X Marks the Scot (18 page)

Liadain broke her fast after a restless night of tossing and turning in her empty bed. What Rosalia and Aisling had said made sense at the time. MacGregor was probably seeing to the staff. Of course her husband would not be avoiding her. That would be ridiculous. But she could not stay the slight feeling of abandonment that plagued her.

“Ciaran? I thought Declan was to return to sup last eve. What do ye think happened?” Rosalia whispered.

“I donna know. He said he had something to attend to before he returned to Glenorchy. Aiden and I will travel to Castle Campbell after we break our fast.”

“Mayhap we can come along,” Rosalia suggested, gesturing slightly toward Liadain.

“I donna see why ye cannae.” Ciaran leaned forward at the table and cleared his throat. “Liadain, would ye want to travel to Castle Campbell this morn?”

“Aye. Should I pack or keep my belongings here?” She was not sure of anything anymore.

“’Tis best ye stay at Glenorchy until Declan sees to the staff. He has already assigned Montgomery as the captain of his guard, and I have a handful of MacGregor men who will serve him,” said Ciaran.

“Ye will be back at Castle Campbell before ye know it,” said Rosalia, giving her a reassuring pat on the arm.

Aisling leaned back in her chair. “I willnae be able to accompany ye. Teàrlach doesnae feel well this morn.”

“What ails him? Do ye want me to take a look?” Liadain offered.

“Nay,” Aisling waved her off. “My son isnae warm. He keeps relieving himself and ’tis something that needs to run its course.”

“If it continues for more than one day, let me know and I will gladly see to him.”

Aisling nodded her thanks. “’Tis good to have a healer in the clan who can care for more than battle wounds or brotherly injuries,” she jested, poking her husband in the chest with her finger.

“Wife, ye know we only throw punches when they are deserved.” Aiden looked down the table to Ciaran for obvious intervention. “Ye could help me out, Brother.”

Ciaran went back to his meal. “Ye are on your own with that one.”

“What is that about?” asked Liadain, leaning in close to Rosalia.

Rosalia spoke softly. “They are brothers under the same roof. Donna be surprised when the occasional fist is thrown. ’Tis why they require us women to balance out their wild ways.”

Montgomery approached the dais and gave Ciaran a small nod. “MacGregor, if ye are taking my lady to Castle Campbell, I will accompany ye. ’Tis my responsibility to see her safe.”

Ciaran cocked his head and was about to speak when Rosalia elbowed her husband in the side. “Ye are the captain of Declan’s guard, James. Of course ye should accompany us.” When Montgomery gave Ciaran a smug look, Liadain thought she might get a firsthand look at flying fists.

Montgomery positioned himself before Liadain at the last possible moment. “My lady, I will accompany ye to Castle Campbell after ye break your fast.”

“Thank ye,” she murmured, discomfited.

“James.
Is
mise
James, remember?” He raised his brow and waited for her to respond.

“Aye, thank ye…James,” she said quietly.

“And must I remind ye again of a certain lady wife?” asked Rosalia. Her coolness was evidence that she was not amused. Montgomery turned toward Rosalia and winked, and Ciaran’s entire body turned to stone. “Ignore him, Husband. He only behaves that way because he knows it irritates ye.”

“I only count the days until he willnae be underfoot. Let him plague my brother. They deserve each other,” said Ciaran.

***

Declan dreamt of her. Raven tresses encircled him, ivory skin warm to the touch. She was laughing, and his heart sang with delight. He was so blissfully happy, fully alive. He could not remember a time when he had felt so at peace, and he exhaled a long sigh of contentment.

He looked her over wantonly and she stared at him with longing, as if she had waited for this moment for so long. No obstacles stood before them. She was not the Campbell’s sister and he was not the third son of the MacGregor. Their souls were bound together as one—man and woman. Husband and wife.

Lightly, he fingered a loose tendril of hair upon his wife’s cheek. Mockingly coy, she ran her finger along his jaw. He had placed his hand on her shoulder in a possessive gesture and the healer reached out, catching his hand in hers. Her skin was silky smooth and his breathing hitched at her gentle and overwhelming beauty.

His wife lowered his hand to her taut belly, linking her fingers with his and holding them in place. “There is something I have been meaning to tell ye, Husband.” The healer’s eyes sparkled as though she was playing a game. If he was not careful, he would fall into their molten depths.

