I looked again at the open prayer book, the Latin words inked more than three centuries earlier by a woman I suddenly, inexplicably, felt I might have known — or had been loved by.
If she was my ancestor from my royal side of the family, truly, how did her book end up here, how had this been included in my chest?
It had been in a hidden place. A place I never noticed, was it new? Or had I just been that clueless?What had my mother known?
I whispered the name under my breath, “Lady Gail Campbell… Duchess of Awe.” If my real father had been a Duke of Awe, this could be a great-grandmother.
I pulled the prayer book close and began carefully turning the pages. They were crowded with Latin verses in a looping script written in ink faded to sepia. There were little notes in the margins. One said:
Amen
another:
Remember to tell him of Amelia
On another page a note that I didn’t understand:
Meet him in Mhuc-Àird
Oh every other page were small drawings of what looked like saints, and a border of decorative thistles outlined the Psalms.
A few pages in I found the year 1308 written in the corner, the ink was darker, maybe added later with a different pen. There was a wax stain where a candle must have dripped. I remembered the low light of the rooms in Scotland and thought how difficult it must have been to have read such small writing.
I closed it and looked at the edge, the pages were gilded, but had been well used, corners were down, a few little pieces of paper peeking out of the leaves. I pushed the book from me, I would need to really go through it, soon.
I wentand stuck my head out of the door, “Torin! Want something to drink, Diet Coke?”
“Och nae, anythin’ but the devil drink.”
“Want ice water?”
“Aye, did ye finish lookin’ up Lady Gail?”
“Yeah, and looking through the book, too, got thirsty.”
I returned to the kitchen and pulled down two glasses, I filled them both with ice, and one with water.
When I carried it out to him, I found him staring up at the sky.
I followed his eyes. “What do you see?”
“A clear sky, but a shadow just crossed over me, did ye feel it?”
He scanned the horizon, with his hand resting on the hilt of his dirk.
He looked tense like that day on the riverbank, when he saw men approach long before I could see them.
I glanced up at the guard, oblivious on the front porch, but at least he was there, armed.
Torin was on guard. I stood quietly, muttering a prayer in my head.
He said, “Back up tae the house.”
I backed up, carrying his glass, fumbling at the doorknob and pushing into the kitchen. Then I stood there petting Dude, watching the door, until Torin followed, slowly climbing the steps to the house, staring around the lawn and the trees, beyond
“What was it?”
“I daena ken, but I daena believe yer guards are the right sort of guards for a princess. They barely noticed the shadow crossin’ over yer lands.”
