The Clan MacDougall Series (94 page)

Much had happened since Findley had returned with the special license from the king. Brockton was currently being held at Stirling Castle for his past attempts on Maggy’s life. As far as the king was concerned, attempted murder was attempted murder. He had stripped Brockton of all his titles, his lands and holdings but had not decided yet what other punishment would be imposed upon the man.

Findley had told Maggy that he had overheard the conversation between she and Traig and knew the truth—that Ian and Liam were twins. Together they had decided to wait until they boys were a bit older, and the memories of Malcolm Buchannan were no longer so fresh in their minds, before telling Liam and Ian they were, in truth, twins. Findley and Maggy knew it wouldn’t matter either way as the boys didn’t care about bloodlines or lineage; they were brothers in every sense of the word.

The sight of Maggy standing in the doorway, with streams of bright sunlight falling all around her, took Findley’s breath away. He thought she looked like an angel as she smiled down the aisle at him. With her eyes glistening with tears of joy and a smile on her lips, she was a stunning sight to behold. Findley’s legs began to shake and his hands trembled; he could not believe this day had finally arrived. In a short time, they’d make their promise to love, honor and cherish each other for all the rest of their days. Finally, she would be his.

Slowly she made her way down the aisle. Findley’s heart was pounding in his chest and he could barely wait to have her utter the words he’d been longing to hear for months now.

Maggy stopped long enough to give each of her sons a hug before stepping forward and placing her hand in Findley’s. As she looked up at him, so handsome and braw, she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at him. The smile he wore, showing his straight white teeth, gave him the look of a proud, blissfully happy man.

After repeating the vows and promises as the priest instructed, Findley removed his sword and bent to one knee. With one hand on his heart, the other on the hilt of his sword with the tip touching the stone floor, he looked into Maggy’s eyes and made his own pledge.

“As long as there is breath left in me, I shall love ye, Maggy. I pledge my love, my troth to ye. I pledge to protect ye. I’ll lay down me own life fer ye,” tears began to fill in both their eyes. Findley choked slightly, the muscles of his jaw tightening, and he swallowed hard as Maggy wiped away the tears from her cheeks.

“I pledge to raise yer sons, as if they were me own. I will always honor ye, respect and cherish ye, all the rest of me days. I love ye Maggy, more than I love the next breath that I take.”

Clearing his throat, Findley stood and returned his sword to its scabbard. He did not wait for further direction from the priest. Placing his hand on the small of Maggy’s back, he pulled her to his chest. With gentle fingertips, he lifted her chin, whispered “I love ye” and kissed her firmly on her lips.

A roar of cheers erupted throughout the room. Maggy wrapped her hands around his neck, as she returned his passionate kiss. Her heart skipped several beats as he tipped her back, kissing her deeply until they were both out of breath.

When Findley finally broke the kiss, she nearly keeled over from lack of air and the excitement thrumming through her veins. He can kiss me anytime he wishes if he kisses me like that! Her legs wobbled as her face lit with a bright smile.

As they turned to face the well-wishers, Findley bent down and whispered in her ear. “Are ye ready to admit yet that ye find me handsome?”

Maggy couldn’t remove the smile from her face. “Aye, as far as pig-headed lummoxes go, ye be handsome enough.”

Findley quirked an eyebrow and gave her a wink. “’Tis a step in the right direction.”

“And if ye kiss me like that again, husband, I’m apt to admit to anything,” she teased him and gave his hand a squeeze.

In a matter of moments, they were swarmed and pulled apart by their families and friends and nearly suffocated with hugs and well wishes. As Maggy and Findley stood in the middle of the crowd, they found each other with their eyes.

They smiled at each other from a distance. Findley gave her a wink before mouthing the words, “I love ye.” Maggy blushed and returned his words.

It would be a good many hours before the celebration died down and they could slip quietly away to their room. At the moment, neither really cared, for they knew they had the rest of their lives to spend loving each other. And that’s just as it should be.

