AnchorandStorm (19 page)

Chapter Nineteen

Caroline stared at the letter in her hand. Her fingers shook with rage, even as the rest of her body froze.

Edgar Alexander Armstrong, Ninth Earl of Callander, and

Lady Emily Sinclair Armstrong

announce, with great joy, the birth of their son,

John Alasdair Andrew Armstrong,

on Friday, the fifteenth day of November, 1751.

“Caroline, are you well?” Raymond asked as he came into the dining room and saw his wife sitting as still as a statue at the table. “You look rather pale.”

“It has happened,” she said.

“What has happened?” he asked in between slurps of his turnip soup. “And why are you whispering? Really, Caroline, I don’t know what has come over you—”

“
Shall I scream it then?
” she asked, doing precisely that. “She has given him a son!”

Raymond’s spoon clattered loudly into his bowl and broth sprouted up like a geyser. “Oh God no.”

“Oh yes. It seems your uncle is capable, after all.”

“What are we going to do?”

“Why,” Caroline replied with a sweet smile and wide, innocent eyes, “pay them a visit to congratulate them, of course.”

Raymond knew that look…and it chilled him to the bone.

* * * * *

“Can I see the bairn, milady?” Fen peeked around the door of Edgar and Emily’s bedchamber…just as she did at least ten times a day.

Emily smiled. “Of course, ye can, Fen. In fact, he’s starting to fuss. I think he wants his supper. Would you like to hand him to me?”

“Oh can I, milady, can I?”

The girl fairly skipped over to the baby’s cradle. “Just be sure to hold his head when you pick him up,” Emily advised. She knew Fen would never intentionally hurt him, but she wasn’t sure if the lass had ever handled an infant. Just to be safe, she added, “You may hold him whenever you like as long as Lord Callander, or Angus, or I am there to help you.”

“Thank ye, milady. I won’t pick him up until ye’re there, I promise.” She gingerly lifted the tiny bundle and handed it to Emily as if it were made of the finest crystal.

Emily opened her nightdress and held the baby to her breast. Fen watched, fascinated, as he clamped his little bow mouth around his mother’s nipple.

“Fen? Are ye up there?” Essie’s voice called from downstairs. “I need ye to gather the eggs.”

“Uh oh. I forgot,” Fen said, her eyes wide with surprise. “Coming, Mama.” She turned to Emily, “I have to go now.”

Emily had to laugh. “That’s all right, sweetie. Go and help yer mama, now that ye’ve helped me.”

The girl had no sooner left the room than Edgar and Angus entered. Edgar eased down on the bed while Angus sat next to her. The third man in her life still suckled greedily at her breast.

The tug of her son’s lips created an almost sensual feeling that went straight to Emily’s cunny, as Angus liked to call it. She couldn’t wait for the day she could have intercourse again, but Essie, who had attended her as midwife, had told her she should wait at least a few weeks. And she had to admit, she was a bit sore.

Still, as she looked at Edgar leaning against the pillows on her right and Angus, perched on the side of the bed, she longed for the touch of their hands, the taste of their lips and the fullness of Angus inside her.

She brought her attention back to the men’s conversation. Dair, as they had begun to call him, had his little fists clenched around the index finger of each man. “Will ye look at that, he’s a strong wee lad, no?”

“Yes, he certainly is. He takes after his father,” Edgar replied.

The baby gave an especially hard tug on her breast and Emily gasped.

“Are ye all right? How are ye feeling?”

“I’m fine, Angus. It has been two weeks, after all. And no matter what the two of you and Essie say, I am getting out of bed today.”

Angus started to protest, but before the words left his mouth, the sound of the front door slamming and raised voices interrupted him.

Edgar said, “What in heaven’s name—” but stopped when he heard footsteps coming down the hall.

Suddenly, the door burst open and there stood Caroline Cavendish, her mouth hanging open. “Well, isn’t this a cozy scene?” she said.

Emily was so shocked she made no effort to cover her breast…until she saw Raymond looming behind his wife. But she refused to allow them to interfere with Dair’s nursing. She pulled the blanket over his head and across her breast, just enough to hide it from Raymond’s sight.

“How dare you barge in here,” Edgar said. “Leave this room at once.”

Weston’s voice came from the hallway. “I’m sorry, milord, I tried to stop them, but they insisted.”

“It’s all right, Weston.”

Raymond stepped forward. “Why, Uncle, we’ve only come to congratulate you and to pay our respects to the next Earl of Callander.” It was impossible to miss the hatred behind his statement.

Both Caroline and Raymond were staring at Angus. Emily was glad he hadn’t jumped to his feet when the two of them entered the room. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on here and as conniving as the Cavendishes were, Emily knew they had certainly surmised the arrangement she, Edgar and Angus had. But, like the brave man he was, Angus held his ground.

He stood now and bowed to Edgar and Emily. “Milord, milady, if ye’ll excuse me, I’ll just go and see if Jamie Ross’ cow has calved yet.”

Edgar nodded and Angus moved to the door. Raymond blocked his way for a moment, but the scowl on Angus’ face was enough to frighten even the bravest of men—which Raymond certainly was not. He stepped aside to let Angus pass.

“Aren’t you going to let us see our new cousin, Emily?”

