The Highlander's Runaway Bride (13 page)

‘Brodie counsels me that it might take us more time to accommodate ourselves to this marriage. Especially considering our less than fortuitous beginning,' he said softly, so that only she could hear.

‘The laird knows?' she asked. ‘You told him?'

‘I spoke only of a difficult meeting. He urged patience,' he explained. ‘I am not accustomed to answering to a woman, to a wife, about my behaviour or accounting my time to one. For years, I have answered only to the laird.'

She watched him with suspicion in her blue eyes, as though waiting for a blow to fall. When he lifted his hand to wipe across his face, he would swear she flinched before regaining control.

‘I indulged too much last night. After that kiss...' he forced his eyes not to look at her mouth as he continued ‘...and everything else I did wrong, I sought comfort in my cup.'

‘And not in the bed of the lovely Fiona?' she asked. How could she speak the words without any inflection or emotion? Ah. She cared not if he swived other women, as long as he did not bed her.

‘Nay.' He shook his head. ‘I mistakenly went back to my old chamber and slept there. I was so drunk I did not realise it until morn.' Rob waited for a reaction, some reaction. None came. Still, he needed to say the rest of it, for his behaviour and apparent disregard for her had been witnessed. ‘I will try not to embarrass myself or my wife in such a manner again.'

The last words made her tremble for some reason. Worse, he watched her mouth. Her lower lip quivered, and he so wanted to lick it and suck it into his own mouth.

‘I appreciate your candour and your words, sir,' she whispered. ‘I comprehend that you have the right to do as you please, especially in a marriage such as ours,' she began. ‘If I can beg only for discretion that is what I would ask.'

Now it was his turn to react to words. She asked only discretion? She truly cared not. The lady must have realised she'd erred, for she stepped back from him.

‘I only meant that I married you because my father believed your connection through blood and loyalty to the Mackintosh was advantageous. You married me because your laird wanted the same from my father. I think if we try to see more than that between us, we will never have peace.'

The reminders that he was nothing more than a means to an end for his laird and hers stung again. Unfortunately, what she said was the truth.

‘Just so,' he said, realising there was no other choice in this matter between them.

Rob watched as she walked into the keep, leaving him behind without a backward glance. The lady was correct. He knew that. He tried to tell himself that. Through each moment of that day. As he went about his duties to his laird and clan. But the words that echoed in his thoughts were not quite as generous as those.

Damn her and this marriage to hell!

Chapter Fourteen

E
va approached the door and stopped before knocking.

Every day became more and more difficult, and she had to force herself to accept the lady's invitation here. Arabella made her feel welcomed when she did not have to. She pulled her into the clan and introduced her to life in Drumlui Keep. She made her...feel wanted.

And yet, it took every bit of her self-control not to throw herself to the floor weeping at the sight of the very pregnant Lady Mackintosh.

And it took every remembered punishment for not behaving appropriately as the MacKay's daughter to keep herself returning to this chamber each day.

But would it be worse when the bairn was born?

That thought struck her like a blow, and she nearly fell to her knees with pain. Only the sound of footsteps on the other side of the door forced herself to draw it all back within herself and stand tall. She reached out towards the door so it would look as though she was about to knock.

‘Oh, here she is, my lady,' Ailean said, with a warm smile. ‘She was worrying that you were not coming.'

Eva took a deep breath, put a smile on her face and entered the place where she would suffer until given leave to go. Arabella's greeting and hug told Eva that the lady would never have invited her had she known how painful it was for her. But, that would mean exposing her deepest secret, and Eva would not do that.

‘How are you feeling this morn, Arabella?' she asked as she sat in the chair offered her, at the lady's side. Eva clenched her teeth as she watched Arabella's reaction.

‘I feel well,' she said. She slid her hands over her large belly, outlining the shape of the still-growing bairn there. Worse, when the lady pressed on the side of her belly, movement could be seen there as the bairn responded to its mother's touch.

Eva closed her eyes for a moment, remembering the intense joy of feeling that life within her just a few months ago. She grabbed the wooden arms of the chair to keep her hands from stroking her own belly as she used to. She would press when she felt an arm or leg pushing against the skin and then laugh at the feel of the bairn turning and tumbling at her touch.

She would...

The utter silence in the chamber told her she'd been lost in reverie. Eva opened her eyes and found the others watching her. Arabella's keen and clever gaze had not missed a bit of what she'd done.

‘As I said, the rains have kept us prisoner long enough, Eva. I have prevailed upon my husband to take us to a place I think you should see.'

‘But, Arabella, you should not...' she began.

Arabella held up her hand to stop her from arguing.

‘I have had this discussion with my husband, the midwife and every assorted person here in Drumlui Keep and Glenlui village, and I am done with it. I want to have a last outing before I am shut up in this keep to give birth.' The lady stood, so she did, as well. ‘The day is warm and sunny. My husband has agreed to take me there on his horse.'