’T
was a few weeks before Christmastide when Maggy fell ill. Morning, noon, and night, she was throwing up and when she wasn’t throwing up, she was sleeping. None of the herbs or teas that Beatrice brought to her had helped to calm her stomach. Dark circles had formed under her eyes and her color had gone deathly pale.

The healer had been called to tend to her and now they were locked away in Findley and Maggy’s bedchamber. ’Twas the eve of Christmas and Findley and his boys were pacing the halls awaiting news of Maggy. Findley was on the verge of breaking the door down if someone did not allow him entry very soon.

Ian and Liam were huddled together at the end of the hallway. Robert and Andrew paced opposite each other, while Collin traced his new da’s footsteps and followed close behind.

After a time, Ian came racing up to Findley, his eyes filled with tears. “Da!” he said as he grabbed Findley about the leg and refused to let go. “Liam says if mum dies, ye’ll no’ be our da anymore and ye’ll send us away!”

Findley’s heart felt lodged in this throat. He didn’t want to think of losing Maggy. They’d gone through too much to have it all simply ripped away.

He scooped Ian up and hugged him close to his chest. “Ian, yer mum will be fine, dunna worrit,” he whispered, hoping if he said it enough times it might turn out to be true.

But Maggy had been so ill! She couldn’t keep even a plain broth down and it seemed as if the life was slowly draining from her. She did her best to maintain her spirits and tried not to have them worry over her. When she had asked Findley to summon the healer, he nearly keeled over from the fright. She must be seriously ill to call someone away from a family Christmas celebration. He couldn’t lose her. She was his whole world.

When Findley opened his eyes, he noticed all the boys were looking up to him. He hadn’t answered Ian’s burning question.

“Lads, do no’ worry over yer mum, she’ll be well and fine in no time. And no matter what happens, I’ll always be yer da. I’d never send a one of ye away.”

“Do ye promise?” Ian sniffed and wiped away his tears with the palms of his hands.

“Aye, I do so promise!” Findley gave him a hug before setting him to his feet.

His thoughts turned back to Maggy. Please Lord, keep me wife safe and let her be well, Findley prayed silently as he resumed his pacing. He needed Maggy like he needed air. Without her, he was nothing.

Findley paused in front of a tall window that looked out onto the rolling lands of Maldreigh Castle. Together, he and Maggy and the boys were making this their home.

Together Maggy and Findley made plans on how they could bring Maldreigh back to the glorious place it had been long ago. Come spring, they’d plant crops, invest in cattle and sheep, and in a few years they felt they’d be on their way to having a productive castle and plenty of wealth to feed their growing boys.

But then Maggy had suddenly taken ill. And now she was sequestered behind the chamber door with the healer and no one was telling Findley a damned thing! He paced and worried, his heart growing heavier with each passing moment. Findley had grown tired of waiting. If they wouldn’t allow him entry, he’d bust down the door!

Just as he was raising his hand to pound on the door, it opened slowly. The healer, a woman nearly as auld as dirt with long gray hair and more wrinkles than teeth, looked up at him with an irritated scowl.

“Och! Ye nearly scared me to death, m’laird! Ye shouldn’t do that to an auld women!”

Findley was irritated and about to tell her to get out of his way so that he could go be with his dying wife when the auld woman shook her head and clucked her tongue at him. “Ye can go see her now,” she said. “But mind ye! Do no’ upset her!”

Findley swallowed, suddenly frozen with fear. “How is she? Will she live?”

The auld woman shook her head again. With all the wrinkles and missing teeth, it was rather difficult to tell if she was scowling, frowning, or smiling.

“Och! She’s news fer ye. She wanted to tell ye herself,” the old woman shook her head again. “I warn ye, lad, do no’ upset her none! She’s in a verra fragile state and she needs her rest.”

Findley felt his heart fall to his toes. Nay! She couldn’t be dying! He needed her, didn’t she know that? Anger, grief, and sadness blended together and brought tears to his eyes.

