Chapter 18
Men
. Mortal or Fae—half-Fae—they thought of one thing and one thing only, especially when imbibing spirits. Evangeline stomped up the curved staircase half expecting to hear Lachlan fast on her heels. He wasn’t.
She frowned.
Hadn’t he said he wanted to explain his remarks to her? Not that they were difficult to understand. He wanted her in his bed. He found her ... desirable. And why in the name of Fae should that make her smile? She knew why. Knowing he desired her instead of despised her was reason enough for her to do so.
Aileanna met her on the stairs, brow arched. “You’re making enough noise to wake the dead, or at the very least the children.”
Evangeline grimaced. The last thing she wanted to do was wake Ava and Olivia. She didn’t know how Syrena and Aileanna managed. If they didn’t need the extra hands to care for Iain, Evangeline would happily return to the Enchanted Isles for some much-needed peace and quiet.
Looking past her with a frown, Aileanna asked, “Is Lachlan ill?”
“Not that I’m aware of.” Evangeline glanced over her shoulder. Now that Aileanna mentioned it, he did appear unwell. His typically sun-bronzed complexion had turned a sickly gray and he was rubbing his chest as though it pained him.
She shrugged, returning her attention to Aileanna. “The three of them are drinking in the hall, perhaps he overindulged.” Which was highly likely, Evangeline thought, given his earlier remark.
A curse followed by a low moan came from one of the chambers on the second floor. Aileanna grimaced. “I can guarantee they’ll be well into their cups before the night is out. Syrena’s in labor.”
There were times when Evangeline found Aileanna’s choice of words bewildering, and this was one of them. “Labor?”
Aileanna patted her shoulder. “Sorry. She’s having her baby. Would you mind sitting with her for a while? I have to let Aidan know, and there are a few things I need to prepare for the delivery.”
“Um. Can’t Mrs. Mac sit with her?” Evangeline asked, knowing Dunvegan’s housekeeper was much better suited for the duty.
“Evangeline, what’s the matter? You’ve gone very pale all of a sudden.”
“I’m not good with babies. I wouldn’t want to—”
Aileanna laughed, waving off Evangeline’s excuse. “Don’t be silly, it will be hours before the baby arrives. Go on up. I won’t be long.”
“I won’t be long. It will be
hours
before she has the baby,” Evangeline mimicked Aileanna’s trilling voice as she stomped down the stairs. She stumbled and grabbed hold of the balustrade, thinking perhaps she’d had a little too much of the wine Mrs. Mac had used to revive her. She’d warned them. But had they listened? No, of course not. As Evangeline had never attended a birth before and she was now newly wed, they thought it important she do so.
Why in the name of Fae they thought it important she bear witness to her friend’s excruciating pain, her cursing and moaning, she’d never know. The memory of the blood and guck, followed by the arrival of first one slimy, squalling red-faced infant and then another made her shudder. And what was wrong with Syrena and Aileanna that they had to have two babies at a time? One was bad enough. And afterward, she’d had to listen to Aileanna, Mrs. Mac, and Syrena, oohing and ahhing over the babies and saying,
they’re so beautiful
.
She shuddered again. They weren’t. They looked like gnomes, wrinkly, bald, ugly gnomes.
Aidan, Rory, and Lachlan looked up when she tripped into the hall. She grabbed hold of Lachlan’s broad shoulder to steady herself. In an effort to rid herself of the images etched in her mind, she reached over and took his mug of ale. Taking a deep restorative swallow, she wiped a hand across her mouth. The three men gaped at her. “What?”she asked.
“Syrena? The baby? Sweet Christ, Evangeline, has somethin’ gone wrong?” Aidan asked, rising from his chair.
She grimaced. “Sorry.” The color left Aidan’s handsome face. She realized then he’d misunderstood her apology and held up her hand. “No. Syrena’s fine and the babies are ... fine. Healthy ... they’re healthy. You can go up now.” Her brain a little fuzzy, she’d forgotten offering to inform Aidan was how she’d made her escape.
About to sprint from the room, Aidan came to an abrupt halt by the chair Evangeline had slumped into. “Did ye say babies—as in two?”
