Whence Came a Prince (60 page)

The young minister cleared his throat. “She has … lost the child, then?”

Jamie stared at the floor. The impact of those words was only now beginning to hit him. “She … has.”

Reverend Moodie offered his condolences in a kind and sympathetic tone. His many words were no doubt sincere. But Jamie could not hear them. His mind was fixed on the bloodied sheet and the reality he’d pretended not to see.
Two bairns.
Smaller than the palms of his hands.
Twins.
His darling wife, who wanted nothing more than to be a mother, had lost two children in one day.

The door opened, and Leana stepped into the dim corridor, her arms full of stained bedding, her stance unsteady. “Jamie, she … Rose needs you. She is … still … She.

He was already across the room, claiming the low chair, tucking the sheet round her slender neck. So fragile, so pale. “I am here, Rose.”

Her face was etched with mourning. “Jamie … I had … It was …”

“I ken, lass.” He leaned forward and kissed her, his lips wet with her tears. “Twins. I … saw them. And I am so very sorry. We will … try again, beloved.” He had to say that much now, had to assure her.

But her tears did not stop. “ ’Tis my fault, Jamie. Lillias Brown gave me horrid herbs. Before we married.” She turned her head, hiding her shame. “And a stone necklace that she bade me wear. And spells, cantrips … Oh, Jamie, don’t you see?” Her whisper was tortured. “Our bairns died … because of
me!”

“Nae, lass!” He pulled her into his arms more roughly than he intended, shocked by her words. “Do not say such things.”

“But ’tis
true!
” she sobbed. “ ’Tis …
my fault
.”

“Och, Rose.” He rubbed her back, wishing he might erase the wretched memories of this day and every painful one before it. “Do not punish yourself, my love.” He lowered his voice, lest the minister overhear and think his next words blasphemous. “The Almighty has promised me many children. Have no fear, Rose. You will get well. Your womb will bear sons.”

“But, Jamie …” When she touched the sheet to her body, the linen turned scarlet before their eyes. “Something is … not right.”

He stared, refusing to believe what he was seeing.
’Tis not possible.
There had been enough blood. Too much blood. “Perhaps this is … customary … when a woman …”

Jamie sensed someone behind him and turned to find Leana bearing a pitcher of water and a haunted expression. He searched her eyes for answers. “ ’Tis not unusual, is it Leana? To have this … To …”

She gestured toward her medicines. “Jamie, I must do what I can to stanch the bleeding. If you might let me near her …”

“Of course.” He stood so quickly that the small creepie tumbled over. “Is there anything I might do?”

She nodded toward Reverend Moodie, who’d appeared in the corner. “You can pray.”

“Mr. McKie …” The minister pulled him aside, turning their backs to the women. “I fear I have no medical guides in my small library that address … this … situation. And our village howdie is in Talnotry, delivering a babe for the McCallans.”

Jamie stared at the floor, unable to look at the man’s apologetic face, unwilling to hear what he was saying. “ ’Tis not a ‘situation,’ sir. Rose McKie is my wife. My … 
wife
…”

“Aye, aye.” The man gripped his arm. “And she is being well cared for by her sister. Let us do as she suggested.”

When the minister bowed his head, Jamie did the same, though his heart and mind were across the room with Rose.
Do what you must, Leana. Then let me come to her. Let me hold her.

Though he listened to Reverend Moodie’s solemn words, Jamie had his own entreaties for the Lord.
Make her well. Make her whole. Let there be other children.

Rose moaned, louder than ever. The sound tore through his chest like a rapier. He was beside her in an instant, abandoning the minister to his prayers. “Rose, my Rose! What can I do for you, lass? How can I ease your pain?”

He was vaguely aware of Leana soaking rags in the herb-scented water and pressing them to his wife’s body, but he kept his gaze on Rose’s face. Her eyes were unfocused, red from weeping. Her mouth hung slack as she fought for breath.
Help me, Lord! Give me the words to say.

Jamie leaned closer still. “You are not alone, Rose. We are all here to help you. Try to relax, my love. Your sister kens what she is doing.” He could only hope that was true. Without a physician or a midwife, God’s mercy and Leana’s remedies were their only hope.

