The Wolfe (92 page)

Jemma’s dark head snapped to him. He
could read the horrible, wrenching pain in the depths of the amber eyes and he
was filled with the same naked agony. Her crying lessened but she turned away
from him, softly moaning in anguish. It took every bit of willpower he possessed
not to run to her and cradle her in his arms. He so wanted to comfort her, and
he needed comforting in return.

“There is no God,” Jemma finally
whispered. “God doesna allow babies to die before their mothers have the joy of
seeing the color of their eyes, or their first smile, or feel them tug hungrily
at their breasts. Nay, Kieran; there is no God; only the devil to cause so much
grief.”

His eyes stung with tears then. God,
if he could only take her own pain upon him he would have done so in a heartbeat.
He could not bear to see her so distraught.

“I love you, Jemma,” he said again,
his voice tight. “There will be other children for us, I promise.”

“I dunna want other children. I want
my daughter!” she screamed as loud as she could, her hands clenched into hard
little fists. Suddenly, she threw herself down on the floor and began clawing
at the stone. “I want my bonny lass, Kieran! Why did she die?
Why?”

Kieran flew off the bed, snatching
her to him whether or not she wanted him to. She was being violent toward
herself, bloodying her fingertips on the stone but the moment he touched her,
her rigid body went soft and limp against him and she clung to him as if she was
drowning.

Her tears came freely, wetting his
chest as he cradled her tightly, and his own tears fell silently on her hair.

They stayed together on the floor
for an eternity, holding each other in the dark as if nothing else mattered in
the whole world but their grief. Jemma cried until there were no tears left, reduced
to a shaking, quivering shell in Kieran’s massive arms.

Her anger towards him had been
great. She had blamed him for everything and his absence only served to feed
her anger. He didn’t care for her or the babe, she was sure, otherwise he would
have been with her for the birth. He only cared about his own pleasure, putting
his seed in her and unconcerned with the end result. She was terrified that if
he touched her again she would bear another dead babe. She would kill herself
if that happened. She could suffer no worse pain.

Except if she lost Kieran. Even with
her black rage toward him, she loved him more than anything on earth. Lord, he
made her feel safe and secure in his enormous arms and when he made love to
her, there was nothing sweeter. His gentle nature made her melt, his wisdom
constantly amazed her. Oh, yes, she loved him and she knew deep down in her
heart that he was not to blame, but somehow it had helped her own grief to
focus her pain on something.

He was here now and that was all
that mattered. Nothing could ever harm her again so long as he was with her.
She had spent three weeks in the black hole of despair and suddenly she felt as
if there were a light at the end of it all, beckoning her away from her grief.
It was at that moment she began the long, slow road to recovery.

“Let me see yer neck,” she said
finally, with a faint, raspy voice.

With everything they had gone
through, it was the last request he expected to hear. Obediently, he tilted his
head and revealed the thick scar that ran along the top of his left shoulder
and onto his neck. It was long and purple. Jemma ran a finger along it,
inspecting it closely.

“So this nearly killed ye?” she
whispered, hiccupping.

“Aye,” he gazed at her lovely, pale
face.

“What happened to the man who did
this to ye?”

He raised his eyebrow faintly. “William
tore him apart with his bare hands.”

Her eyes widened and she stopped
fingering the scar. “He
did?”

Kieran nodded. “Aye, sweetheart, he
most certainly did. I saw it with my own eyes.”

Jemma swallowed, returning to the
scar. “Ye dinna faint when it happened?”

Kieran’s eyes took on a far-away
look, remembering a most unpleasant happening. “Only later, after I had lost so
much blood. But I was quite lucid on the battlefield, even as Deinwald and William
tried to stop the blood loss. But once I did go unconscious, I stayed out for
several days. They thought I was dead.”

Dead.
Like their daughter. Jemma’s
amber eyes met his and she touched his face, running her fingers over his
smooth lips.

“What if ye had died, Kieran?” she
whispered. “What if I lost both you and our babe? How would I live?”

He didn’t want to think about that.
His big hands clasped her head, touching her hair for the first time. “What did
you do to your hair, sweetheart?”

She lowered her gaze, embarrassed
and pained and regretful. “I cut it.”

“I can see that,” he smiled faintly,
letting her know that he wasn’t angry with her. “When?”

She shrugged, touching it absently. “During
a rage,” she muttered. “I took a dagger to kill myself but I dinna have the
nerve. So I chopped off my hair instead. Aloria tried to stop me, but I stabbed
her in the arm. When it was all over, we both sat on the floor covered by my
hair and wept together.”

Kieran sighed heavily, running his
fingers through her hair. “It will grow. Actually, I rather like it. It frames
your face nicely.”

She looked ashamed. “I look like a
boy.”

He pulled her close, nuzzling her
neck. “I can vouch that you are most certainly not a boy.”

She felt him, his warmth and
strength, and all of her anger and hatred and agony melted with him. He was
returned now, and she would lean on his strength. She no longer had to bear her
burden alone.

“I was in labor for nearly two days,”
she said, her voice cracking as she relived the agony. “When Sylvie finally
pulled the babe free, the cord was wrapped around her neck and she was blue.
Sylvie wunna let me see her until I screamed at her.” She felt him kiss the top
of her head. “By that time she was clean and she wasna blue anymore. She looked
as if she was sleeping, like an angel. The priest christened her Bridget Hage
and we buried her the next day.”

She felt something wet on her head
and looked up to see his face streaked with tears. Tenderly, she reached up and
wiped them away.

“My brave knight,” she cooed softly.
“I never thought to see ye cry.”

