After my mother passed away, everything seemed incoherent as shock set into my bones. My rock against the village, now gone. The man I despised would inherit my home, since Widow's Rights do not pass down to female children, unless it were registered with the courts, which it was not in my case. Marriage was my option.
When Rowan came by that afternoon, he found me sitting cross-legged on the floor by the hearth, staring into the embers. Grandmother excused herself to go milk the cow. As soon as she left, I took the opportunity to quiz Rowan on why he'd buy me with a bride price. It was custom for brides to bring dowries, not be bought like a sheep.
He sat a few feet from me and answered, "Where I come from, a bride price is offered for a maid's hand in marriage to compensate her parents for the loss of her help in the household. In your case, I felt especially obligated due to your status as a healer. This hamlet will lose a great asset, but from what I have observed, I doubt they will realize it until it is much too late. Also I offered it to your grandmother in hope that she leaves Buckfast while she can. There are whispers of witchcraft in the air. Even the Brothers from the Abbey are blowing this wind along."
I sputtered like an angry kettle. I looked at him, he looked at me and smiled. Those green-apple eyes of his sucked me in with unerring intensity that I reacted by nearly falling backward. His hand steadied my back. With a sigh, I moved away from the hand which made my back tingle. "What is being said?" I said, jaw clenched in anger.
"That people are dying because of the young healers' brews. A curse from a cursed child who should have been drowned at birth, according to the fat woman at the well. She's full of enough gossip for three towns, at least."
A shiver shot up my back. "Why ever would I harm people?" Bewilderment slammed into my mind. Ever since I was young enough to toddle about, my mother explained herb, trees, flowers, and the role we played in bringing together the healing property inherent in plants to those who need it the most. Added to that was Grandmother's knowledge of how to care for a pregnant woman, deliver babies, tend both mother and child so that they might survive and thrive. Caring for people is what defined me other than being known as the get of the old smithy and his woman, the healer.
"People of little vision do not need a reason to make one's life difficult. There are but eleven good Brothers left alive at the Abbey. They've grown superstitious. They do not see anyone being healed."
His words echoed between my ears. Without the protection of the church, I would be fair game. My hands worried my skirt, while my mind whirled around, trying to make sense of what he was telling me. It wasn't unheard of for a person of dubious standing within a village to be burned as a witch or heretic, and if anything, dubious was my position now that Mother died. One would think that with her gone, I could replace the vacuum she left. But village politics are never that simple. Perhaps if I were born on the 28th of February or March 1st, this situation would never arise and my natal day not be something viewed as a curse. Since I age physically more than I have birthdays, it is viewed as unnatural, thus cursed. Perhaps when Rowan discovered my birthday, he too would consider me cursed. Perhaps when I knew him much better, I would reveal my birthday. Until then, if asked I would simply tell him I was born under the sign of the Fish.
"I see. So you would offer Grandmother and I new lives? In exchange for what? I want to know plainly what it is you want of me."
Again, my brash approach seemed to puzzle him, as if I should be accepting of his will automatically.
He tried looking at my face-- I could see him out the corner of my eye, but I averted my gaze and focused on the fire. He took a long moment to gather his thoughts before speaking.
"What I want of you? First and foremost, a companion. I do not think children are in my future, so if you wish for a family, it wouldn't be a natural one." The healer in me wanted to know why, but it could wait. Did I want children? Perhaps it was my freshly wounded mind that throbbed a violent reminder of miserable deaths that made me say that I didn't want children, not at that point in my life. I didn't want them to ever go through the heartbreak of loss. Now, I laugh at my naive view and how I cheated myself from having a child's love of my own. It was a bitter lesson, but I jump ahead of myself.
His next question startled me. "Do you have someone you walk about with?"
I momentarily forgotten he wasn't from Buckfast, and that which common knowledge was uncommon to him. "Nay. I've caught no one's fancy and none caught mine." Courage was something I lacked in that moment. I couldn't very well explain why I was avoided like a fresh pile of dog excrement by most.
"Are you content to make this match?" I could feel his gaze on my face.
"To tell the truth, it's either you or Crispin, and I suspect I'd end up giving him a steady diet of syrup of lettuce to dull his wits and make him bearable to live with. I don't know you, but you can't be any worse than he. If it comes down to it and the church has me marked as a heretic or witch, then I cannot count on Crispin for any aid. So, yes. I am content with this match for now."
