Authors: Hannah Howell
“Not too much or ye would not be with child.”
“There is a blessing. I think too that he sees the years atween us as more than they are.” She stood up. “Weel, best I sort out this mess.”
“I will help.”
“Nay, ’tis my temper that set it all awry.”
“Ye can help me next time I have one.”
Islaen laughed. “Fair enough.” She grew somber as she picked up a gown. “I think t’would nay be so upsetting an I could ken for certain that he doesnae put me from his thoughts as he easily as he puts me from his sight, that mayhaps he thinks on us, our marriage and all. Ye ken what I mean, on what we dinnae have and what we could have.”
“I feel certain he does.”
Smiling faintly Islaen did not reply, but concentrated upon cleaning up the mess she had made. She wished she could have faith in such assurances but she could not. When a man was so determined to keep a distance from a woman, it seemed very reasonable to think that he would learn to put that woman from his thoughts as easily as
he did his arms.
Turning from giving her horse a treat, Islaen watched Wallace, the stablemaster, tend a calf. She had often watched him with the animals and recognized the man’s skill. Lately she had found herself thinking a lot about that man’s skill and knowledge. The idea she had was a wild one but she had been unable to discard it. She decided she might as well give it a try. There was nothing to lose in trying and, if her wild thoughts and ideas were right, a lot to gain not only for her own sake but for Iain’s. As she moved towards the man he suddenly moved to take her by the arm and gently lead her to a seat.
“Ye shouldnae walk about the animals too much, m’lady, not in your condition. Ye set here if ye are of a mind to watch.”
“My condition?” she asked calmly.
He frowned at her before turning back to the calf. “Aye the bairn. Didnae ye ken it?”
“Aye, I but wonder how ye did as no one else has, and I have told only Storm and Meg.”
“Och, weel, I have seen the look on the mares and all weel enough to ken.” He flushed and looked at her nervously. “I didnae mean…”
“Dinnae apologize. When a mon loves animals as much as ye do ’tis no insult to be compared to them. Aye and with ones like that chestnut mare of Storm’s ’tis a compliment, for they are verra fine indeed.” She smiled at him and he briefly smiled back. “Mayhaps ye ken what I wish to talk to ye about then.”
“I dinnae ken naught about bairns, m’lady.”
“Be it all so different from foals and calves?”
Wallace stared at her for a moment, then sat down by her feet. “Nay, I dinnae think it is. Are ye afraid?”
“I think every woman holds some fear of birth. Wallace, I am going to confide in ye.”
“Ye can trust me, m’lady.”
“Aye, I ken it. Do ye ken Iain’s fear of childbirth?”
“Aye, m’lady, ’tis no secret though he doesnae ken that, I’m thinking.”
“Nay, possibly not.”
“Is that why ye say naught about the bairn?”
“Aye, that and the fact that, when we were wed, he,” she felt herself color but took a deep steadying breath and continued, “made me promise I would do something to make sure I ne’er got with bairn.”
“Oh.”
“Aye, oh. I didnae do it. I decided the lie was less a sin than what he asked. I also feel sure I can show him that all women need not suffer as his late wife did. That fear he holds must be conquered. If left to fester t’would bring sorrow to both of us. I want bairns and I feel most certain he does too.”
“Aye, m’lady. I am sure he does. Ye can see it in the way he is with his brither’s bairns.”
“Soon I must tell him. There is little hiding it now from a knowledgeable eye. I think Iain remains blind because he thinks me safe from it. I will have lessened the wait a great deal though, and can be thankful for that. What I must do now is try to find a way,
any way, to ease the birthing as much as possible.”
“Ye cannae think I have the answer, m’lady.”
“Aye. Come, Wallace, think. The beasts birth their young so much easier than we.”
“But they, weel,” he flushed and stared at his hands. “They be larger.”
