Authors: Hannah Howell
Rose was tempted not to answer, but curiosity got a hard grip on her when she realized it was Anne Kerr who was looking for her. She suspected she had not immediately recognized the woman’s voice because she had never heard Anne speak much above a whisper. Anne actually had a pleasant, clear voice when she chose to use it.
“O’er here, Anne,” she called. “I am sitting under an apple tree.”
Enjoying a moment of peace, she mused, then scolded herself for being selfish. Not too long ago she had bemoaned the lack of company or someone to talk to. It was foolish to complain now that she had some simply because it did not appear at her convenience. Anne rarely spoke to her, or to anyone, for that matter. The woman had never come to visit, although Rose suspected that was not an intentional avoidance. In truth, Rose could not recall ever seeing Anne unless her mother was there.
“Ah, there ye are.” Anne hurried over. “God’s mercy, ’tis rather warm.”
“Sit in the shade, Anne, and have a drink of cider.” When Anne sat down, Rose handed her the wineskin she had filled with cider. “Ye will feel cooler in a moment or two.”
After she had a drink of cider, Anne stared at the wineskin. “Oh, dear. I just had some of your food.”
“Dinnae fret. Ye willnae turn into a newt.” It was difficult to hide her astonishment when Anne giggled.
“I ne’er thought it would do that. Nay, I just feared it would change my humor enough so that my mother might notice the change.”
“Nay, that willnae happen.”
“ ’Tis so pleasant here. So cool and shaded. And ’tis surprising when the walls are so high, but there is also a pleasing breeze.”
Rose prayed Anne would not ask why that was, for she really had no explanation.
Anne clasped her hands in her lap and looked straight into Rose’s eyes. “I had meant to be here earlier so that I wasnae just asking ye for something and then hurrying away, but I had to wait for Meg to leave. I would like a love potion.”
“A what?” Rose sat up straighter.
“A love potion.”
“Ah. Anne, I am nay sure there is such a thing.” She briefly wished she could brew one right up when she saw the way Anne slumped with disappointment.
“I had heard that all the Keith women left behind writings and receipt books. I thought one of them might have known of such a thing.” Anne took another drink of cider and appeared to relax a little. “Are ye verra sure there are no such things?”
“Anne, I can make ye a potion to ease the pain of your woman’s time. I can e’en make ones to loosen tight bowels and tighten loose ones. I cannae make a potion to make someone fall in love with ye or ye with him. And ’twould be a false love, too, wouldnae it?”
“Oh, I hadnae considered that. But I am sure they sell love potions at some of the fairings.”
“False brews, naught but trickery and lies, and some could even be dangerous. At best they might give ye something to make ye or the mon feel amorous for a wee while. Love must come from the heart, Anne, or it willnae last.”
“Ye havenae asked who I want it for,” Anne said quietly.
“ ’Tis for Lame Jamie. I heard your mother scold ye about it two days ago.” She smiled faintly when Anne blushed. “Ye are three and twenty, Anne. Ye dinnae need your mother’s approval to wed.”
“I ken it. I need to ken if he wants me, however. I have loved the mon for years. Yet I am ne’er without my mother close at hand, and as soon as she kenned where my heart lay, she made her disapproval verra clear.”
“How did ye get free of her today?”
“She thinks I am with the priest.”
“Oh, dear.” Rose fought the urge to look around for an enraged Joan Kerr.
“I ken it: I am a selfish woman, for I may have caused ye a great deal of trouble. Yet I am desperate. As ye say, I am three and twenty. I have wanted Jamie for near as long as I can recall. Yet year after year passes and naught changes. I am stuck at Mother’s side and cannae e’en speak to the mon.” She shook her head. “I sometimes wake in the night all asweat with the fear that I shall live and die in the shadow of my mother. Or, mayhap worse, I shall see the mon I love wed another.”
“Anne, only ye can stop that fate. Ye are the one who must break free. Many can tell ye to do so, but only ye can actually do it.”
“I ken it. I sometimes weep o’er what a wretched coward I am. When my mother’s scold told ye my deep secret, I wanted to come here immediately to see if ye could help, but it still took me two days to work up the courage.” She frowned at the wineskin. “I was feeling almost sick with fear.”
Rose smiled faintly. “Cool cider can be verra calming.”
