Fair Is the Rose

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Authors: Liz Curtis Higgs
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the ruts deepened, the carriage jostled about, bouncing Leana hard against the side. She cried out, awakening Ian, whose wail brought Jamie galloping to her side.
    “Whatever has happened?” The carriage halted, and Jamie peered at the babe’s pinched features, now the color of fresh-scrubbed beets, his toothless gums bared as though he were in agony. “Is he harmed?”
    “Only hungry,” Leana murmured, brushing her cheek against Ian’s velvety head to soothe him. “The moment we reach Auchengray I’ll see he’s fed.” She glanced down at her tight-fitting bodice, laced up the back as befitted the gentry, and wished it were a peasant woman’s dress with fastenings in front she could untie herself. She’d stitch such a gown before the week was out, to be worn in the privacy of her own home.
    Willie had given the mare a signal to continue when a figure glided out from the tall pines that edged the road. An older woman in ill-fitting, colorful garb. Not a Gypsy, for the face below her tattered bonnet was pale, the eyes a piercing blue. Leana thought she looked familiar, the sort of woman one noticed on market day lurking between the stalls, age-bent fingers hovering over the bushels of ripe fruit. Noticed, then soon forgot.
    The stranger shuffled toward the chaise, her sharp gaze pointed at Ian. “I heard the greet of a newborn babe, did I not?”
    Leana’s pulse quickened at the voice. Not a stranger after all, but Lillias Brown, a wise woman—a wutch , some said—still keen on the auld ways. She lived in a stone cottage planted among the wild moorlands north of Auchengray and seldom ventured onto a public road.
    Willie gripped harder on the reins. “Widow Brown, is it?”
    The old woman shrugged, not taking her eyes off Ian. “ Fowk call me Lillias.” Since she refused to attend the parish kirk, Lillias was not permitted to receive communion. Most folk gave her a wide berth if they passed her on the road. Leana shrank from the edge of the carriage seat, pulling Ian tight against her.
    Undaunted, the crone drew closer and smiled, revealing a crooked row of teeth. “Will ye not gie me a look at him?”
    Despite her qualms, Leana could not refuse, not on the day of the child’s kirkin. Lillias Brown was counted among their neighbors, however odd her ways. Leana unwrapped the blanket round Ian’s face, holding him a bit higher so the woman might see him.
    Lillias stared, her smile soon fading into a fierce scowl. She shook her head, backing away, and muttered something in Gaelic.
    Leana thought she might be asking for the customary bit of cake and cheese. “W-we have no food to offer you, I’m afraid.”
    “Och! I wouldna tak it if ye did.” The woman spun toward the woods and disappeared among the branches thick with pine cones, her departure punctuated by an ominous roll of thunder and a nervous whinny from Bess.
    Rose, who’d stood speechless through it all, now hurried back to the chaise, her mouth agape. “Why did you let her look upon Ian? That woman has the evil eye, you can be sure of it!”
    Leana held up her hand, dismayed to find it shaking. “Dearie, there is no need for such drama—”
    “Drama, is it?” Rose’s color was high and her voice with it. “You are afraid as well, my sister. Don’t pretend you aren’t! ’Tis a grave thing to refuse a gift of food from a bairn on his kirkin.”
    “Rose, you’re frightening your sister,” Jamie cautioned, dismounting as he spoke. “Willie, you ride Walloch while I see my wife and cousin home in the carriage.” The exchange was quickly made, with Jamie seated in the middle, a McBride sister crowded on either side.
    Leana was ashamed to admit how grateful she was to feel his strong shoulder pressing against hers as he held the reins, urging Bess forward. Lillias Brown had unnerved her, with her barbed gaze and her decided frown and her refusal of food, even though they’d had none to offer. By rights, Lillias should have walked a few

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