Highland Wedding (21 page)

“Come, Islaen, dinnae look so dowie. He doesnae go to war, only to Muircraig,” Robert said quietly as he put an arm around her.

“Aye, to Muircraig. I grow to hate that place.”

“At least ’tis not a woman.”

“Nay, but it may as weel be.”

“I wish I kenned what to tell ye, how to make it better.”

She smiled at him. “So do I. Och, weel, dinnae fash yourself. This is what I wanted. If ’tis not all I want or need ’tis my worry. No one can mend it for me. I must do that myself or learn to live with what I have. When all is said and done, I have more than many anither. I fear I am just greedy.”

“Nay, not greedy. Ye reach for what we all do. Dinnae cease to reach, Islaen. Someday ye shall look to find it in your grasp.” He kissed her cheek. “Patience, dearling. He is a good mon and I ken he ne’er means to hurt you. ’Tis all that keeps me from beating him.”

She laughed softly, then frowned. “Just why do ye travel to Muircraig, Robert?”

“Many reasons, my wee suspicious sister. The sure way to keep you happy is to keep Iain alive so I go to protect him. I also go to have something to do other than lurking about keeping watch. There is work at Muircraig. And, finally, I go to see that, while he sorts himself out, he doesnae get tempted into erring against you. That Maura and Lady Mary lurk nearby. I dinnae think the first is any threat for she is newly betrothed and sounds a woman wise enough to take what is certain and discard the gamble. Lady Mary is different. I dinnae trust the wench. Iain I trust but he is but a mon, a troubled mon.”

“Aye, weel, take care, Robert.” She did not want to think about Lady Mary, who may not have been fully deterred by Iain’s rejection at court, so she turned her attention to her husband as he approached her and Robert discreetly left. “Ye have fine weather.”

“Verra fine. I pray it holds. ’Tis good weather to work in.”

“Ye will be careful, Iain?” she said softly, grasping his hand.

Taking her hand to his lips, he smiled faintly. “I take as many warriors as workers and craftsmen. Dinnae fash yourself loving.”

“’Tis easier said than done. Will ye stay away long?” she asked quietly, then cursed herself for the weakness that prompted the question.

“There is much work to be done. I dinnae wish to be left with work to do when winter returns again.”

“Nay, of course not.”

“Ye take care, Islaen.” He lightly kissed her. “I will pray for our wee lass,” he added softly, then abruptly left her.

Islaen watched until Iain could no longer be seen, then, with a heavy sigh, turned to go back into the keep. She found herself wishing that Alexander had not made such a fleeting visit, then cursed herself. Her friends and kin could not be made to fill the place her husband left empty in her life. It was wrong and, in Alexander’s case, perhaps a little cruel. There were other ways to fill the days without making demands upon friends and kin. The emptiness Iain left was not something they could ever fill anyway. They could only deter the pain it caused and it was past time that she learned to manage that on her own.

She made her way to the nursery to find Grizel and Liusadh. At first she had been reluctant, almost afraid, to see her little daughter. Islaen realized she did not want to grow too fond of the baby when the child’s life was still so uncertain. Once she faced that, she stopped trying to protect herself. She knew little would ease the loss of a child, even one considered doomed from birth, just as she knew she would deeply regret not coming to know her child for however long God decided to let the baby survive.

Smiling crookedly, Islaen watched Grizel take the baby from the blanket sling Liusadh rarely left. She might come to know her daughter, but Islaen doubted Liusadh would take much notice of her. It hurt a little but, if Grizel’s constant care and love let the child live, it would be worth it. Indeed, not having Liusadh’s full love seemed a small sacrifice if Liusadh gained a full life.

“She is verra tiny,” Islaen said softly as she gazed down at the child she held. “’Tis as if she is but newborn.”

“Och, weel, after holding those two bonnie laddies I suspicion she would feel so, but she’s agrowing, m’lady.”

“Strange, is it not, that she doesnae look as the lads do? In truth she is just the opposite. They have my hair but Iain’s eyes and she has Iain’s hair but my eyes. Ye
would think they would each resemble the other.” She gently touched Liusadh’s dark curls.

