously. ”You're a Musgrave?”
”Aye.”
”And yet you sound very much like a Scot. Oh, I know, on the border, sometimes it's hard to tell, we all sound the same. But even so, you seem more Scots than English.”
”I was raised in Scotland. My mother was a Maxwell, so when my father got in a spot of trouble with the English warden, the Maxwells took us in. I've been in Scotland, most of me life-'cept when we're making forays into England, that is.” He looked down at his hands. ”My Jennet was a Maxwell.”
Fayth turned back to watch the now obscured horizon. She should go in. Even if Alex climbed the steep track to the tower she would not be able to see him. She sighed, deep and heartfelt, then turned from the crenel.