Thorn in My Heart (56 page)

He was too near. Her hand moved of its own volition, stroking his rough chin, cradling his handsome cheek. Though he blinked, he did not move away. “Jamie, my father is right. I do not know, not yet.”

Rose's sharp voice startled them both. “Know what yet?”

Jamie stood abrupdy, almost cracking his skull on the low ceiling, while Leana slipped her hand beneath the covers, still feeling the warmth of his skin on her fingers.

She answered smoothly, “Know whether or not Jamie might be free to leave for Glentrool. With you.”

“Ah.” Rose smiled, apparendy satisfied to know they'd been discussing her happiness. “Neda says she will be up shordy with peppermint tea. Come, Jamie. Duncan has need of you down the hall. Something about his ledgers.”

Leana watched him leave, glancing at her over his shoulder. His expression gave away nothing. She made sure her own was blank as well.
Soon
, she wanted to say. She would know very soon, but for now, they could only wait.

The next ten days were spent poring over a calendar, counting and recounting the days from Hogmanay, wondering if her symptoms were an illness or a babe. There had not been a birth at Auchengray in all her years there, not since Rose, and she'd hardly asked any pertinent questions then. Most servants were unmarried, coming and going from year to year. Duncan and Neda's children had arrived long before she was born, then left Auchengray to start their own families.

She could not bring herself to ask Neda what the weariness and nausea meant, the tenderness and the swelling, afraid that a hope spoken
would become a false hope. She would wait and trust God to show her. He had heard her cry. He knew her hearts desire. If a son was growing inside her, he was already in Gods hands.

On the twelfth of February, a perfecdy ordinary Thursday, Leana woke to find snow blowing hard on her third-floor window and nary a drop of blood on her bleached linen sheets.
Please, God.
She bathed to be sure, to keep hope at arms length until she could be certain. But the cloth was clean. For the second month, her courses did not flow.

But her tears did. With joy.
Bethankit!

“A child!” she whispered to the snow piled against her window. “A child!” she said again, laughing into her pillow. She dressed with trembling fingers, filled with energy for the first time in a week.
A child! Even
the coldest of winter days could not steal her joy. Pausing to brush away a fresh spate of happy tears, she slipped her toes inside her leather shoes, grateful for their warmth, grateful for everything. The Almighty had blessed her womb and Jamie's seed. There were too many signs now for it not to be so.

Scrubbed and dressed, she headed for the stair with Lachlans words ringing inside her like a bell.
If Leana conceives a child—your child
—
in those seven months, then you are bound to remain her husband.
Her smile broadened with each footstep. It had not taken seven months, perhaps not even seven days. It might have taken only one night, the most glorious night of her life, when she believed herself innocent and truly loved for who she was.
Leana.
Not Rose.

She turned on the landing, the hall waiting below her and the spence beyond it. Her father had demanded that he be the first to know, even before Jamie. She could not wait to tell him the news.

Master, master! news, old news, and such news as you never heard of!

W
ILLIAM
S
HAKESPEARE

N
eda knew first.

She stopped Leana on the stair, her brows arched, her hands planted on her hips. “I would speak to you at once, in private,” the housekeeper said, the gleam in her eye softening her stern expression. Leana obediendy followed her through the house and into the kitchen, where she was escorted through the scullery and into the chilly laundry. Neda closed the door behind them, locking them safely apart from the rest of the house.

“Now then.” Neda planted her on a stool. “I am the mither of three grown daughters and the granmither of eight. Ye may fool the rest of this household, lassie, but Neda Hastings knows a pregnant woman when she sees one. Aye?”

“Aye,” Leana whispered, then leaped to her feet, clasping her hands. “Aye, its true! I am, I am!”

“God be praised!” Neda swept her into her arms and nearly lifted her off the stone floor, dancing her about in a tuneless jig, wiping away tears, and laughing all the while. When they stopped to catch their breath, Neda held up her finger as though she'd thought of something important and dove into her box of sewing goods on the shelf over the sink.

She pulled out a needle and quickly threaded it with nimble fingers accustomed to the task. “Sit ye doon on that stool and lean back for me, will ye, Leana?”

Leana sat, looking at the needle with misgivings. “Is this something all expectant mothers must do?”