“M’lord Tavis’s twins dinnae look exact alike. They too are mixed about. Yet, when they are side by side there is a sameness. She will be a bonnie lass, m’lady. Do ye,” Grizel cleared her throat. “Do ye wish to have the care of her now?”

“Nay, I still cannae give her all she needs. We are verra fortunate to have ye, Grizel. A bairn like this needs constant warmth and food. She would ne’er survive if she had to fight her brothers for it. I but hope she will understand when she grows.”

“Aye, she will, m’lady. I will be sure she does. And grow she will, m’lady,” Grizel vowed softly but vehemently.

“I begin to believe she will. Best ye take her back. There is still the bite of cold to the air, the threat of a chill.” As she watched her daughter disappear into the sling across Grizel’s ample bosom, Islaen whispered, “Another month and my fears for her will ease.”

Outside of the nursery she met Storm who immediately asked, “How fares Liusadh? All is well?”

“Aye,” Islaen replied as she started towards her chambers. “If ye see worry upon my face tis but the fear that that will change.”

Slipping her arm through Islaen’s, Storm said, “Each day she lives gives us reason to hope. She has already lived longer than most thought she would. Find strength in that, Islaen. Why, she does not e’en sicken but grows stronger each day.”

“But so slowly. When I hold her my heart tightens with fear for she is so verra tiny.”

“She began life very tiny. T’will be a while e’er she gains much weight. Mayhaps she but gains now what she was unable to gain in the womb.”

“Aye, I am certain the lads took much of the nourishment.”

“She will probably ne’er be very big, certainly not like her brothers.”

“Nay, of course not. I ken that but ’tis hard to recall it when I hold her. There is so much she must fight, yet with so little.”

“But fight she does, Islaen, so ye know there is strength there.”

“Aye, I do, but I think I will increase my prayers too.” She smiled crookedly as she heard Morogh’s angry squawl come from her chambers as she stopped before her door. “Weel, I think her brothers will see that I delay e’en praying for their wee sister. I hope she has a chance to pay them back for their greediness.”

Storm stayed to help change the boys and to entertain Padruig while Islaen fed Morogh. As soon as Morogh was satisfied, Storm left Islaen with her children.

For a while she played with her increasingly active sons, putting aside her fears for their sister. Despite her pleasure in them she could not fully stop herself from comparing their plump, active bodies to Liusadh’s tiny, too quiet one. It did seem a little unfair that they should get so much and Liusadh so little. The division of health and strength had not been very equal.

Placing her sons in their bed, she knelt by the crib. Singing softly she rocked them, watching them as they fell asleep. At times she wished to see them grow swiftly so that she could know the men they would become, but at other times she wished them to stay babies so that she could hold them in her arms.

Kneeling by the cradle that held her healthy sleeping sons, she clasped her hands. Her thoughts were fully upon Liusadh now, the tiny girl that clung so tenaciously to life,
and she began to pray.

“Lord, Ye must be verra weary of me but I beg Ye to heed me. I thank Ye for my sons but my mother’s heart cries out for more. If ’tis greed, I beg Ye to forgive me but I pray for Liusadh, for my third bairn. God, please, I ken the value of all Ye have given me but, please, let the bairn live. Grant me but one small miracle.”

One small miracle was efficiently stopped from pulling on her brother Morogh’s hair by Grizel, the woman Islaen felt almost fully responsible for her small daughter’s survival, God and Wallace taking the rest of the credit. Liusadh was still tiny but she was very much alive, striving as hard as her brothers to throw off the dependency of infancy. Islaen was so pleased to have her daughter alive and growing that she felt little jealousy about the way Liusadh turned so often to Grizel rather than her mother.

Grizel had followed Wallace’s instructions for plenty of warmth and food with a vengeance. Islaen often mused that, until just recently, Liusadh had seemed permanently attached to Grizel’s ample bosom. Not only had Grizel carried the child next to her warmth with a blanket sling all day, but she had slept with the child at night to further thwart the damp and the chill. Islaen felt Grizel’s grief over her own dead child had turned into an iron determination that Liusadh would live.