“Of course,” Anne murmured, but gave Rose a look that told her that she did not believe a word of that explanation. “I am certain that, if I could get some sign from Jamie that my love is returned, I could walk away from my mother. To do so ’ere I have that is what holds me where I am. After all, if I take the chance and he doesnae care for me, I shudder to think of the scorn and ridicule my mother will pile upon my shoulders when I must return to her.”
“Ah, aye. I think that would make me hesitant as weel. Start small.”
“What?”
“Start small. When ye are verra sure your mother isnae watching and ye see Jamie, give him a smile.”
Anne looked both horrified and intrigued. “That would be so brazen.”
“Nay, ’tis just a smile. ’Tis just enough to tell him ye find him pleasant to look upon. How he responds to that smile can tell ye a little about how he might feel about you. Dinnae take it to heart if he acts confused or e’en startled. Just try again. A smile doesnae cost ye anything and ’tis nay enough to make ye look some lovesick fool.” When she saw how Anne still hesitated, she said, “Ye must do something, Anne, or ye will fulfill those chilling dreams ye spoke of.”
Anne nodded. “Ye are right. I must take the first step, tiny though it is. And I think I must also try to take a small step away from my mother from time to time.”
“Slowly ease the choking hold of her apron strings?”
“Aye.” Anne sighed as she started to twist her hands together, and hastily took another drink of cider. “My mother is a verra strong woman and, I fear, nay verra kind. I have spent my whole life enduring that until I am nay sure I ken how to stop. But I will be four and twenty all too soon, and I suddenly realized I might ne’er be free. She talks of me wedding the laird, but that willnae happen. Aye, I might be coward enough to march to the altar despite loving another, but the laird has no interest in me, thank ye God.”
“At least that worry is off your shoulders.”
“True. I want bairns, Rose. I want a family. I want to love and be loved. I ken that I must find the courage to reach for it, but I am nay sure I have it.”
Rose reached out to pat Anne’s hand. “Just keep your eye on what ye want. Ask yourself from time to time if Jamie isnae worth it all. He is a good mon, a kind mon. If he can return your love, I think ye would be verra happy, e’en if your mother continued to disapprove. Try to let the love ye feel for him give ye the courage ye seek.”
“That might work.” Anne suddenly turned pale and leapt to her feet. “Oh, nay.”
The look of horror on Anne’s face told Rose who was walking her way. She sighed and looked in the direction Anne was. Mistress Kerr looked as angry as Rose had ever seen her.
“How dare ye lure my child into this garden of sin,” Mistress Kerr snapped as she grabbed Anne’s hand and yanked her daughter behind her.
Rose did not even bother to rise. “Anne sought a moment of respite from the heat.”
“She didnae need to come here for that.” She glared at her daughter. “And ye lied to me. Ye ne’er went to the priest.” She looked back at Rose. “Ye have already begun to poison her heart and mind, teaching her the sin of disobedience.” She looked at the wineskin and gasped. “And ye have been feeding her that witch’s brew!”
“Och, ’tis far too hot to deal with your nonsense today,” Rose said, her voice still calm but her temper beyond her control. “Ye have found your daughter; now go. Anne was welcome here. Ye are not.”
“Ye heard her,” snapped Meg as she appeared from behind the apple tree and sat down next to Rose.
“Ye heed me, Rose Keith,” hissed Joan. “I willnae forget or forgive this. Ye have tried to steal my child from me. That cannae be tolerated.”
“Mither,” Anne protested.
“Silence,” Joan snapped. “Ye and I will talk on this when we are safe at home.”
Rose watched the woman drag poor Anne away, sighed, and closed her eyes. She wished she could do something for Anne, but the strength to change her life had to come from within Anne. She had to break her mother’s tight grip herself or she would never be completely free. She opened her eyes a little and looked at Meg.
“Where did ye come from?”
“I saw that vicious crone march into your garden and slipped ’round her, staying in the shadows. She wasnae hard to elude, for her eyes were set on ye and Anne. What was Anne doing here?”
“Seeking answers.”
“Such as what sort of poison might silence that fool of a mother she is cursed with?”
Rose laughed softly, then grew serious. “Anne is a verra unhappy woman, Meg. She is a coward and she kens it weel, but her mother made her one, has shaped her into what she is from the day she came into this world. It willnae be easy for her to change. Yet she lied to her mother and came here. A small step, but a step away, nonetheless.”