“And what is that?” His tone was patient.

A secretive smile softened his wife’s lips. “I am with child.”

A single tear swept down his cheek. He would raise his child with all the love and compassion his own parents had bestowed on him. He was choked with emotion and his next words sounded foreign upon his lips. “Liadain, I love ye with all my heart.”

“Declan,” his wife whispered, her voice sounding far away.

He struggled to hear her. “Liadain,” he called out.

“Declan! Would ye get out of bed, ye daft fool?”

Something jolted him awake, and he thought briefly it was a firm shove from his pestering brother. He opened his eyes and quickly closed them, caught up in the tender memories that slowly faded from his thoughts.

“Please tell me I am dreaming.” Declan opened one eye. “Nay, ye are still here. What are ye doing here, Ciaran? Donna ye have your own household to torment?”

Ciaran walked around the bed, studying Declan’s chamber. “Ye were to return to Glenorchy last eve.”

Declan sat up and ran his hand through his hair. “I told ye. I had something to attend to. It was too late. Besides, ye arenae our mother. I donna need to offer an excuse, and I damn well donna need another of your lectures.”

“Cease. The women are below stairs, as well as Montgomery.”

Declan threw the blankets from the bed. He walked over to the chair and picked up his kilt. “I found myself a cook. She made the bloody Campbell’s meals.”

Ciaran’s eyes widened in surprise. “Ye donna think she will poison ye?”

“Nay, she despised the bloody Campbell as much as we did. I will speak to the healer to confirm the same.” His tunic had fallen to the floor. He placed his foot under the fabric, tossed it into the air, and caught it with this hand.

“Ye mean to say, your
wife
?” asked Ciaran with a look of disapproval.

“Aye, they are one and the same.”

“Declan, we had this conversation before.”

He raised his hand to cease Ciaran’s tongue. “Aye, and I have nay desire to hear it again.”

“Aye, but ye will. Liadain has proven herself. She is your wife. Ye will treat her with respect, Brother. She isnae one of your whores.”

Closing the distance between them, Declan stood within a hairbreadth of his brother. “Donna lecture me on how to treat my wife. Unlike ye, I am verra aware of how to treat and pleasure a woman. Mayhap ye should keep your attention on your own wife and leave me in peace.”

To his surprise, Ciaran took a step back. Perhaps his brother was tired of having the same argument. “I will meet ye below stairs,” said Ciaran. When Ciaran walked out the door with his arrogant swagger, Declan shook his head. He held such similarities with his brother, and yet they were different in so many ways.

Declan dressed, then proceeded to the great hall. It was a contrast to the vast emptiness of what he had encountered the day before. Montgomery stood with a handful of MacGregor men, while Ciaran and Rosalia were seated at the table and his lady wife…was nowhere to be seen.

Montgomery approached him with long, purposeful strides. “MacGregor, the men are assembled. With your command, I shall take them into the bailey for training.”

“Aye, I shall speak with them later.” He watched his men depart the great hall. His men. His guard. His life was truly changing for the better.

He moved over to the bench and smiled at Rosalia. “Sister,” he said, giving her a nod in greeting. He sat beside her and faced Ciaran from across the table. “I must thank ye for the men.”

Ciaran sat still, his eyes narrow. “Use them wisely, Brother, lest I take away what I have given.”

An unwelcome tension fell between them and Rosalia cleared her throat. “Mayhap I should see to Liadain.” She pulled herself to her feet as John bolted through the great hall like a whirlwind.

“I told ye I didnae mean it!” John screamed playfully.

The healer chased after John, her hair tousled and her cheeks flushed. “John, ye will pay for that!” She pretended to step to the right and then moved with lightning speed to the left, capturing John and pulling him close.

The lad screeched with laughter as the healer tickled his sides. “Cease, please!”

She continued to poke him as he wiggled within her hold. “Do ye yield? I will only cease if ye do. I donna believe I heard a yield. What say ye?” the healer asked.

“I yield! I yield!”

For a brief moment, Declan simply watched her with John. She was happy, content. She had not graced him with a smile for so long that he had almost forgotten the heartfelt beauty that she was. She was magnificent, almost glowing.

As soon as the healer released John, the lad made a mad dash out of the great hall. Ignoring the others, Declan spoke only to his wife. “What was that about?”