Islaen scowled out the window thinking of Iain. She knew full well that Muircraig was no ruin, yet Iain was working long enough hours to have built it from the first stone up. Either that or she would find herself moved into a place fit for a king.

“Does he not plan to return here this night?” asked Storm, breaking into Islaen’s less than kind thoughts about her beloved husband.

“Aye, he will return to eat a hearty meal, quaff a few tankards of ale, then collapse upon his bed to snore the night away.”

“His bed? He still sleeps apart from ye?” Storm’s voice echoed the incredulity written upon her face.

“Quite apart,” Islaen said mournfully. “An his own chambers are too close, he runs to that cursed keep.” She looked down at her figure, then at Storm. “I cannae see that I have changed since having the bairns.”

“Nay, ye were back to yourself long ago.”

“Then what is it? There must be some reason.”

“Mayhaps he fears ye will get with child again too soon.”

“That isnae it, for I plan to use those things. I dinnae want to bear a bairn a year. If they come I willnae pine but I cannae see any wrong in resting a wee bit.” Islaen grimaced. “Especially an I am to bear three at a time.”

“Does Iain know you feel so?”

“Aye. I told him that. An I had born naught but a girl I might have tried again quickly for a son, but there isnae any need for that. In one sitting I have given him an heir and anither son as surety. Nay, Iain cannae be afeard of that.”

After a moment of deep mutual thought Storm saw Islaen pale suddenly. “What ails ye, Islaen?”

“Ye dinnae think he has a woman, do ye? Mayhaps at Muircraig even?”

“Nay,” Storm replied confidently. “These MacLagan men have their faults but they are faithful. As long as the wife warms the bed they will not stray or, at least, not willingly. They are not the sort to keep a mistress. Ye have not turned Iain from your bed?”

“He turns himself from it. I am willing near to shamelessness. Ye forget, though, that he didnae want to wed me.”

“T’was not ye but any woman and well you know it. He did not wish to bury another wife. Ye have eased his fear there. Nay, I will not believe it of Iain, an only
because he ne’er was the wencher his brothers were and are. If Tavis can be faithful, then Iain certainly can.”

Islaen’s fears were not so easily put to rest. “I disobeyed him. It could turn him away.”

“He understood that, Islaen. I heard him forgive ye with my own ears. Ye need not worry on that count.”

She did not want to worry that there was another woman for it tied her stomach into agonizing knots but neither could she put the thought completely aside. Word had come through the usual extensive chain of gossip that Mary was indeed at home and still unwed.

Telling herself that it was wrong to distrust him did not help. He had loved Mary. Though it hurt to admit it, he did not love her. One turning away from Mary’s freely offered charms did not mean that he would consistently reject the woman. His sense of honor would surely weaken in favor of his heart’s dictates.

Recalling his disillusionment that night did not help either. That could fade. The memory of a love shared could make him doubt his opinion. Mary was one who could make full and quick use of that doubt. The woman was one of those who could easily appear innocent no matter how guilty she was. She was also a woman who learned from her errors and would be careful to hold her temper so as not to expose her real nature and aims to Iain a second time. Mary was also one of those women who could sorely tempt a man no matter how he felt about her and Iain had been nearly six months without a woman, if he had been faithful.

“Which isnae my fault,” Islaen thought angrily. She had been more than willing to share his bed again. Once healed from the birth of their children she had gently hinted such to Iain. He seemed oblivious to hints.

She tried to put those thoughts out of her head but it proved impossible. As she lay awake in her lonely bed she found herself wondering if Iain’s was as lonely. It seemed impossible that a man as lusty as Iain could go so long without a woman. She was finding it painfully difficult to go so long without him. For a week she tortured herself with thoughts of Iain having a lover, then sought out Storm for advice. There had to be something she could do.

Finding Storm working in her garden, Islaen sat down on one of the rough benches Storm had had placed there. The flowers were blooming and their sweet scent was refreshing. Islaen could see why even the men no longer teased Storm for planting what many thought was frivolous. It was peaceful and soothing to sit among nature’s beauty.