“But what did she think ye could do?”
For a moment she studied Meg, then decided the girl could be trusted with a confidence. “I will tell ye, but only if ye swear ye will say nothing to anyone.”
“I swear.”
“Anne is in love.” She frowned when that news appeared to worry Meg.
“With who?”
“She loves your father, Meg.”
Meg breathed a hearty sigh of relief and helped herself to a drink of cider. “I was worried for a moment.”
“Ye dinnae mind?”
“Och, nay. I have begun to think my father might have a soft place in his heart for Anne. He always mentions seeing her, e’en talks of how bonnie she looked. I doubt they have passed two words between them because of the tight guard Mistress Kerr keeps on Anne, and my father is a shy mon.”
“Then there is hope.”
“How can there be if she willnae leave her mother and my father is too shy to brave approaching Anne?”
“If Anne does as I say, she will soon be giving your father a wee hint that she favors him. I told her to slip him a smile whene’er she can do so without her mother seeing. Anne needs some hope to give her strength. If your father smiles back, weel, mayhap she can find some.”
Meg nodded. “I will try to stay close to him when he returns.”
“I dinnae think ye should interfere too much.”
“Och, nay. I willnae. I will, however, make sure he is looking the right way when Anne gets a chance to smile, and mayhap pinch him into responding. I ken he likes her and, weel, he is lonely. He is but thirty and I think he needs a wife.”
Rose was surprised at Meg’s wisdom. “I am sure he values your company.”
“Oh, aye, but ’tis nay the same, is it? And he would sore like to have more children, but he needs a wife for that. I ken there are one or two other things he would like a wife for, too, though one doesnae always like to think of one’s father doing such things. Has to, to beget children, though, and I wouldnae mind a few brothers and sisters.”
“Ye are a good-hearted lass, Meg.”
“I just want him to be happy, and he always seems so when he speaks of Anne. I think I might take a few of your apples, if ye dinnae mind. Mayhap I can slip one to Anne now and then. They might help her. If she feels softened, she might ease the grip of some of that fear that keeps her tied to her mother.”
“Just dinnae get caught.” Rose closed her eyes. “I believe I need a wee rest. Solving troubles and battling crones can make a body verra weary.”
Meg giggled. “I will go and see if any of the garden are sprouting a weed.”
Rose murmured her thanks and listened to Meg move away. She hoped Anne and Jamie could find their way to each other. They would be good for each other. Rose suspected her mother would have approved the match. Mistress Kerr was a formidable obstacle, however.
And pure trouble, she mused. The warnings were gaining in number and force. If Anne and Jamie wed, Rose knew Mistress Kerr would blame her. It was something she had best be prepared for. If Meg had decided her father and Anne should be wed, Rose suspected it would happen. Meg was almost dangerously clever at times.
There was really nothing she could do to stop the trouble coming her way, she realized. There was no reasoning with a woman like Joan Kerr. The woman looked at things with a twisted heart. It seemed beyond comprehending that she could not see where her child’s happiness lay, or, if she did, simply did not care.
Thinking on the things Anne had said, Rose realized that Anne felt her mother had no real love for her. Anne had said that she wanted to love and
be loved.
That rather strongly implied that she had never felt loved. Mistress Kerr was in danger of losing her only child and did not seem to see it.
And I will be blamed for that as well, she thought with a sigh. She put her hand on the trunk of the apple tree she sat under, the one that had been planted when her mother had been born. It was at times like these that she sorely missed her mother. Flora Keith had understood these things far better than she could.
A part of her wished Anne had never come to see her, pulling her into the midst of her troubles, but she told herself not to be selfish. It would make at least three people happy if Anne and Jamie were wed. That was a gain worth any trouble Mistress Kerr wished to hurl at her.
Chapter 6
“Weel met, Iain, ye handsome fool.”
Iain stared at the woman who greeted him with a smile. “Mary? Mary Keith?”
“Aye.” Mary winked. “Come, I havenae changed so verra much, have I?”
“Och, nay.” He stepped closer to the fence that enclosed this part of his fields and wiped his face on the sleeve of his shirt. “What are ye doing here?”
“Weel, I felt the need to come. Is someone courting my niece?”