“Oh. Aye.” She too flushed but did not falter. “I am fairly certain there are some differences but nay such differences that your knowledge becomes useless. ’Tis the wrong time of the year to watch the birthings but I ken ye can tell me about them.” She smiled faintly. “We shall have to learn to control our blushes.”
He laughed, then said quietly, “I be a rough mon, m’lady. I am nay sure I can speak on it weel. I mean…”
“Dinnae fash yourself, Wallace. I have near a dozen brothers. I doubt ye can say anything I havenae heard or that will truly shock me. I need the knowledge, Wallace. I need to cure my own fears enough to hide them from Iain. I need to ken as much as I can so that I may do my birthing as quietly as some of your beasts do. To hear my pain willnae help Iain. There is a knowledge here, in the ways of these beasts, and I mean to have it. Will ye help me? Will ye share what ye have learned?”
“Aye, m’lady. I just hope it can help ye like ye wish it to.”
“So do I, Wallace. So do I. Shall we begin?” He nodded and she smiled, relieved to have him agree, and hoping she would be able to conquer the objections she was sure would come from the others as easily.
“Ye arenae going to the stables again?” Meg exclaimed in horror as Islaen donned her cloak.
Sighing, Islaen nodded. She had become a regular visitor to the stables. Wallace had lost all reticence with her and although she was not certain she had learned much to help her with her birth, she had learned a lot of useful, interesting things.
“Aye and I will keep going ’til the cold or my belly stops me.” Islaen started out of her chambers.
“’Tis a dirty place.”
“Far cleaner than some keeps I have been in. Wallace takes excellent care of his animals.”
“Wallace isnae a mon ye ought to be getting so friendly with.”
“Why not? He is a good mon; his work of value.”
“I didnae ken ye had such a love of beasts. I tell ye it isnae right for ye to spend so much time there.”
“And I say I will.” Turning to face Meg, Islaen said firmly, “’Tis important.”
“Why?”
“I dinnae think ye will understand but it has to do with the birthing I must soon go through.”
“Wallace doesnae ken about bairns, only beasts.”
“Who arenae so different from us.” She grimaced when Meg gasped in shock. “I didnae think ye would understand. It doesnae matter. Ye willnae turn me in this. I must ken all I am able to about birthing. If naught else I shall find a way to keep my pain a secret from Iain.”
“If ye ask me, there be too much kept secret here.”
Islaen winced. She did feel caught in a choking net of secrets. The lie she had told
Iain still ate at her. It was also hard to hide the fact that she carried his child, something she felt great joy and pride in, yet could not share.
“I am sorry, lass,” Meg said softly. “I let my tongue work ere I think. T’was unkind.”
“Nay, t’was the truth, pure and simple.”
“Mayhaps, but I ken weel ye didnae want it this way, that secrets from your mon arenae what ye like.”
“Weel, there is one secret that willnae be one much longer, Meg,” she said quietly, her hand resting upon her slightly rounded abdomen.
Watching the group of men riding into Caraidland, Islaen felt her heart leap with delight, then sink, Iain was back. She was pleased to see him but knew this visit would be a troubled one. She was going to have to tell him about the child. Even he could no longer ignore the signs and she felt it was better to tell him than let him find out for himself. It was going to be difficult, however, and she was not looking forward to it at all.
“Ye are what?” Iain rasped, abruptly sitting down on the bed.
Seeing how pale he had gone, Islaen decided she had been right. He was not going to take it well. She had half-hoped that since it was a fait accompli, he would accept it, but realized that had been a foolish hope. A fear that ran as deep as his was not so easily conquered. She could only be thankful that she had only a little over three months left to wait.
Having followed him from the bailey to their chambers she still had her cloak on, so she removed it. “With child.”
With a horrified fascination, Iain’s gaze fixed upon her abdomen. The swell there was small but large enough to round the front of her gown. His dazed mind finally made him realize that such rounding took a while.
“How far along are ye?” he asked suspiciously.