“I have a problem, Storm,” she said abruptly, not wanting to be wooed by the garden into forgetting her purpose for coming.

“I did wonder. Ye are looking wan as if something preys upon your mind.”

“Aye, Iain.”

“That hardly surprises me. Ye still do not think he has a woman, do ye?”

“Aye, I fear I do. Part of me scolds me for being so mistrustful but that doesnae stop the wondering. He is no wencher, as ye said, and he is a mon that holds dear his vows but he is also a mon that has been months without a woman.”

“And ye have been months without a man.”

“Aye, and as I think on how I feel the doubts grow stronger. A mon isnae bound by the same rules we are.”

“Mayhaps if ye go to his bed, let him know ye are ready and willing.”

“I thought on that. I did it when he took to sleeping apart from me after I told him I was with child. When he does come to sleep at Caraidland, however, his sleep is of the dead. I dinnae think I could rouse him. Also, why should I always be the one? ’Tis pride that makes me say that, I ken it, but, truly, does there ne’er come a time when I should cease running after him, pulling him back to me?”

Sitting back on her heels, Storm looked at Islaen for a moment. “Aye, and I fear I should have reached it ere now.”

“Nay.” Islaen smiled faintly. “Ye suffered a lot to win Tavis’s love.”

“Aye but he ne’er stayed out of my bed. ’Tis why I have trouble knowing what to say to help you. Aye, Tavis and I had many troubles but they were not the same. Had I been a Scot, Tavis would have wed me soon after I came here. All I had to do was make him love me, make him see that he did. Ye could get that from Iain and still have troubles. I do not know what to tell you.”

“Tell me what ye would do in my position. I have many an idea, I but need some direction.”

“Well, I would swallow my anger and give him one more chance. He will come here soon that is certain.”

“Aye, whate’er he feels for me, he cannae stay away from the babes too long.”

“I think ’tis ye he comes to see too,” Storm said softly and Islaen shrugged. “One more chance. Iain’s fears about childbirth ran deep and strong. He may see now that he was wrong but that does not mean he has ceased to view childbirth as a greater trial than mayhaps it is. Ye had three babes, Islaen. Three. Many still find that hard to believe, do not understand how ye could do that and heal as ye did. Iain may feel the same. He may be giving ye extra time to heal.”

“Twa months a bairn? ’Tis a muckle long time indeed,” Islaen said dryly.

“Aye, too long but ye must remember his fears, remember that he looks upon childbirth differently than we do.”

“True. Ye are right. He could think such a birth needs a far longer time of healing than an I had but one bairn. Why he cannae see with his own eyes that I am fine, I cannae say. I think ’tis wrong that men keep apart from childbirth as much as they do. ’Tis what makes them get such strange ideas. ’Tis no more dangerous than the battles they are e’er fighting.”

“Tavis faces it much as he does a battle.” Storm laughed softly. “Ah, but we puzzle them as much as they do us.”

“’Tis just.” Islaen exchanged a grin with Storm, then grew serious. “So, I give him another chance. Then what? He could do as he has done since the birthing, naught but sleep like the dead, and then run back to Muircraig.”

“Ye could hobble him until he comes to his senses.”

“’Tis passingly tempting,” Islaen drawled.

“Well, then ye must chase him again I fear. ’Tis all I can think of.”

“I thought of packing up and going home but I fear he wouldnae stop me nor come for me.”

“That would be your last ploy, the one born of desperation.”

“Aye, tell him what I think, that I have no marriage so might as weel return to being my fither’s wee lass.”

“Exactly, but first go after him one last time, just once and not so blatantly as putting yourself in his bed.”

“Ah, ye mean tempt him and see if he takes the bait, come at him from behind and gently, ye mean.”

Storm nodded. “Ye must reach him when he is awake, alert and has not prepared himself for seeing you.”

“He is ne’er like that when he is here. To catch him like that I must needs reach him at Muircraig.”