She winced. She didn’t blame him for being upset. “Yes, I’m sorry, there are two of them. And they’re both girls.” She cringed, thinking of the little hellions Olivia and Ava.
Aidan whooped his delight while Rory clapped a congratulatory slap to his shoulder. The two men strode from the hall, announcing the good news to a handful of servants who’d gathered by the doors.
A deep rumble of laughter came from Lachlan. She scowled at him. “It’s not funny. That was one of the most horrific experiences of my life.” She chugged back the ale in an effort to wipe the memory from her mind. He laughed all the harder.
“You wouldn’t think it so amusing had you been there.” She went to take another drink and realized she’d drained the mug. “I’ll have some more. Please.” Covering a hiccup behind her hand, she held out the mug with the other.
Chuckling still, he wiped his eyes. “I doona think ’tis a good idea, Evie. Ye doona drink and ye just drained a mug of ale faster than most men.”
She leaned toward him, feeling a little woozy when she did so. “I think we should go home.” She tried to hold up two fingers, then gave up. “There’s two more. That’s six of them now—six screaming, crying children. Well, no, Jamie and Alex are fine, but the other ones ...” She shuddered.
Two Lachlans leaned toward her. She closed one eye to bring him into focus. He grinned at her, his eyes all warm and crinkly, then took her hand and pressed his lips to her palm. A wave of heat washed over her and she tugged at her robe, fanning herself. “Do you find it warm in the hall?”
“Aye, verra warm,” he murmured as he trailed kisses from her palm to her wrist. “I wish we could go home, Evie, but I doona trust ye to transport us. I’m no’ sure where we’d end up.”
The muscles low in her belly clenched with the feel of his warm mouth on her sensitive skin. She squirmed in the chair. Her gaze drawn to his bent head, his golden hair gleaming in the torchlight, she reached out and stroked her fingers through the thick, silken waves. “Your hair is so pretty,” she murmured.
He chuckled into her palm, then nipped it. “Remind me to bring a jug of ale home with us.”
“Lachlan, bring a jug of ale home with us.”
He groaned. “Did ye eat today?”
She furrowed her brow, trying to search her befuddled brain for an answer. It took a moment to find it. “No. I was going to, and then I came to the hall and heard you say you wanted to take me to your bed. Then I met Aileanna on the stairs and she made me go and sit with Syrena. And she promised, she promised me Syrena wouldn’t have the baby and she did. Lachlan ... Lachlan, are you asleep?” she asked her husband, who rested his forehead on the table.
He shook his head then raised his gaze to her. “Nay, I—”
“Evangeline, Lachlan. Syrena wants to introduce you to your nieces,” Aileanna called down the stairs to them.
“Would you tell her to stop yelling in that manner, she’s going to awaken Ava and Olivia,” Evangeline said, shooting a disgruntled look in the direction of Aileanna’s voice. Noticing another mug, she reached for it.
“Oh, no, ye doona.” He grinned, closing his hand over hers. “Up ye come.”
“You go. I’ve seen them already. Once was enough, thank you.”
“If I have to go, so do ye.” He hauled her from the chair, wrapping a supportive arm around her waist.
“I must warn you, Lachlan,” she whispered, stumbling up the stairs. “They think ... they think the babies are beautiful, but they are not. You mustn’t hurt Syrena’s feelings, though, so just smile and nod as I did.”
“I will,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching.
She studied his chiseled profile. “Are you laughing at me?”
“Nay.”
She stopped him halfway up the stairs, squinting to see if he told the truth. As she did, a horrible thought came to her and she clutched the front of his tunic with both hands. “Lachlan, you must promise me that we will never have babies, ever,” she said desperately.
He cupped her face with his big hands. “I promise ye. No babies fer us. Ye ken, Evie, I think I love ye.”
Relieved, she patted his broad chest. “I love you, too.”
Evangeline gasped and they stared wide-eyed at each other. “Like,” they croaked in unison.
They made their way up several more steps to find Aidan and Rory leaning over the baluster, watching their clumsy approach. “I told ye,” Aidan elbowed his cousin with a laugh. “I win.”