The auld woman stepped aside and he raced to Maggy’s side. He knelt by the bed as he took her hands in his. The boys appeared, looking heartbroken, solemn and very afraid for their mum.

“Maggy,” Findley spoke, choking back tears.

“Husband!” Maggy smiled up at him until she saw his eyes brimming with tears and sorrow. “What be the matter?” she asked as she tried to sit. Were they under attack? Had someone died?

“Maggy, I love ye,” Findley said as he squeezed her hands. “The healer didna,” he cleared his throat. “Should I make the boys wait in the hall while ye speak with me?”

Maggy tilted her head a bit confused by the look on Findley’s face. “Nay! Husband, tell me, what be wrong?”

“I dunnae! The healer said ye wanted to speak with me,” he swallowed again, never before feeling this weak or befuddled.

“Aye, I do, but ye look so sad! Are ye no’ happy?”

Findley shook his head. Mayhap she had little time left and was growing delirious. The thought nearly did him in.

“Happy? What have I to be happy about if yer dyin’?” he whispered as he buried his head in her hands.

“Dyin’?” Maggy asked. “Who said I be dyin’?” Had the healer told Findley something she did not share with Maggy? Was Findley here to tell her she was not long for this world? She certainly felt that way, with her queasy stomach and spinning head.

Findley looked very puzzled. “She didna say it outright, but Maggy, ye’ve been so ill for weeks now! Tell me,” he said, bracing himself for the worst. “What did the healer say?”

Maggy bit her lip to keep from laughing. Now she understood. They were all worried because she’d been so sick and the healer hadn’t told them what was the matter.

“Well, I be no’ dyin’,” she said as she tried to sit up. She looked at her boys and could tell that Ian had been crying. They all looked very worried about her and that warmed her heart to no end.

“Lads! Please, yer sorry faces do me no good! And Findley,” she said with a warm smile, “ye worry over nothin’ that won’t be solved come summer.”

He wasn’t sure if he felt relieved, angry or sad. He supposed it was all of those things. She had only until summer bloomed across the valley! Aye, he should be very glad for having a few more months with his beloved wife, but his heart ached with realizing it was nowhere near enough time. He hoped her illness would not leave her suffering and lingering. That was no way for a beautiful lass to die!

Maggy rolled her eyes and punched Findley in the shoulder. “Husband! Please! Ye look like ye’ve lost yer best friend!”

Tears welled in his eyes and streamed down his cheeks. His lovely, sweet, optimistic Maggy! Even with the news she’d received, she still held her good humor. Och! He’d miss her!

“Findley,” she said plainly. “I be no’ dyin’. I be no’ goin’ anywhere for a verra long time. I’ve no illness, ye fool!”

He wiped away the tears and smiled thoughtfully at her. “Maggy, I love ye. Tell me true, lass!”

She let out a long, heavy sigh. “Ye are a fool. And a pig-headed lummox to boot! I be no’ dyin! I be carryin’ yer child!”

His face went blank and he sat taller. He looked as though someone had just punched him in the stomach. “What?”

“I’m with child, ye eejit! Yer child. Our child!” She let the words sink into his thick skull. Och, she had married a tetched man.

Had he not been sitting, he surely would have fainted from the shock. His hands shook as a new wave of emotions came over him. Aye, he was a father to five boys by adoption, but now? Now he’d be a father to his own flesh and blood.

The boys erupted into shouts of joy, while Findley paled further.

“Ye won’t have a girl, will ye?” Liam asked, his face twisted into a look of disgust.

Maggy laughed at him. “We’ll have whatever the good Lord deems we should have,” she said as she held out her hands for a hug.

The boys came to her one by one, giving her hugs and kisses and words of encouragement. She took note that Findley remained seated, looking nearly as ill as she felt. With a smile, she ordered the boys to go and enjoy the celebration below stairs.

She waited until the door closed behind them before turning her attention to her husband. He was staring at something on the wall, muttering under his breath and appeared visibly shaken by the news. It wasn’t the response she had expected.