“I fear so. ’Tis a longish ride but do ye not think t’would be worth it an it works? Ye would have him back.”

“As much as he would let me, aye. ’Tis a thought, better than most of mine. What excuse would I give for going?”

“Take him a meal. What excuse do ye need? Ye are his wife and ye see him little.”

“Or mayhaps I but wish to see how near to done he is, what Muircraig looks like.”

“Quite so. ’Tis to be your home. He would ne’er think it strange that ye wish to look upon it.”

“So, then, when I draw him off to be alone with me, I seduce him.”

“Aye.”

“I am nay sure I ken how.”

“It should not be hard to do. I would think a man having been without for so long should be easy game.”

“Aye, an he has any passion left for me,” Islaen whispered, voicing her fears. “T’was all I had and I fear I may have lost e’en that.”

“I do not believe that but I know the fears that plague you and only Iain can cure them.” Storm reached out and took Islaen’s hand in hers in a gesture of sympathy. “’Tis hard to love yet not know if that love is returned. I know that well. I dare not tell ye that he loves you but I do feel certain that he cares, he cares a lot. The way he has acted each time ye have been in danger shows it.”

Islaen tried to remember that as the days crept by. She tried to use it to lift her sagging spirits and quell her fears. Unfortunately, she knew that the man Iain was could account for how he had acted when she had been in peril. He was a man who would always stand to protect those smaller and weaker than himself.

It was a week after her talk with Storm that Islaen woke in the middle of the night. A noise in the chamber next to hers told her what had woken her up. Iain had returned. She lay tensely in her bed, but was not really surprised when all went quiet and he did not show.

Silently she slipped from her bed and crept into his chambers. She simply had to look at him. It felt as if it had been years since she had caught even a glimpse of the man she called husband.

Staring at him she felt worry twist her heart. She felt guilty too for she found herself a little glad that the way their lives were at the moment was not doing him much good. He looked haggard and worn. He certainly did not look a man content with his life for even in his sleep he looked troubled, the lines of worry not fading with sleep’s relaxing hold.

She wished he would confide in her even as she feared the knowledge of what troubled him. MacLennon was still a threat but she could not believe that was all of it.
Something else preyed upon him and she felt frustrated that he gave her no clue as to what that was. It left her prey to her own fears and she had the feeling that they were worse than the real problem. Sighing, she clenched her hands into fists to resist the urge to touch him and crept back to her own bed.

In the morning she found Iain in the nursery. She ruthlessly quelled an attack of jealousy over how he sought out the children yet worked so hard to avoid her. No matter what happened between herself and Iain she knew she should be glad that he loved the children. Children needed a parent’s love and, from what she had seen, too few gave it.

Inwardly bracing herself she entered the nursery. She had vowed that he would find no reason in her words or actions to justify his neglect and she intended to stick to that vow. It was getting a lot harder to do, she mused. The urge to beat him soundly with a heavy, blunt object was harder to resist, she admitted to herself as she sat down across from him.

“They seem to have grown apace each time I see them. They will soon be walking.”

‘Probably by the next time ye decide to grace your family with your presence,’ she thought crossly, then took a deep breath to cool her anger before answering, “Aye, Morogh can pull himself to his feet e’en now.”

He laughed and gently ruffled Morogh’s wine-red curls. “He will be a devil, I am thinking.”

“Aye, Padruig is much quieter. My fither feels ’tis Liusadh we must watch, though. He said that e’en before we kenned that she would survive. Fither felt that a wee lass who could hold off death whilst still a bairn was one who would be a right devil.”

For an hour they spoke of and played with the children. Then the boys began to fret, wanting their meal. Without thought, unused to Iain’s presence, Islaen began to nurse Morogh. She blushed when she caught him staring at her. For one moment she met his gaze, then he hastily left. She was almost certain she had seen wanting in his eyes, that blaze of passion that had been so long absent, yet, she mused, an he felt so why did he do nothing about it? Sighing, she forced her full attention to her children as Grizel hurried in to see to Liusadh’s feeding. She was growing weary of trying to understand her husband. It only gave her a headache in the end.