No one argued with the lady, for her steely stubbornness was honed to a fine edge by the pregnancy. Eva smiled and nodded instead.

‘Where is this place?' she asked. ‘The one you wish me to see.'

Arabella walked to the window and pointed towards the hills. ‘There.'

She joined the lady and looked in the direction she'd indicated. Across this distance she could see what looked to be a small gap in the trees.

‘'Tis deceiving from here. Once you see it, you will understand,' Arabella assured her. ‘In that clearing, Brodie first explained how he'd rather have received more cattle or horses than me in the marriage negotiations between our clans.'

‘Pray you tell me he did not!' Eva covered her mouth in shock at what the lady said.

‘Oh, aye, he did,' Arabella said, nodding her head.

‘And you married him?' she asked.

‘Well, when we got to that part of it, there was truly no other choice.' Arabella's sigh then hurt Eva's heart in its poignancy. She'd heard pieces of their story from Nessa, who was an accomplished gossip.

They'd been in love when they married. Enemy clans who would be united through a marriage. Treachery and vengeance were finally defeated by loyalty and strength and love. A tale nearly unbelievable except for the fact that the proof of it was before her nearly every hour of every day since Eva had met them both.

Even this concession to Arabella's desire to escape the keep for a short time spoke of the laird's love for his wife. Now it was Eva's turn to sigh, but hers was filled with a bit of envy and wistfulness over what would never be. A knock on the door drew their attention.

‘Shall we go then, Arabella?' the Mackintosh asked in a soft voice. ‘As I said...'

‘Only an hour. Only with you carrying me in your arms. Only with my maid and Eva. Aye, husband, I understand your conditions.'

The husband in question let out an exasperated breath and nodded. Stepping back, he held out his arm for the lady to take. Which she did without hesitation. Within minutes it seemed, they were mounted and heading out the gates. The small group moved at a slow and even pace along the road and to the trail that led up the mountainside.

Eva marvelled at the hills and the lands, so very different from the ones where she'd lived. The strong winds of the north coast prevented most of the lands there from having tall trees like those that grew here in the Highlands. She had not noticed much of the scenery as they'd travelled south, so this was her first true look at it all.

Although Arabella urged her husband to move faster, he would not relent. Even the lady's complaints that she could have walked up the hill faster than they were travelling caused no change in their pace. The weather held and they soon arrived at the turn in the road that Arabella had pointed out as the entrance to the clearing.

It was as spectacular a view as Arabella had promised. She drew her horse to a halt and waited as the guard who had accompanied them came to help her down. The laird held his wife close and somehow managed to leap to the ground without jostling her at all. A soft kiss between them made Eva turn away. Soon Arabella walked to Eva's side and began pointing out places and landmarks.

Brodie joined his wife and detailed the width and breadth of their lands and identified the lochs and hills that they could see. Arabella grew silent and then glared at him.

‘Brodie. You promised,' she said to him, ignoring his matching glare.

‘Arabella.'

‘Brodie.'

Eva watched this contest of wills with interest. Her mother would never have dared question or second-guess her father. The retribution for such defiance, especially with others watching, would be terrible. Holding her breath, she waited for this tension to break.

‘Fine!' he shouted, not at his wife but into the sky. ‘An hour, Bella. And Iain will be at the turn of the road. That is all I will allow. And I will not be swayed in this more than that.'

Arabella did not smile until he'd kissed her hard on the mouth and motioned for the guard to follow him out of the clearing. Once they could not hear the sound of the men riding away, they stood in the silence and Eva stared off into the distance at the loch there. It was peaceful, and she closed her eyes, enjoying it for the moment.

Eva did not fool herself—there was an alternate purpose to this little excursion. She steeled her control for the coming interrogation. When the lady sent her maid off to see how far down the path the guard was, Eva knew it was at hand.

‘Will you remain in the keep, Eva?' the lady asked, pacing across a short distance near the edge of the clearing.

‘I do not understand, Arabella. Where else would I live?' The lady's curse, not dissimilar to ones her own husband favoured, told her that something was amiss here.

‘Did he not ask you?' Eva shrugged at the question. ‘No, certainly the daft man did not!' Arabella answered her own query. ‘Brodie offered a cottage for you and Rob in the village, if you preferred that to living in the keep.' Before she could reply, a strange expression spread across Arabella's face.

Eva walked to her and examined her face closely. ‘Are you well?' A fine sheen of perspiration sat on the lady's forehead and her upper lip.

‘'Tis nothing, truly,' Arabella said, turning away. ‘I did not sleep well last night and my back hurts a bit.' She laughed then, sliding her hand from her belly to her hip and back. ‘I suspect I will not be comfortable for some time.'