“O’er five months.”
“And ye didnae tell me?” he yelled.
“Nay and, an I hadnae started to show, I would still be keeping it quiet.” She sighed as she saw the anger in his eyes. “Iain, ye didnae want the bairn, didnae want me to get with child at all. I felt t’was news ye wouldnae be anxious to hear so didnae give it to ye until I couldnae hide it any longer. No one likes to tell someone something they dinnae want to hear.”
He stood up and began to pace the room.
“So, I am the last to ken it, am I?”
“Weel, I only told Storm and Meg but, aye, ye may be. As ye can see, ’tis most clear now but no one has spoken on it.”
“If ye had spoken earlier mayhaps we could have,” he began, hating the words even as he spoke them.
“Dinnae say it, Iain,” she whispered. “Mayhaps that is another reason I kept silent. I ken that there are ways to take the bairn from a woman’s body but I would ne’er do it. ’Tis best we didnae have that confrontation.”
“Aye, ye are most like right.” He ran a hand through his hair and stared at her stomach. “I ken I wouldnae have made ye either,” he whispered, then began to collect his things. “It must have been that night ye came to me. I should be hanged for my lack of control. T’was reckless.”
“What are ye doing?” She decided it would be unwise to correct his erroneous conclusion about the time of conception, for then he might start to think about it too much. “Ye arenae going back to Muircraig, are ye?”
“I am going to my own chambers,” he announced as he left her chambers, carrying as many of his things as he could.
“These are your chambers. We are wed, so share a room. My being with bairn neednae change that. The bed is big enough for the three of us,” she jested weakly but he just ignored her, quietly setting his things down and going back to get more. “Iain, there isnae any need for this,” she said a little frantically when he came back into the room.
“Ye are with child.”
“So what? I dinnae understand this at all.”
“Ye need rest and to be treated gently, to be taken great care of.”
“Ye neednae leave our bed to do that.” This was a reaction she had not foreseen,
and was at a loss as to what to do about it.
“Islaen, an I share your bed I will make love to you.”
“Weel, at least now ye ken that ye willnae get me with child.” He ignored that and she began to feel really desperate. “’Tis nay wrong to do so.”
“It could endanger ye or the child.”
“I have been in this state for months and we have made love often.”
“Anither reason why ye should have told me sooner. We are simply fortunate no harm was done.”
“Iain, I am certain t’will nay harm me,” she said as he gently took her by the arm and led her back to her room.
“I willnae take the chance,” he said firmly, then left her standing in the middle of her room.
Stunned, Islaen stared at the door that now separated them. She briefly thought of going after him and continuing the argument, then decided against it. Not only her pride rebelled, but she was sure she would get nowhere while the shock he had suffered was still so fresh. He was in no condition to listen to any argument or reason. It was hard not to race after him and call him an idiot as well as a few other highly unflattering things, but she resisted the urge. She would give him some time to come to his senses. Islaen just hoped she did not grow too round in the meantime, so round that when he did return to her bed she was past caring or he was.
Her hurt feelings about Iain’s reaction to her being with child were soothed somewhat by everyone else’s reaction when Iain announced it. She had been right in thinking that most everyone had guessed but they were clearly as relieved as she felt to have it openly admitted to.
It was still early when she sought her bed. She knew the others would be up late, but she was not truly in the mood to stay with them. As she settled into her empty bed she mused crossly that she did not really have much to celebrate. Now was a time when she and Iain should be sharing the joy of their coming first child, planning the future. Instead, he was soaking himself in wine and ale and would soon be carried off to his own bed. She had the sad feeling that she would get little support and joy from Iain even if all his kin spoke to him. As she started to drift off to sleep, she hoped, a little vindictively, that his overindulgence this night left him properly sick on the morrow.
Iain groaned and collapsed back onto his bed after only half-sitting up. He heard a noise and opened his eyes a little bit to find a solemn Tavis bending over him. A cool cloth on his forehead eased his discomfort slightly.