Neda chuckled softly. “Only those who care whether they're having
a lad or a lass.” She held die direaded needle over Leana's womb, dien paused. “ ‘Tis one of die old ways, diough many set store by it. Do ye want to know? Does it matter?”

“It does not.” Leana glanced down at her flat middle, still amazed to think of a child nesded inside her, growing by the minute. “But I do want to know.” She looked at the needle askance. “As long as it wont hurt.”

“Nae. I would niver hurt one
gouden
hair on yer sweet head. Now then.” She held the two threads and lowered the needle. “If it swings in a circle, they say its a wee lass. And if it swings back and forth, its a wee lad.” Both women watched as the string barely moved at all. But when it moved, it did so in a short, straight line. Back and forth.

“Have ye chosen any names yet, child?” Neda grinned broadly. “Perhaps Alec, for Jamie's father?”

“I haven't given it a thought,” Leana confessed. “I must tell Father first. Then Rose, because Ive done her a terrible injustice.” She groaned, already dreading it. “God help me, Neda, it will break her heart. Then I will tell Jamie.”

“And how will this news affect Mr. McKie's heart, d'ye suppose?” When Leana only shrugged, Neda pulled her to her feet and kissed her brow. “Listen to yer auld mither: I saw ye and Jamie on yer waddin day. Jamie can protest all he likes about bein deceived, but the man who loved ye that day and loved ye that night loves ye still, though he does not ken the truth himself yet.”

Leana searched the woman's face for assurance. “Is this a word from God Almighty…or from Neda Hastings?”

Neda smiled and patted her cheeks. “Sometimes we speak the same words, the Lord and me. Trust in his blissin and know that the news will be yers alone to tell. I will speak nary a word. Yer faither is readin by the hearth. Take a cup of tea to him, Leana. I'll see ye're not disturbed.”

A few minutes later Leana carried the tea tray with exceeding care, not trusting her trembling hands or her unsteady feet. “Father, I've brought a bit of refreshment.” Neda closed the door silendy behind her, which her father noticed immediately.

“You're not bringing me tea, Daughter.” He regarded her with a jaded eye. “Youre bringing me news. Aye?”

“Aye.” Perhaps it was best if he'd already guessed. “The babe will arrive in early October.”

“When Jamie arrived. A fortuitous month, it seems.” He leaned back in his chair, ignoring both his book and her tea, a satisfied smile creasing his face. “I did not expect this so soon, Leana. Your…ah, fruit-fulness surprises me.” His smile faded a bit. “You understand, you and Jamie will not be running off to Glentrool. Jamie will still need to work here until August. That was our agreement.”

“Aye, it was.” She hoped Jamie understood that as well. It would be hard enough to tell him the news, without adding to his misery. “I am off to find Rose now and then Jamie. Might I ask you, Father, not to…not to tell anyone until I've spoken with both of them?”

He waved his hand dismissively. “As you wish. I don't envy you the task. You might remind Jamie it's best to be off with the old love before he puts on the new.”

“That is how the saying goes,” she murmured, bowing her head as she took her leave. Her father was pleased. But Rose would be devastated.

Leana hastened up the stair, praying with each step. After a bit of searching, she found Rose carding wool in their workroom on the second floor. “Dear one,” she said, sitting down at her wheel. “I should be spinning if you're carding.”

Rose rolled off a freshly carded bit of wool. “Here you are then.”

Leana held the soft bundle in her hands, thoughts of knitted baby bonnets floating through her head. “Rose, I am already spinning but not on the wheel.” She pressed her hand to her stomach to steady her nerves. “I have something to tell you, my sister. News you will not want to hear.”

“News?” Rose stared at her, a look of fear in her
eyes.
“It's about Jamie, isn't it?” When Leana nodded, the fear in Rose's eyes turned to anguish. “Please don't tell me his child grows in your womb?”

“Aye.” Leana swallowed. “It does.”

Rose gasped and turned away, holding up her carding paddles so Leana could not see her face.

“Rose, I'm sorry! Please, dont hide. Let me talk to you. Let me tell you—

“YouVe told me,” Rose whimpered. “Now go.”

“Forgive me, dearie.” Leana hated to ask, but she had to be certain. “You know…what the terms are? What this means?”