“Nay, they have to be expectin’ in a month fer you to win,” Rory argued.
Evangeline frowned and nudged Lachlan. “What are they talking about?”
“Ignore them, Evie. They’re a pair of drunken fools,” he said. Scowling at the two men, he rubbed his chest.
“Lachlan, you look unwell. Are you in pain?”she asked, noting the color drain from his face.
“Too much ale is all. Come on.”
He tugged her after him. Her stomach lurched, the floor rising up to meet her. “Me, too. I think I’m going to be ill.”
“Aye, I ken how ye feel.”
A warm lush weight filled Lachlan’s hand. Silky strands tickled his chin, invading his senses with their soft feminine fragrance. His cock stirred to life, nudging the luxurious globes it nestled against. He wondered if Evangeline would welcome his attention. His throbbing erection certainly hoped so. It was the first time he’d slept beside her since they’d been wed. Her nights at Dunvegan had been spent curled in a chair by his cousin’s bed. And last eve, when she’d said she felt ill, it had not been in jest. He smiled when in reaction to his hand at her breast, her nipple furled into a tight bud beneath the sheer chemise Mrs. Mac had dressed her in after cleaning her up.
Evangeline had been out cold before her head hit the pillow. Lachlan hadn’t fared much better considering he was stretched out beside her fully clothed. It wasn’t like him to imbibe as he had done. He could blame it on his desire to keep his brother company while awaiting the birth of the bairns, but he knew it was his unrequited lust for the woman now in his bed that had done him in. Unable to resist the temptation of her body curved against his, he nudged the strap of her chemise off the delicate slope of her shoulder. Pressing his lips to the hollow at the base of her elegant neck, he nuzzled the satiny-smooth skin there.
She moaned then squirmed, trying his thinly stretched restraint. Her eyes fluttered and she released a pained groan, bringing her hand to her brow. Not exactly the reaction he’d been hoping for.
From beneath her long lashes, she slanted him a questioning look. “We’re not in the Enchanted Isles, are we?”
“Nay.” He dropped a kiss on her shoulder. “But we can leave as soon as you’re ready. Uscias has been lookin’ after things long enough and I’m sure my family can manage to care fer Iain without ye.” At one time his desire to return to the Enchanted Isles would’ve surprised him. But not now; he wanted his wife to himself.
She raised her head to look down at herself and winced. Lachlan reluctantly slid his hand from her breast. “Thank you for seeing to me. I must apologize for my behavior. I don’t know what possessed me to indulge as I did.”
He chuckled. “There’s no need to apologize. Ye were verra entertainin’. As fer me seein’ to yer care, ’twould be Mrs. Mac who did so.” He skimmed his hand along the curve of her waist to her hip. “Although I would have, but I wasna in much better condition than ye were.”
She rolled to her back, eyes closed. “My head is pounding. Do you think it will stop soon?”
Lachlan couldn’t keep his gaze from her full breasts straining against the sheer white fabric of her chemise, the tantalizing shadow of her nipples. “Aye.” He hoped it would. Placing his palm on her flat belly, he asked, “Ye’re no longer feelin’ ill, are ye?”
She shifted, her hip bumping his straining erection. “No, it’s just my head.”
“Mine aches, too.” And no’ the one she referred to. Fingers splayed, he moved his thumb back and forth over her taut belly, so close to her womanhood he could feel the silken curls beneath the thin fabric. The muscles in her belly quivered and ever so slightly she raised her hips.
“I ken what would make us both feel better, Evie.” He brought his hand to where the chemise bunched at her thighs, revealing long, shapely legs he wanted to feel wrapped around his waist.
“You do?”
“Aye, I do,” he rasped, his voice thick with desire. “Let me take care of ye, like I couldna last eve,” he murmured against her lips, caressing the inside of her velvety smooth thigh.
Her heavy-lidded gaze met his, her cheeks flushed. “You want to ...”
“Oh, aye, I want to verra much.” He teased her lips apart with his tongue, delving inside her warm mouth. The tentative touch of her tongue in return severed the last of his control.