“This isnae like ye, Iain,” Tavis said quietly as he urged his brother to drink a potion.
Wondering how something that tasted so vile could cure him, Iain rasped, “Getting so fou, ye mean? I have done so before.”
“Rarely. I speak more of how ye are acting. Ye left Islaen alone most of the evening. Storm wished me to point out that ’tis cruel of ye to make your fears so clear. Do ye think the lass has none? ’Tis her first bairn. She must have a few.”
As guilt swamped him, Iain said a little sulkily, “She kens my feelings in this.”
“Aye, but ye need not rub her face in them. And just why are ye here? Why arenae ye in with her?”
“Because she is with bairn and I willnae risk hurting her or the bairn. Nay,” he growled when Tavis made to protest, “ye willnae change my thinking on this. She is a wee lass and having a braw rogue like me at her cannae be good.”
“Just see if ye can cease looking at her and acting as if she is already in the grave,” Tavis snapped and left Iain alone.
It was an effort but Iain tried to follow Tavis’s advice. He knew it was wrong to plague Islaen with his fears, so did his best to hide them, but they still ate at him. Although he was tempted to return to Muircraig, he stayed at Caraidland. He felt a need to watch her, to assure himself that, at least for now, she was healthy and safe. Iain thought he was doing very well until one evening when they sat together in the hall, he trying to read a missive from Alexander and Islaen sewing.
Islaen bit her tongue but the words huddled there could no longer be held back. “Will ye cease?”
Looking at his wife in startled curiosity, Iain asked cautiously, “Cease what?”
“Staring at my belly. God’s teeth, ye are e’er gazing at it as if ye expect the bairn to burst out.”
“That is nonsense,” he said, a little weakly, for he strongly suspected that he had been doing exactly what she accused him of.
“Aye, ’tis nonsense,” she grumbled as she stood up and collected up her things. “Ye neednae keep watching for it. The bairn isnae going anywhere for a few months anyhow and when it does move it willnae come that way.” She hurried away, a little worried that she would say a lot more, too much in fact, if she lingered.
Iain sighed. He again wondered if he should return to Muircraig but could not make himself leave. Although he did make himself stop staring at her so often, he found something else to worry about. Islaen seemed to be spending a great deal of time in the stables talking with Wallace. He was not sure it was good for a woman in her condition to be so close to animals or the stables. He had heard that such things could mark the child although he could not recall exactly how or why that was supposed to happen.
“Islaen?” he ventured as he walked her to her chambers one evening. “Why are ye spending so much time in the stables?”
Pausing just inside her door she stared at him. “To study the animals.”
“Oh. Aye. But why?”
“Because I have a bairn coming.”
“What has that to do with the stables and the animals?”
She wondered a little crossly why no one seemed to understand what she was doing. “They ken how to birth better than we do. Good sleep, Iain.” She abruptly shut her chambers door not really concerned about whether he understood or not.
Although he did not really see what benefit she could get out of it, Iain made no further mention of her visits to the stables. If it eased her mind he felt it was invaluable. He just wished he could find something to ease his.
Finally he left for Muircraig but only stayed away a week. It was late at night when he entered his chambers and he stoutly resisted the urge to go and check on her. That would reassure him as far as his fears for her health went but he knew it would also be a temptation he might not be able to resist. He sighed as he undressed, then washed up and crawled into his too empty bed. Although he felt it best for her health that they sleep apart, he sorely missed her in his bed and ached to hold her. It would be too easy to
convince himself that such care was unnecessary.
Islaen lay in her bed and listened to Iain moving around in his chambers. She was a little surprised that his stay at Muircraig had been so short. Then she started to grow angry as time passed and he did not even come to see her. Muttering soft curses, she sat up and started to get out of bed. She decided that the separation he had forced upon them had lasted long enough. Bracing herself for what would undoubtedly be a taxing argument, she started towards his chambers.