Emily chose to ignore the informal address. “You may see him later, after he’s finished nursing.” She hoped that would get the two of them to leave the room.

Raymond glanced over his shoulder. “We are tired from our journey. Have our bedrooms prepared.”

Then Weston’s voice, “Milord?”

“Yes, Weston, have Mrs. Lamond and Fen prepare the guest rooms. In the meantime, the two of you may wait in the drawing room…
downstairs
,” Edgar emphasized.

They left in a huff, but at least they left.

Emily finished feeding Dair and put him back in his cradle. He had fallen asleep as soon as his little tummy was full. She turned to Edgar. “Well, shall we get this over with?”

Edgar rose from the bed and reached for his canes. “Yes, I suppose. We knew this time would come.”

“And we knew they wouldn’t take it well,” Emily said as she stepped into her clothes.

“No, but there is nothing they can do about it now.”

They went downstairs to the drawing room. Raymond and Caroline stood by the long windows, whispering, but broke apart when Edgar and Emily entered.

“Congratulations again, Uncle. You must be very proud.”

“Thank you, Raymond. Indeed I am.”

“Oh,” said Caroline, “I have forgotten my shawl. Will you excuse me for a moment?”

“I can send Mrs. Lamond for it, if you wish.”

“No,” Caroline quickly replied, as she edged toward the door. “It will take but a second, I know just where it is. No need to bother anyone.”

With that, she was gone. Emily watched her go, thinking that something in her demeanor was very strange, she appeared almost nervous. But then Caroline always was rather strange, in Emily’s opinion.

Fennella came in from the henhouse, her apron full of eggs. She had just finished placing them carefully in the big bowl on the kitchen table when her mother came in. “Ah, there you are. I need ye to go upstairs, get some clean linens and help Mrs. Lamond.”

Her mother appeared somewhat fashed, but Fen didn’t wait to ask her what was wrong. She liked making up the beds—the smell of the sun-dried cloth was so nice. She scampered through the house toward the big, curving staircase.

As she passed the drawing room, she heard voices. She recognized milord’s and milady’s, but there was another—a man—and it sounded familiar, but she couldn’t place it.

To get to the linen closet, Fen had to pass milord’s and milady’s bedroom. Just as she had done every chance she got since Dair was born, she slipped into the room to peek at him.

But someone had gotten there before her. That nasty lady stood by the cradle, holding the bairn up in the air, staring at him. Dair was still drowsy, but was beginning to fuss.

“Ye canna pick him up unless milord or milady or Angus is with ye.” Fen forgot her fear of the woman in her concern over the baby. “And ye have to hold his head. Ye’re not holding his head right.”

“Shut up, you little imbecile. Get out of here.”

“No, I won’t go until milady comes. Ye’re not supposed to hold him unless she’s here.” Fen’s voice grew louder in her concern for Dair. “I’ll go get her, then ye can hold him.”

“
No!
” the lady yelled at her. “I’m putting him down, see. You’re right, I will wait until later to hold him.” She came to the door and waited for Fen to move out of her way. Then she went downstairs.

Fen walked over and knelt next to Dair’s cradle. He was still fussing, so she patted him to get him back to sleep. “Dinna worry, baby, I won’t let her hurt you.”

Suddenly, a chill ran through Fen’s body.
Why do I think she would hurt Dair?
Then the memories came back to her in such quick flashes, it almost made her dizzy. Milord falling down the stairs. Then that nasty woman’s words,
“You tried to kill the wrong person”
and
“She’ll get a surprise when she goes riding.”

Suddenly, it all became clear to her. They tried to hurt milord and milady, now they might try to hurt Dair.

Fen knew what she had to do. “I ken I’m no’ supposed to pick ye up by myself, but I have to. I think yer mama will understand. I know someone who can keep ye safe until those people leave.”

She lifted Dair out of the cradle, being very careful to hold his head, and wrapped his blankets snugly around him. She took the back staircase, even though she knew she would have to go past her mother to get outside. But she couldn’t risk letting that woman see her. “What’s that bundle o’ rags ye’ve got in yer arms, lass?” her mother asked over her shoulder as she kneaded bread for dinner.

“Just some rags, mama,” she answered and ran outside before her mother could stop her.

Mrs. Lamond came into the room just as the door closed behind her. “Fenella, come back here. We need to make up the rooms,” Mrs. Lamond called after her, but she kept running.

She ran into the stable and looked around, but Angus wasn’t there. Neither was Willie, so she couldn’t ask him where Angus had gone. She went up the stairs to Angus’ room and sat down to wait.

* * * * *

Edgar took a deep breath to calm himself. Caroline had been talking for the past half an hour, giving every detail of her two pregnancies and births. Raymond interjected his own comments, which would have someone who didn’t know him believe him to be the most doting husband and father on the planet.

The Cavendishes were more irritating than ever, now that they’d seen their inheritance go up in smoke. Edgar once again thanked God that Angus had given him a son to claim the title, rather than have it go to this fool before him.

“If you’ll excuse me, I should like to rest before dinner and I have to check on the baby,” Emily said.

“Of course, my lady, you must still be weak from your ordeal,” Caroline simpered.

“It was no ordeal. In truth, compared to what you say of your own, it was an easy birth. But this is my first day up and about and I am a bit tired.”