‘You and Birdie surely must know of someone.’
Birdie tugged at her nurse’s skirt and then whispered in her ear. The nurse nodded.
‘Yes, that can be done. Birdie knows a woman, the sister of a friend of mine. She would be a good choice, I think.’
Svanna clapped her hands. ‘I’ll mention the new arrangement to Rand when he wakes.’
‘My papa is asleep?’
‘Very tired after his journey.’
The little girl nodded. At her nurse’s gesture, she ran off to play with her doll.
‘Can you explain to me, my lady, why you wish to learn our language? Many from the North don’t,’ the nurse asked when Birdie seemed absorbed in her game.
‘Avoiding the language and taking refuge in a companion from home is a mistake I hope to avoid, as I shall be living here for the rest of my life.’ Svanna carefully shrugged. ‘Both my mother and foster-mother were peace-weavers. My late nurse drummed into me its true importance.’
She paused, gasping for air but pleased that she’d managed to say such a long speech in Gaelic.
The woman curtseyed. ‘My late lady was determined to avoid your fate. Her father dangled her in front of many noses. In the end she engineered her marriage.’
Svanna kept her face completely blank. The elderly woman had obviously been Bridget’s nurse as well as Birdie’s.
‘How fortuitous she found Rand,’ she said instead of questioning her more closely. ‘I understand the marriage brought a great deal of happiness.’
‘I don’t hold with carrying tales, my lady.’
‘Rand speaks of her with a great deal of love and told me of his grief.’ She forced a smile. She hated how her heart gave a pang. She might not be his great passion, but he was rapidly becoming hers. ‘I know he already experienced the great passion of his life and does not seek another. Strategic marriage only.’
The woman nodded sagely. ‘My lady’s death altered Lord Randolfr. He used to sit and rock that child’s cradle with tears streaming down his face. Say what you like about him being away all the time, but it is far from his choice. Our king makes demands even if he worries about him.’
‘Birdie is Rand’s sole heir. It’s right that she remains where her father wishes.’ Svanna fought to contain her growing excitement. The roundabout questioning had yielded much-needed background information, including that the nurse’s loyalty lay with Bridget’s family rather than with Rand.
‘A wise woman, my lady.’ The nurse curtseyed again. ‘Where did you say you come from?’
‘From Agthir. Perhaps you have heard of it. They say that some men from there now lead the Dubhghaill, the Northmen who threaten Gaels.’ She willed the nurse to divulge more.
The woman glanced over to where Birdie sat crooning to her doll.
‘I don’t know much about politics, me,’ she finally muttered.
‘I believe their father was responsible for Lord Randolfr’s facial scarring many years ago. He wrongly thought Lord Randolfr had dishonoured the Queen’s daughter.’
The woman’s mouth dropped open. ‘Rhiannon never said anything. I wonder if she knows.’
‘Rhiannon, as in Birdie’s aunt? Did she speak of them?’ Svanna tried to control a sudden rush of excitement.
The woman wrinkled her nose. ‘She may have spoken once or twice about them, particularly one called Turgeis, whom she considered quite handsome, but nothing after she encountered Lord Thorarinn.’
Svanna stared at the woman. Was this an explanation? She had thought Turgeis was saluting her, but what if he’d been taunting Rand? What if he’d expected to see Rhiannon there? Was he saying instead that he knew where Rand must have hidden Rhiannon? She attempted to think logically and dispassionately instead of assuming that it was all about her.
‘Did her silence come after she fell in love with Thorarinn?’
The nurse backed away. ‘I’ve no wish to get anyone in trouble.’
‘Will my papa go away again?’ Birdie asked, running back with the doll in her arms. ‘I’m sad when he goes.’
‘I think he is sad as well. Maybe we can find a way to keep you with him.’