The healer sat down beside him. “John thought to poke some fun and dropped a worm down the front of my dress.”

Ciaran chuckled and Rosalia giggled.

Declan merely raised his brow. “Did ye get it out?”

“I donna need assistance if that is what ye are asking.” She picked an imaginary piece of dirt from her dress and then turned her head away from him.

“At least it wasnae a snake,” he said jestingly. When the healer turned her head and pursed her lips, he decided to change the subject. “Ye know Anna and John, then?”

“Aye, they lived with us for many years. Anna cooked for my brother and John has always been about.”

“Ye donna think she will poison us?” he asked half seriously.

“Anna? If she didnae attempt to kill my brother while he was alive, she can be trusted. Besides, John is a wonderful lad when he isnae stirring up mischief.”

Declan had pretty much confirmed the same.

“’Tis great, Liadain,” Rosalia said. “Now ye have your guard and your cook. Ye should be able to stay at Castle Campbell.”

“Aye, mayhap a man in the village will tend to the stables,” offered Ciaran.

“When they hear my lady wife has returned and Anna cooks, I donna think we will have trouble finding someone.”

***

It was good to be home. Liadain could barely contain her excitement and could not rest in the great hall any longer. She needed to move. “Rosalia, do ye want to come with me to the gardens? I am nae sure anything lives, but I am curious to see if there is anything worth saving.”

She had taken a step away when MacGregor reached out to stay her. “If John gives ye any trouble, ye let me know and I will have words with him,” he said sternly. A devilish look came into his eyes and a flash of humor crossed his face.

She giggled at her husband’s attempt to make her laugh. “Aye, as long as they are worms and nae snakes, I think we are fine.” When she turned, his hand smacked her playfully on the bottom. She whipped her head around, but he had started to converse with Ciaran, pretending not to notice her reaction.

“He missed ye,” Rosalia whispered as they ambled to the gardens.

“Donna be ridiculous.”

“Why else would he smack your bottom and jest with ye?” Rosalia asked.

“’Tis a beautiful day.”

“I know what ye are doing. Ye are clearly changing the subject.”

“Aye, I am.” A strong flowery scent blew through the air and Rosalia froze in mid-step. “What is wrong?” asked Liadain with concern.

Rosalia became suddenly pale, reaching for her stomach. She ran to the wall, bent over, and heaved, losing her contents.

Liadain was immediately by her side. “What is wrong?”

Rosalia gulped hard as tears streamed down her cheeks. “I donna know. Please donna speak of this to Ciaran. I donna want him to be concerned. I have been feeling poorly for well over a fortnight.” Her face was pale and pinched, and she brushed the tresses from her eyes.

“For over a fortnight?” Liadain’s voice unintentionally went up a notch. “Tell me. What do ye feel?” she asked, reaching out and rubbing Rosalia’s back.

“I have bouts of sickness almost every day.”

“Hmm…Do ye notice ’tis at a certain time of the day?”

“Nay, it happens all day.”

“Is it when ye eat?”

“Nay, ’tis constant. It can be right after I eat or when I smell something. I donna know what causes it.” Rosalia took a deep breath, holding her stomach.

“When was the last time ye had your monthly courses?”

Her eyes widened. “My monthly courses? I donna know. I have ne’er had them regular. I may miss several months and then it comes, and sometimes it doesnae.”

“Do ye notice your stomach increasing?”

“Thank ye for pointing that out, Liadain. Ye sound like my mother. Ciaran is more kind and doesnae mention as much.”

“I am nae referring…” Liadain thought to rephrase the question. “Do ye notice your breasts are swollen?”

“They appear the same to me, but they do ache at times. I donna know. What does all of this have to do with my monthly courses?” Rosalia placed her hand high upon the wall, turning her head to the side. She stretched her back and positioned her face so that it was hidden by her arm. A loud sigh escaped her.

“My lady, I think ye are with child,” said Liadain. Rosalia’s entire body went rigid and Liadain could not see the expression on Rosalia’s face.

“I am nae with child,” Rosalia said as if the answer were obvious.

“How do ye know?”

She paused. “I know. It cannae be…I am barren.”

“
Barren?
How do ye know this to be true? Even if ye donna have your monthly courses timely, that doesnae mean ye are unable to carry a child. Rosalia, ye have all of the symptoms of a woman with child. Who told ye this?”