“The MacEnty wheat suffered blight before ye became Laird,” she finally informed her breakfast helpfully. She waited a few more beats to be sure the flush had left her cheeks before looking up and continuing, “I’m going to the farrier after breakfast to see about retrieving me pony if he’s shod and ready. Ye said ye wanted to see the village, so if ye’re keen…”
“Aye.” Aiden rapped his fork against the table. “I’ll be ready to escort ye.”
Suddenly, there was a clatter at the door, and the two apprentices elbowed each other to get through the door first, the older and taller of the two winning by sheer virtue of reach. Both froze in place at the sight of the immense man and his plate of eggs.
Aiden greeted them as if he’d fully expected them and had planned on them eating as well, gesturing to the porridge. The milk and honey still sat on the table by the hearth, though he hadn’t prepared bowls for them the way he had her, so she suspected he was simply very good at hiding his surprise.
When the apprentices had filled their bowls, added their honey and milk, and raced back out of the main room with thanks called over their shoulders, Aiden put his fork down and eyed Hannah with a far more serious expression.
“I’ll be keen to see what it is I’ve missed, and how I can set it to rights.”
Hannah nodded in response, forcing herself to smile at him encouragingly. She couldn’t say she was as optimistic as he seemed to be that things would be so easy to make right.
The village had a lot of angry, tired, sick people who had been simmering with resentment for the last year, if not longer. They weren’t likely to be talked out of their anger. At the same time, she hoped he would see enough to understand why they were upset and to do something to help them. His very presence was heartening to her. She hoped it would be the same for the others in her village.
“We’ll start with a walk, then.”
10
Aiden strode alongside her down the pathway to her village, his sword making soft clanking sounds as he glanced around. Habitually keeping his head on a swivel, taking in the familiar green and rocks of his land.
He told himself it was a habit, though he had to admit to himself that he was spending a bit too much time glancing at the brunette at his side. He couldn’t quite come up with an excuse for that, and when she glanced his way, he pretended to be looking past her into some nearby shrubs.
The walk wasn’t terribly long, and soon they came upon cottages. He frowned as he looked around. The main road should have been bustling with people shouting to one another and going about their daily chores. He noticed the fields were empty. The few people they had seen so far looked pale and drawn.
“Where is everyone, lass?” He glanced again at Hannah, suspecting something, but still making sure he hadn’t forgotten it was a Sunday.
“If ye go to the kirkyard and count the freshly buried, ye’ll ken.” Her voice was slightly flat, as if he had indeed asked her a silly question.
He tried to save face. “Yer sister seems to be improving.”
Hannah glanced up at him and gave him the smile he’d been hoping for. “I’ve been giving her the draught I made of the plant ye allowed me to harvest every day, sometimes several times a day,” she explained. “That may be why she’s nae already among the dead.” She winced, as if saying the word or bringing up the very notion caused her undue pain.
Aiden closed his eyes momentarily and nodded his head, before glancing around again as they passed the village well. It should have been full of life, but there were merely a few pale people struggling to fill buckets of water, and one tired-looking child sitting nearby tapping a stick on the ground.
He hadn’t fully understood how bad things were. This village was far, far worse off than the previous one he’d been in. That village had shown more signs of life. At least children were still playing and women were still singing.
They came to the farrier and entered his stable. The heat of the bellows was immediately noticeable and stifling. He could hearthe ringing of a hammer slamming into metal and the pumping of the bellows.
“Hannah!” A man wearing a leather apron looked up from his work and smiled at her, blue eyes crinkling with age. “There ye are.” Then he caught sight of Aiden at her side, and his smile dropped instantly. “Oh.”
Hannah’s steps faltered at his reaction. “I’ve come to collect Fin.” Her voice was hesitant. She glanced over her shoulder, as if she’d forgotten Aiden was right behind her.
The farrier jerked his chin toward the pony. “We’ll settle up later.” His voice had gone cold. Still polite, but noticeably uncomfortable. He stood stiffly, hammer still in hand, eyes fixed on Aiden.
Aiden could feel the distrust radiating from the man and kept his hands visible in an attempt to look nonthreatening.
Hannah glanced between the two and then approached her pony, who whickered softly at her. Untying his lead, she looked between the two again.
“I’ll be back later with yer whiskey, Liam, aye?” She tried to smile at him again.
The farrier nodded silently, not returning her smile.
Aiden knew his presence was unwanted, but he simply hadn’t thought his lack of welcome would extend to his companion. Unfortunately for the other man, he could not allow that. And he would not let it go.
“Well, I would have expected a wee bit more respect and interest in the appearance of yer Laird, man,” he remarked, light and easy.
Liam reddened, dropping his gaze.