Warily Iain watched his wife approach his bed. The thin shift she wore revealed the changes in her lithe shape. Although the clear signs of pregnancy gnawed at his fears, the sight of her stirred his passion.
“Is something wrong, Islaen?” he asked, silently cursing the telltale huskiness in his voice.
“Aye, verra wrong.” She crawled into bed at his side, ignoring the way he tensed. “My bed is verra empty. My husband is missing.”
“There is a good reason for that.” He clenched his hands as he resisted the urge to pull her into his arms.
“Is there? Weel, I havenae heard it yet.”
“Islaen, an I share a bed with ye, I will make love to you.”
“That is nice to hear.” She turned on her side to look at him. “I thought ye might have lost interest because of the changes in me.”
“Nay,” he rasped and sidled away from her, “but I willnae give into that interest.”
“Why not?”
She was beginning to find it all very amusing, despite a stern self-scolding over such ill-timed levity. Nevertheless the way the large muscular Iain was almost running away from his small pregnant wife was amusing. Reaching out and stroking his thigh, she had to bite her lip to keep from giggling when he nearly leapt out of the bed. His extreme skittishness assured her that he did still want her, and it strengthened her determination to end their needless abstinence. She had no intentions of letting him deprive her of his passion, the one thing he gave her freely.
“Islaen, I could hurt ye or the bairn. Ye ken it weel.”
“Nay, I dinnae.”
“Then ye are being purposely blind.”
“Nay, ye are. Did Tavis e’er leave Storm’s bed?”
“Weel, nay, but…”
“My fither ne’er left my mither’s either. I dinnae ken where ye get this notion.”
“’Tis a reasonable one. S’truth, physicians have espoused it.”
“Aye, they also bleed men with open bleeding wounds, taking more of what the poor soul has already lost too much of. Unless ye mean to toss me about, I cannae see that ye will hurt me. I ken that I might soon grow too full to find pleasure in it, or for ye to want to do it. Seems foolish to waste this time.”
In the face of her calm, Iain found it hard to cling to his resistance. It seemed reasonable that she would know better than he did what she could or could not do. Knowing that his own need for her could be clouding his judgment, he struggled to stay firm in his decision on abstinence. He grimaced when she curled up to his side and he made no move to push her away.
“Considering what lovemaking entails, I cannae believe ’tis fully safe,” he said and
cursed the wavering of his convictions.
“Weel, so long as ye arenae trying to go in whilst the bairn is trying to come out…”
“Islaen!” he gasped.
“Wheesht, ’tis true.” She sensed his weakening resolve and ran her hand over his chest. “Iain, the troubled time for the bairn is in the first three months, while his hold isnae strong. This bairn is weel set. T’would take more than ye would e’er do to shake him free and ye cannae reach him to harm him.”
“Of course I cannae, but…” His words strangled to a halt as her tongue flickered over his nipples and, although he told himself to push her away, his hands burrowed into her thick hair.
Islaen smiled faintly sensing his surrender. She knew all she had to do now was convince him of the safety of making love so long as she was comfortable with it, and they did not get too rough. It was important for she knew how easily he could reclaim his former determination to abstain as well as feel both guilt and anger at her for losing it. Her smile widened as she thought of the perfect way to show him that making love could hurt neither her nor the child.
“Iain,” she said softly, trailing kisses down to his abdomen as she caressed his hips and arranged herself comfortably between his long legs, “I was with child when Fraser tried to rape me.” She decided that was probably true but, even if it was not, it fit in with his opinion of when conception took place.
“Jesu,” Iain breathed in shock, briefly distracted from the passion her caresses were stirring. “He was so rough.”
“Aye. I was with bairn when MacLennon attacked us. He wounded me too, ye recall, and ye werenae verra gentle getting me to safety.” She leisurely kissed her way down one of Iain’s strong legs.