Eva had a bad feeling about this. Her own labour had begun in the same way—vague pains in her back—but had lasted several days before the true pains struck.

‘When is the bairn due, Arabella?'

Instead of answering, the lady leaned over and grasped her knees, gasping in short, forceful breaths. Then, Arabella grabbed her belly and shook her head as a puddle appeared on the ground at her feet.

‘I think the bairn is coming now, Eva.'

Eva let out a curse worthy of her husband and ran to the edge of the clearing. A glance down the road showed no sign of Ailean or the guard.

‘She won't be there,' Arabella called to her. ‘They...they...'

Are lovers. The words did not have to be spoken for Eva to realise the truth. Arabella allowed her maid to tryst with her lover, the guard assigned them. If anything untoward happened to the lady or the coming bairn, Brodie Mackintosh would have their heads.

Eva ran back and assisted Arabella to sit on a log there, trying to think of how much time had passed. The laird would return in an hour, but would the lady last that long? And if the bairn was turned or other problems existed, what would happen? A low moan echoed across the clearing, telling Eva that things were progressing at an alarming rate.

‘Arabella, I am going to run down the trail and find Ailean and the guard. They must get Brodie—' Her words were cut off as Arabella grabbed her arm with an alarming strength and pulled her close.

‘You cannot leave me, Eva,' she ordered through clenched teeth. ‘Stay. I pray you, stay!'

The terrible hours of fear and pain flooded into her, and Eva shuddered at the thought of what was to come. And how would she survive watching this woman give birth when her own experience still tore her apart, heart and soul? One glance at Arabella's face and the fear filling her eyes gave Eva the answer—she must.

‘I will not leave you, Arabella. I am here,' she promised, repeating the words silently to herself.

Though she prayed that these initial signs of an impending birth were simply the earliest ones with hours and possibly days ahead before the bairn arrived, the next minutes proved her hopes false ones. Pain after pain racked the lady's body, and her breathing grew shallow and quick.

After gathering their cloaks and blankets into a pile, she helped Arabella to the ground there, making her as comfortable as possible for the shorter intervals between pains. Surely, the impatient laird would return before his impatient babe arrived? Although she knew it was not yet an hour since the lady's first pain and loss of water, suddenly Arabella called out that she had to push. Not believing it possible, Eva lifted Arabella's skirts and, after gaining permission, gently reached up to check.

Sweet Jesus, the bairn's head was already out!

‘Arabella, the babe is coming now,' she said, gathering the lady's garments up and guiding her legs apart and her feet flat on the ground.

With but a few pushes, the bairn slid free of her mother's body. Wrapping the woollen blanket around the small one, Eva wiped the blood and mucous out of her eyes and mouth. A sweet little girl. She didn't know she wept until Arabella spoke.

‘Is the bairn well? Is something wrong, Eva? Tell me!' Arabella insisted. Eva shook her head and tried to smile to reassure Arabella.

‘Nay, lady. All is well with this one,' Eva said, holding out the bundle to her. ‘'Tis a girl. A lovely perfect little girl.'

Arabella cried out in joy, and soon both were crying as she gathered the baby to her and kissed her cheeks. ‘She is perfect, Eva.' Arabella touched Eva's hand. ‘I thank you, friend, for staying at my side.'

Eva could not speak, and the sight of the newborn tore her heart apart bit by bit so she stood away and nodded. ‘I will check the road for any sign of Ailean or the laird.' Her throat was thick and words hurt to force them out.

She walked away, keeping her eyes on the road and not on the new bairn or the mother who loved her. She spied the maid and the guard down the road, walking towards her, and called for them. Eva returned to Arabella's side and found her in discomfort again.

‘The afterbirth must come out, lady,' she explained.

Eva knelt down in front of Arabella and was preparing to help when Ailean and the guard ran into the clearing. The maid took one look at the situation and fainted. The guard stood open-mouthed in shock at the sight of his lady and the newborn child. At least, he did until Eva ordered him to seek out the laird and get help. Ailean would have to lie where she fell, for the lady's condition was more serious.

‘Just let it happen, Arabella,' she urged. ‘Do not fight it now.' When the baby cried out, Eva took her and held her close, allowing the lady to follow her body's inclinations without fear for her daughter.

For a moment when she held the bairn, it was as though the months of separation had not happened. For a moment, this was her babe, Mairead. She leaned down and rubbed her head, drawing the edge of the blanket forward and removing more of the fluid and mucous from her. She rubbed her finger down the tender skin of the baby's cheek.

‘Mairead,' she whispered. ‘My Mairead.'

And she looked up into the eyes of the baby's mother.

The very knowing eyes of Arabella Mackintosh.

Eva drew in a shaking breath and tore herself free from the memories of her own delivery, glancing away from Arabella. Sounds on the road drew her attention then, and suddenly Brodie rode in on the massive black horse.