Although I dared not to look at his eyes, I watched his mouth quirk. "For now? I endeavor to keep it so."
A ghost of a smile graced my lips for a short moment. "I have a boon to beg of you." At his nod, I continued. "If we are to wed, I wish to be betrothed before we leave. That way, if we dislike each other on longer acquaintance, we can both annul the betrothal and be merrily on our separate ways."
"Do you fear me, then, that you seek a long betrothal before wedding?" His voice was silky-soft.
"Nay. I fear no man. But I do fear man's illogical reactions." His head cocked to the side at my statement. "Allow me to know you better and I shall elaborate on that thought for you."
"Very well. Anything else we should discuss before the fire needs more wood?"
"Why me?" I wished to know just what about me spurred him to such a decision, if all that was wanted from me was my healing skills.
"Why you?" It seemed the thought of me asking that never occurred to him. "You are intelligent enough to have learned the healing arts. Possessed by you is a sense of familial loyalty, something I have not had in my life for longer than I care to remember. When I first saw you three years ago, I thought you pretty. Since then, I had only seen you from afar, growing even more lovely. You never came to bargain again, and I wondered why, if I had offended you somehow. I feel you can provide me with a great many years of enjoyment. I would happily spend as many years as I have left getting to know you."
How he gleaned that from such short acquaintance bespoke his attention to detail. My voice sounded sharper than I intended. "And what is it you bring to the table, sir?" His words of wanting to know me made my heart beat as fast as if I had just run from the river to the Abbey at breakneck speed.
His laugh bounced off the walls of the stone barn. "What is it I bring? I bring opportunity, a new hope and adventure. I bring the things you've prayed for since you were a wee child. You will have freedom, get to see things I doubt you could imagine. I offer you the hope of love and a lifetime of discovery of each other. You have my word that I will treat you well, with respect and honor."
Love? I wasn't sure I wanted to feel that deeply for someone. Deep love brings deep pain; I witnessed that firsthand with my parents. He continued on, "And I offer you a gift of unparalleled magnitude, in exchange for your hand."
"Something worth more than love?" The words tumbled past my lips before I realized it.
He eased a smile upon his face, and I noted how strong his jawline was, shadowed by stubble. "So you know the worth of love. But aye, this is far more precious than love, or the hope of love, as is our case."
Romance wasn't something I expected from him, from anyone really. I imagined something more along the lines of a business arrangement, but from how he spoke, I knew that would be unacceptable. He wanted a wife, not a partner. My curiosity was piqued. How could it not be? With the exception of my grandmother, my world had disappeared and with it, my security. I felt disconnected, with how practical matters seemed so easily remedied, especially when Rowan was involved.
Thoughts in my head toppled like leaves in the wind. A sorrow deeper than the sea ate at my soul, knowing my last moments spent with my mother were no real moments at all. I kept the tears inside. I would shed them in private, for my sorrow was mine alone.
I thought of the coincidence of him sweeping into my life at such a crucial moment, mere seconds after I prayed to God. If He sent Rowan into my life, and Rowan wished to wed me, then it must be God's will. I could content myself with that. It bothered me that his generosity had an ulterior motive, but again, it was out of my hands and in the grasp of destiny.
With that thought washing over me, I could then trust that if he was meant to be my husband, that my wish for a betrothal was moot. I could trust in this man. Mind you, now it scares me to think how naive I was, a silly idealistic creature, but what did I know? I was grasping at straws and not knowing it, as I came to find out later. As he mentioned, he did represent salvation and rebirth from the hurt and threat looming. I would have a purpose, healing more than just a village.
Rowan cleared his throat, abruptly bringing me out of my thoughts. "Shall I fetch more kindling?"
I let out a small bemused laugh and looked at him. "Today is a cursed one for me."
His eyes crinkled as he smiled at me. "Oh, today is your day. It's one of those days where the stars are aligned to wreak chaos and bring order. Never fear moments like this, they are the very fabric of life." Rowan said matter-of-factly.
His philosophy appealed to me. It made it all seem so distant, so neat and orderly where nebulous things as feelings didn't exist.
"When do you wish to wed?" The words escaped my lips before it registered with my mind.
"You never do cease to amaze. What of the boon betrothal you just asked for?" His intense gaze belied his interest in my reply.