“I have never had a reason to,” he
replied. He pulled her close to him once again, feeling her warmth next to his
skin. He didn’t want to talk anymore; he simply wanted to hold her.

“Tell me of Jordan,” she asked after
a moment. “Did she have the babe?”

“Aye,” Kieran replied, hoping the
news would cheer her up. “Twin boys more than two weeks ago.”

He felt her stiffen in his arms. “Twins?”
Before he could stop her, she pulled away roughly and looked at him in
disbelief. “Twins? Jordan has two children and I have none?”

This was not the reaction he was
prepared for. He could see another storm erupting and pulled her hard to him,
pinning her small body against his great one.

“Aye, she has two healthy sons and
you must not hate her for her good fortune,” he said into her hair. “It could
have easily been the reverse of the situation. Would you want her to hate you
for bearing a healthy daughter if her children had died?”

She was still against him but he could
fee her rapid breathing. It was a minute before she spoke again. “I dunna hate
her, Kieran, but I would be lying if I said that I wasna jealous. I did so want
to bear you a son, not a dead daughter.”

“You
will
bear me a son,” he
said firmly, kissing her to emphasize his statement. “And another daughter. In
fact, our manse will be near to bursting with all of the children you will bear
me.”

“Then ye dunna feel me… worthless?”
she asked timidly.

He held her back, glaring at her. “Worthless?”
he repeated incredulously. “By damn, woman, you are worth tenfold of any other
woman in the country. You are worth more to me than anything else in this life.
How can you think such a thing?”

Jemma was subdued, not meeting his
eye as her fingers played with the smooth skin of his chest. “Because I feel as
if I have failed ye. Jordan bore two healthy sons, but I could only manage a
stillborn.”

“Shut up about Jordan,” he said
gruffly. “You and she are two different women, not one to be compared to the
other. And do not even imagine that you have failed me in any way, Jemma. You
have surpassed my wildest dreams.”

She looked up at him then and he was
relieved and pleased to see a flicker of familiar flame in the amber eyes. God,
she looked so pale and worn from her ordeal as she reached up and ran her
fingers over his cropped hair.

“I do love ye, Sassenach,” she
whispered. “I dinna mean the things I said to ye.”

“I know you did not,” he said
gently. ‘Twas time to move from the most depressing subject. “Now, the first
order of business is to get you bathed and fed and then, possibly, I will take
you for a walk.”

“But what of the battle?” she wanted
to know. “Surely yer men need ye back to fight with them.”

“You need me more,” he touched her
cheek. “There are more soldiers and knights defending Northwood than the Scots
have ever seen, and with William leading….”

She jumped, interrupting him. “
William
is leading them? But I thought but you said….”

“He did not die,” he supplied with a
grin. “Thank God for Jordan and her Scot stubbornness. She would not let him
die.”

Jemma graced him with a faint smile.
“She loves him too much to let him die. I wanted so badly to go with her to
London when ye said he was injured. I was a-feared he would die and she would
be all alone with no one to comfort her,” she let out a sigh, nodding as the
news sunk in. “Aye, thank God for Jordi’s stubbornness. And English’s strength.”

“English?” Kieran lifted a brow. “How
do you know about that?”

She gave him an impatient
expression. “Good Lord, man, I am her cousin. I know everything about them.”

He smiled, rising from the floor
with her in his arms. Jemma wrapped her arms around his neck, relishing that
his great strength was once again holding her. She let her hand drift over his
shoulder as he turned to the bed, caressing his skin. He felt so good to her
and she had missed him dreadfully.

“The babe was huge, like her father,”
she said distantly. “I pray that the rest of our children aren’t so large. I
had a hell of a time pushing her out through that small hole.”

He smiled and lay her down on the
bed, lying beside her and half-covering her small form with his big body. His
hands stroked her face, her arms, and drifted lightly over her slightly rounded
tummy.

“That small hole is my greatest
source of pleasure,” he whispered seductively into her ear, sending shudders
drilling through her. “It suits me quite nicely, as do you, Lady Hage.”

She closed her eyes, melting against
his touch. “Dunna torture me, husband. ‘Tis far too soon to make love to me.”

“I know,” his face was buried in the
crook of her neck. “But I can still hold you and feel you. Can’t I?”

“I thought ye were going to get me a
bath?” her hands were stroking his warm flesh wondrously, not wanting him to
leave her for a moment.

“Later,” he told her huskily.

CHAPTER FORTY FOUR

William, newly returned from Langton
on the morn, found Adam in de Longley’s former bower. He entered the room
slowly, his eye sweeping the room for any sign of the new earl and quickly came
to rest on the massive high-back chair near the hearth. Even though the chair
was facing away from him, he could see Adam’s long legs spilling over the side
and the top of his red-gold hair as his head rested on one hand.

“Adam,” William called to him
softly.

Adam startled, whirling to face
Northwood’s former captain with astonishment. William knew immediately that the
lad had thought he was dead, as had everyone else. He put up his hands quickly.

“You see not a ghost, I assure you,”
he said. “May I come in, my lord?”

Adam nodded, still quite
overwhelmed. “Sire, we thought you were dead.”

William gave him a lopsided smile. “Indeed
not. All that reminds me of that grievous injury is this pirate patch over my
eye,” he strolled casually toward the lad. “My wife thinks it quite…sexy.”

Adam smiled broadly, realizing he
wasn’t seeing an apparition and glad his hero had not perished as he had been
told.

“God’s bones, am I glad to see you,”
he exclaimed softly.

“And I, you,” he clapped the earl on
the shoulder and bade him sit. William took the chair opposite him. “‘Tis under
tragic circumstances that I congratulate you on your new title and position.
You will represent the de Longley name well. Your father would have been
thrilled.”