“I do,” Rose said, her voice high and soft like a child's. “It means you will have Jamie as your husband. And I will not. Ever.”

“Aye, it means that. I'm so sorry, Rose. I know that you love him and that he loves you. If it's any consolation, this will be even more burdensome news for Jamie to hear.”

“Och! Its the best news in the world for you though.”

Leana could hardly argue with her. She could only console her. “ ‘Tis the best for you as well, young Rose. It means you are free to seek the richest man in Galloway for a husband. To have a debut, if you like. To go to school in Dumfries. Or spend the summer with Susanne. Or—”

“Nae!” Rose slapped her paddles down on the worktable with a mighty crack. “I'll not have you planning my future for me any longer.”

“I only wanted—”

“You only wanted Jamie!”
Rose stood, her chest heaving, her face flooded with tears. “That's all you've ever wanted, from the minute he arrived. I may not have loved him as soon as you did, Leana, but I love him all the same. And he loves me. He loves
me
!”

“Aye, he does, my sister,” Leana admitted. “And that will be a very difficult thing for me to live with. Knowing he loves you more.”

“Not
more
, Leana!
Only!”
Rose's voice rose to a fevered pitch. “He loves only me. He told me so. He told
you
so. Why can't you keep this babe of yours and let me keep Jamie?”

“Rose, Rose.” Leana reached out to her, but Rose backed away, swatting at her as though she were a hoard of bothersome midges. “Be reasonable, Rose. The child must have a father, as our own father insisted, and to which Jamie agreed. You knew this might happen, dearest.” She made sure their gazes were linked. “You knew, or you wouldn't have given me myrtle tea with willow sap.”

Rose was shocked into silence.

“Aye,” Leana said evenly. “I realized what you were up to, Rose. All those herbs in the stillroom come from my garden, remember?” She leaned forward, able to touch her sister's hand at last. “I understood why you did it. And I understand your pain now.”

Rose brushed away Leanas hand, her voice petulant. “Nae, you do not.”

“Perhaps not. I have wronged you in so many ways, and this is the worst of them. But children are a gift to us from God's hand, Rose. I cannot refuse that gift or the man God chose to deliver it.”

“My Jamie,” Rose said, sniffing.

“Aye. Your Jamie.”
And mine
, Rose stared at Leanas belly, her eyes narrowing. “Does Jamie know?”

“He does not. Not yet.”

“Then /will tell him the terrible news.” Rose leaped for the door, slamming it shut behind her, screaming his name as she ran down the hall. “Jamie! Jamie!”

“Nae!” Leana jumped up to follow her, then grabbed her wheel, dizzy from standing too fast. “Rose, wait!” When she finally regained her balance, Leana hurried after her sister, fearing it would be too late.

And it was.

The greatest griefs are those we cause ourselves.

S
OPHOCLES

J
amie was scattering grain for the hens when Rose came flying out the 1 back door and across the frozen lawn, calling for him, her voice taut as an arrow aimed straight for his heart.

“Jamie, Jamie! The worst has happened! The very worst!” She threw herself at him, knocking his sack of grain to the ground. Her face was hot with tears, her body limp.

He pulled her against him, stroking her hair. In the nearby doocot, the doves cooed and ruffled their wings, flustered by the commotion. “Rose, please. Calm down, beloved. Tell me what's happened.”

“Leana is…Leana is…”

And he knew.

“I'm sorry, Rose,” he whispered, his chest so tight he could barely speak.
The best news. The worst news.
“I'm so sorry.”

“You said…” She hiccuped, nearly drowning in her tears. “You said you would not be…cooperative.”

“I'd agreed to the bridal week, remember? Only one week, only in Dumfries. I've not been alone with her since.” His conscience nagged him.
Except on Saint Bndes night and only for a moment.

Rose wriggled out of his embrace, wiping her tears away with the back of her hand. Her mouth curved downward in a bitter frown. “But you've looked at her.”

More than you know. More than I should.

He kept his voice even. “No more than necessary, for politeness’ sake. She is my wife, if only by law—”

“And now in the flesh.” Rose backed away from him, holding her hands up. “Our love is finished, Jamie. I cannot bear to think of…of
sharing you with her.” She turned and ran off, her skirts rustling in the cold morning air.