The Heart Queen by PATRICIA POTTER Page A

awakened something inside herself.
    For a moment, she remembered earlier days, days when she’d been a young girl out riding with her father or brother, and later, when—with the help of a stable hand—she’d slipped off alone to ride the moors and hills. She’d had dogs, a mare of her own, a family who loved her.
    Then it was all gone. And she had lost part of herself with it, and even more after years of being Alasdair’s wife. Only the wee bairns had kept her going, but they had not kept alive the independent, adventurous, curious girl she’d been. Because of the girls, then her son, she’d survived, was even able to love. But she’d walled off a sizeable part of herself.
    But now she felt a stirring, and she wasn’t going to let anyone spoil it. Tomorrow she’d demand to see the books. She’d already taken other steps. She’d taken one of the housemaids, Lucy, as her own personal maid. Clara, who had been promoted to nursemaid, was doing very well. The children liked her and that was Janet’s main criteria.
    Now though, she longed for nothing more than a bath, then to tell the lasses a story. She determined to buy some books for them. Her father had made sure she had an education, and she would continue to see that her lasses did. Weight seemed to lift from her as Lucy brought up buckets of water and after a few
tch, tch, tchs
at the sight of her mistress poured them into the hip bath.
    “Thank you,” Janet said, surprised that the girl still blushed with pleasure when she did so. “Will you ask Clara to bring Colin to me?”
    “Aye, my lady,” Lucy said. “I can bring him, myself,” she said shyly.
    “I would like that,” Janet said. Because she’d been so dirty she’d not stopped in the nursery where Colin had stayed while she worked in the stables. Now she missed him. She missed, in fact, every minute she did not spend with him. He was getting to the curious stage now, crawling and putting everything in his mouth. She loved the trusting way he looked up at her when she picked him up. He’d never had that look for his father, and she regretted that.
    She quickly washed the dirt and muck away, pleased that she had tucked her hair under a cap while working. The hot water soothed the aching muscles.
    Then the door opened and Lucy set a sleeping Colin in the cradle Janet had moved next to her own bed. She got up, dried herself off and stood for a moment in front of the flames in the fireplace.
    She put on a nightshift, padded over to Colin and looked down at him as Lucy left the room. She reached down and picked him up, noticing how much heavier he was getting day by day. Before long he would be toddling all over Lochaene. One day, he would be its lord. And she vowed he would be a good one.
    His eyes opened sleepily and he smiled a slow, lazy smile. Maternal instinct surged in her.
    Nothing would ever hurt him. Not while she had a breath in her body. No matter what she had to do.
    She sang a low lullaby until his eyes closed again and she gently placed him back in the cradle. Soon he would be too big for it.
    Despite her weariness, she felt restless. She checked Colin once again, then headed out the door, up to the battlement. It was a clear night. The stars would be out, as would the full moon.
    She quickly mounted the stone stairs. One hundred and twenty of them. She’d counted them many times. She reached the top of the tower.
    The sky was a carpet of dark blue sprinkled liberally with stars. A few lacy clouds darted in and out like children playing hide-and-seek. The wind was sharp, bracing. She heard a stone clatter somewhere. She swung around. Shadows bobbed and weaved but she saw nothing. She heard the wind. Only the wind.
    Yet she found herself shivering, and not from the cool, night air.
    She took a last look at the full moon riding high in the sky. It was at its best, a huge bold ball decorating the heavens. The cold air stung her but it also made her feel alive. She started to move away