I took a moment to form my thoughts, as I wanted to leave no room for misinterpretation. "I'm placing myself in the Hands of God. What else should I do? Mere moments before you first spoke to me at the well, I was praying for a miracle, and here you come, offering an escape from a life I'm not fond of and from people who would do me harm. I am no fool. My future doesn't lie in Buckfast."
He nodded at my reasoning. "Ah, I see you'll be the practical one," he said with a teasing note to his voice.
I stood up, and brushed off my skirts. I sighed. "Practicality has served me well."
"Do you always see the silver lining, Lisbet?" His voice was soft to my ear.
"I try, else I weep every day for things that are beyond my control." I gave him a look that must have said a thousand things about my state of mind. "I have found that fighting things I cannot change tends not to work well for me."
"A deep wisdom for one so young. You asked when we wed? After your mother's burial, although propriety demands a year's mourning. I fear we'll shock Buckfast and need to leave quickly afterward. In a year's time, something more scandalous will have turned their thoughts to someone else and all will be well."
His words were meant to salve my mind, but failed. The world was changing in a manner I never knew possible. Just this morning I became an orphan and now I was discussing marriage and leaving all I knew... then I knew how water rushing downriver to the ocean felt. "You are a merry kind of mad, aren't you now?" I meant it for my ears only, a rebuke for letting life influence me like a leaf upon the wind. In honesty I must admit, I'm one to be easily bruised by life. For me, letting go and moving on proved the most beneficial for coping with mishaps and ill fortune, whenever it fell upon me.
However, he heard me, and thought I was addressing him and so replied, "Oh, very, madam. A very merry kind of mad, I am indeed." I chuckled, and it felt good. Inappropriate, but good.
"I think we both merrily mad, else why would you want to wed me and me run away from here at the first opportunity?" Sobered now, I meant it as a rhetorical question.
"You've planned to escape Buckfast for a long time, but just did not know how you would leave. But a healer you would be, and midwife too." His eyes burned bright into mine, and the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. A prickle worked its way down my spine and for the first time, I felt truly wary in Rowan's presence.
The awe at his knowledge could not hide itself in my voice. "How do you know that about me?" Anger couldn't hide itself either. I did not like that he knew one of my secrets. I felt invaded. If I wanted him to know that secret, I would have told him. Nevertheless, he gleaned my secret hope and held it before my eyes.
"It is a gift." His answer told me nothing. Some could view witchcraft as a gift, and his words set me on edge.
"What is this gift? What does it do?" With a calmness I thought not possible, I asked for clarification.
"It's the gift I would give you once you became my wife." His soothing voice irked me more than being denied a true answer.
"Your answers frustrate me to no end. I gather it is a gift, a precious one-- one more precious than love. It has the ability to know something I have never revealed to another soul and if you don't mind, I've had a bit of an upsetting morning and not getting a straight answer is not adding to the improvement of the day. Will you give me a straight answer when we wed?" My hands were clenched in fists of frustration on my hips, and my leather-clad toe tapped in anger.
He could see how upset I was. "Yes, you will know what it is when it's time. My apology, I did not mean to anger you."
My temper simmered down. "You do not anger me so much as the situation I find myself in does, and one thing I dislike most is not getting a straight answer when requested. But if you say that you'll tell me what it is shortly, then I shall trust in your word. I must tell Grandmother that we have settled much between us, and take care of other duties. Will you return on the morrow?"
"Aye. But before I leave, we have two more orders of business between us."
Puzzlement wormed its way into my mind. "What business have we?"
"I will not wed a lass who has never said my name. Just does not seem right to me." His arms were crossed, his hands resting on finely woven linen.
"You drive a hard bargain, Rowan." I said it as drolly as possible, and he smiled.
"Excellent, now for the second bit. In good faith, I cannot wed a lass whom I never kissed."
My mouth formed an O of surprise. "I...I never, have ever... a kiss?" Stammering from shock, I searched for coherency.
He closed the distance between us, and I felt both elated and intensely curious as to what his kiss – any kiss – would be like. Rowan smiled that perfect smile and I saw his lips move, forming the words "I know." but I didn't hear him speak them aloud. Closer still, he came. One of his hands, cradled my face while the other lifted my chin so I would be forced to gaze into his magnetic eyes. Those amazingly green eyes held me entranced and as I watched his eyes slowly close, I followed suit. Rowan's lips touched mine tentatively, and then with more pressure. The result of that oral exploration left me staring off into space with a dreamy look upon my face long after he left for his camp.