And why is that, Jamie?
Because he had dragged his wife halfway across Galloway to spite her father. In a wagon. Sleeping on plaids, like common shepherds. If they were in Auchengray, he could ride to Dumfries and summon Dr. Gilchrist. But they were in the wilds of Monnigaff.
Because of me.

“I should … not have brought you here, Rose.” He stroked her brow, her cheeks, her neck. As if his touch might heal her. As if his words might make everything right. But they could not help. It was too late for that. “Forgive me, Rose. Please … please forgive me.”

“Only if …” With some effort, she turned to face him. “Only if you will … forgive me.” Her dark gaze met his. He saw no spark of hope there. “I brought this on … myself, Jamie. I cursed my father.”

The young minister gasped. “I am sure you are mistaken, Mistress McKie.”

“I … did. I … cursed him.” Her head drooped to the side as if she’d spent all of her energy on her confession.

“Your father deserved it, Rose.” Jamie gripped her shoulders, his despair mounting. “This … this bleeding has nothing to do with him. Nor anything you might have said or done.”

“If I may speak with you a moment, sir.” Reverend Moodie leaned forward and whispered in his ear. “Pardon me, but your wife … Well, I’m afraid the Buik clearly says, ‘For every one that curseth his father or his mother shall be surely put to death.’ Prepare yourself, Mr. McKie. I fear the worst is yet to come.”

L
eana was grateful she’d not heard Reverend Moodie’s comment; Jamie’s response was frightening enough.

“Nae!”
He spun round and grabbed the minister’s coat by the lapels, his voice low but lethal. “I will not have you speak of such things!”

The man’s ruddy skin turned redder still. “I can only speak the truth, Mr. McKie. ’Tis my calling and duty.”

“Then your duties are finished here.” Jamie abruptly released him. “Kindly see yourself out.” Flustered, the young man left the room as Jamie turned back to grasp Rose’s hands.

Stunned by his outburst, Leana kept her head down. Whatever the minister had said did not bear repeating, for it would only upset Rose further.
Jamie, Jamie. Now is not the time.
Yet it was unkind to judge a man who had just lost two sons and was in danger of … 
Nae!
She would not even think the words.

After rinsing the linen cloth, Leana applied it once more to her sister’s body, begging the Lord for mercy. A small pouch, stitched of butter muslin, sat steeping in the hot water; dried lady’s mantle, picked from her physic garden in June, was tucked inside. Leana had stirred in a measure of rose water as well. And tears.

The water should have been pink. Instead it was red.

In her store of medicines, nothing was more healing than lady’s mantle. She’d sent Eliza after a pot of hot water to brew a tea of the herb as well. But if the garden remedy did not work, if the bleeding did not stop…

“Leana?” Rose’s voice was no stronger than a cotton thread. Thin, weak, easily broken.

“Yes, dearie. I am here.” She lightly touched Rose’s hip. “Are you … in pain?” A foolish question.

But Rose surprised her. “Not … like before. I feel … very little.”

Jamie glanced over his shoulder, as if to gauge her reaction. Leana tried not to let her distress show, though her heart ached and her hands trembled.
No feeling. Oh, Rose.

Mustering what strength she had left, Leana cast her gaze about the tiny room and realized what must be done. “Jamie, if you pulled this bed away from the wall, then I might sit on one side of Rose and you on the other. We’ll not crowd each other then.”
And I can see my sister. And I can say
…

“Of course, Leana.” He was already standing, waiting for her to do the same.

Grasping her bowl of herbs, Leana stepped out of the way while he angled the narrow bed, allowing room for her to perch on the right side of the thin mattress.

A light tap at the door announced Eliza, bearing a teapot in one hand and a second footstool in the other. “I thocht ’twould spare yer back, mem, tae have yer ain creepie.”

“Bless you, lass.” Leana prepared the tea at once, using the last of her lady’s mantle. “When this is good and strong, you’ll bring me a cup for Rose, aye?”

Leana scooted her chair as close to the bed as possible, then continued her ministrations, despite the sad truth that they did not seem to be helping. Though she’d tried every possible remedy, they were not enough. Rose was not getting better. Her body no longer twisted and bucked, but the flow of blood was unceasing.

Now that she could see Rose properly, the sight was almost more than Leana could endure. The light was gone from her sister’s eyes. Her smile had faded, and the paleness of her cheek held no promise of color.

The truth was undeniable. Rose was dying.

Leana’s arms went limp. The wet cloth slipped into the bowl.
By sorrow of the heart the spirit is broken.
“Jamie … she …”

“Aye.” His voice was ragged. “I ken.”

Leana abandoned her efforts. Only the Almighty could heal her sister now. She placed the washbowl on the floor, then inched closer, fixing her gaze on Rose. Jamie released one of Rose’s hands and pressed it into hers. How cold her sister’s skin was. When Leana looked at him in silent thanks, she saw her own pain reflected in his green eyes.

The two of them stayed that way for many minutes. Holding Rose’s hands. Murmuring encouragement because they could do nothing else. “I am glad the pain is gone, Rose.” “You will feel better soon.” “I love you, Rose.” They both said that many times.

Leana held back a sob when Rose whispered, “And I love you.” It did not matter whom she meant.

The room was so quiet that Leana jumped when Eliza touched her shoulder. “Mem, will ye be … wantin’ this tea noo?”

Leana glanced at Jamie, and they both shook their heads. “Eliza, if you would not mind …”

“Not at a’, mem.” Eliza sniffed, holding her apron against her mouth. “I’ll be doon the stair wi’ Annabel and Ian. The innkeeper says we may stay as lang … as lang …”

Jamie spared her. “Aye, lass.”

Eliza was gone without a sound except the door latch falling into place.

“Rose, can you hear me?” Leana leaned forward, trying to catch her sister’s eye. “Is there … anything … anything we might do …” She squeezed Rose’s hand until she feared she might hurt her.

“Aye.” Rose’s voice was startlingly clear. “Name … my children.”

Leana stifled a gasp. “Oh, Rose …”

“We’ll have … time …” Jamie fought for the words. “Time for that …later.”

“Please, Jamie.” Rose looked directly at him, her eyes focused. “William. And Alexander.”

“Aye.” His face crumpled.

Leana turned her head, shattered by Jamie’s pain more than her own.
Comfort him on every side, Lord.

Rose had not finished. “Bury them … in the kirkyard.”

When Jamie could only groan, Leana instinctively reached for his
other hand, joining the three of them.
You will not do this alone, Jamie.
“Aye, sweet Rose.” She clasped both their hands tight. “We will take good care of William and Alexander.”

Rose sank deeper into the bed. Her hand seemed to grow smaller. Like a child’s.

Leana felt a stillness in the room. A peaceful silence, like the northern lights in the heavens. Visible, but not audible. Faraway, yet close. She searched her heart for the words of consolation needed, placed there long ago. “Be not afraid, Rose. Neither be thou dismayed. For the L
ORD
thy God is with thee whithersoever thou goest.”

“He is.” Rose breathed the words. She looked at each of them, as if memorizing their faces. “I am not afraid.” A smile crossed her parched lips. “He loves me.”

“I do, Rose.” Jamie could barely say the words. “I do love you.”

Leana watched Rose’s hand in his tighten for a moment. “Never fear. Jamie has you, lass.”

“Nae.” Rose slowly closed her eyes, but her faint smile remained. “ ’Tis not Jamie.”

O
ne hand still held his.
Leana.

“She is gone, Jamie.”

His head sank onto Rose’s heart to receive the last breath. But he felt no air against his cheek. Only the still form of the woman he loved. Grief rose inside him, overwhelming him. He released Leana’s hand, leaving behind her warmth and strength to embrace his wife, holding Rose against his chest, as if that might stanch his pain.
We could not stop the blood, beloved. We tried but we could not.

Jamie wept in silence. Tears soaked her nightgown and his shirt as well, though it did not matter. None of it mattered.

He had failed her. Nae, he had killed her.

Forgive me, forgive me.
However often he might whisper those words, Rose would never hear them. However loud he might shout from the turret of Glentrool, his pleas for mercy would change nothing.

She is gone, Jamie.
The irrevocable truth.

Jamie slowly pulled the pins from her hair, letting the rich mane fall round her shoulders. He buried his face in her rose-water scent.
This cannot be good-bye. It cannot.

He held her, not speaking, not moving, for a long time. While he watched through half-closed eyes, Leana quietly attended to the necessary tasks. The room had no looking glass to cover, nor a clock with a pendulum that needed stopping. Leana opened the door, though she could not open the window. It signified nothing; Rose’s spirit was already gone.