To Marry A Scottish Laird (23 page)

“Murine,” Joan interrupted gently, brushing Garia’s hair impatiently out of her face. “You did good. You saved me. You saved Saidh too. Garia was going to kill her as well and claim Saidh had killed me. So you saved us both.”

“Oh,” Murine said with surprise. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Aye,” Joan assured her and when the other woman let her arms drop and let the log slip to the floor, said worriedly, “Please don’t faint. ’Tis hard to breathe with Garia on me and I think I need help removing her.”

“Oh,” Murine rushed forward at that, reaching for Garia’s arm, but froze and glanced over her shoulder as the door burst open.

“ ’Twas not Murine,” Joan shouted quickly when Cam charged toward them with his father and her uncle on his heels.

“We ken,” her father-in-law assured her as Cam hurried past Murine. The man then frowned and rushed to his wife to check on her, even as her uncle moved to Annabel.

“How did you know Garia was the one?” Joan asked with a frown as her husband dragged the woman off of her.

“She was seen picking apple cores out o’ the garden and she walked the stable boy to the keep,” Cam said grimly, letting Garia drop to the floor so that he could look Joan over. “Are ye hurt? Did she hurt ye?”

“Nay,” Joan assured him, and then smiling, added, “Murine saved me.”

He glanced around with surprise at Murine and Joan smiled at the woman, then said solemnly, “Thank you Murine.”

“Oh . . .” She flushed and waved her thanks away, then promptly fainted.

“There’s something wrong with the lass,” Cam said with a frown.

“Aye,” Joan agreed, slipping off the bed to check on her. “But I think between Aunt Annabel and myself we can sort it out and help her.”

She stilled as Garia moaned behind her, and then turned to peer warily at the woman. When she remained unconscious, Joan scowled and told him, “She admitted to killing Finola and putting the hatpin in the saddle.”

“Did she say what she gave the women?” her uncle asked grimly, drawing her gaze to where he still stood bent over Aunt Annabel, trying to rouse her.

“A sleeping draft,” Joan said quietly. “They will sleep for a while, but should be okay.”

“Thank God,” Artair Sinclair muttered, straightening from Cam’s mother. Scowling at Garia, he asked, “Did she say what she did to the stable boy?”

“The stable boy?” Joan asked with confusion.

“He’s missing,” Cam explained quietly. “He was last seen walking our horses to the keep steps. Garia was with him.”

“Oh dear,” Joan said on a sigh and shook her head. “Nay, she said naught about a stable boy.”

“We’ll find out when she wakes up,” Ross said grimly and then glanced around the room at the unconscious women. “We’d best put everyone in their rooms until the effects of whatever she gave them pass.”

“What’ll we do with the MacCormick lass?” Laird Sinclair asked.

“I’ll take her below and put a guard on her,” Cam decided, bending to pick up the woman now. “I’ll find some men to come help with the other ladies too,” he added, heading for the door. He paused there though, and glanced back to Joan to say, “I’ll be right back.”

Joan nodded solemnly and watched him go. Her uncle and father-in-law were right behind him, their wives in their arms and Joan suspected she wouldn’t see them again until the women woke up. They both looked terribly worried and distressed that their wives had been drugged. It did her heart good to see that. She hoped Cam loved her well enough that twenty years from now he would still care that much about her.

“Joan.”

She glanced around at that whisper, and stood quickly to move to Saidh. The woman was still slumped in her chair, her eyes only half open, but she hadn’t completely lost consciousness.

Joan dropped to her haunches beside her and took her hand as she offered her a smile. “ ’Tis all right. ’Tis just a sleeping tincture. You’ll sleep for a bit, but that’s all.”

“Sorry,” Saidh whispered and Joan shook her head with confusion.

“For what?”

“Could no’ help ye,” Saidh muttered wearily.

“Oh,” Joan patted her hand. “ ’Tis all right. Murine saved the day for both of us.”

“Aye.” She could not tell if the expression that flickered across Saidh’s face then was more surprise or respect for the other woman.

“Rest,” Joan suggested. “We’ll talk when you wake up.”

Saidh’s eyes drooped the rest of the way closed and Joan straightened with a sigh, then glanced to the door as Cam returned with several men behind him. He moved directly to her, collecting a fur from the bed on the way to wrap around her, and then held it there as the men silently moved to the sleeping women.

“Garia woke as I carried her below,” Cam announced suddenly as they watched the men pick up the women.

Joan glanced to him in question. “Did she say anything about the missing stable boy?”

“Aye. She told us where to find the body,” he said grimly.

Joan sighed at this news and shook her head. “Did she say anything else?”

“Nothing worth repeating,” he assured her, and then placed the ends of the fur in her hands and moved to follow the men to the door.

“Fetch their maids to them once ye have them in their rooms so they do no’ wake up alone and scared,” Cam ordered, as they filed out, and then he closed the door behind them.

“That was very thoughtful,” Joan murmured as he turned and walked back to her. “I should have thought of it.”

Cam just shook his head, scooped her up and carried her to the bed. He then settled in it with her in his lap and simply held her in his arms.

“Joan,” he said after a moment.

“Aye?” she asked, tipping her head back to peer at him.

His head was tipped back and his eyes closed. “I love ye.”

“I love you,” she responded at once.

He nodded, and then lowered his head, opened his eyes and said, “Nay, I mean I really love ye. Everything about ye. Ye’ve no need to learn anything. I love ye just the way ye are.”

“But ladies are supposed to know how to sing and dance and shoot arrows and—”

“Aye, I ken that’s what is expected,” he admitted, and then asked, “But what good are those things?”

She blinked at the question in confusion. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“What if ye’d kenned those things when I’d met ye?” he asked. “What could ye have done? Sing me sweet songs while I lay dying, and then dance on me grave?” He gave her a slight shake. “Ye do no’ ken yer own value. Ye saved me with yer healing skills. Ye kenned enough to get us somewhere safe and out o’ the way to heal. Ye’ve got courage, and while ye may no’ be able to shoot an arrow straight yet, yer a damned fine shot with that slingshot o’ yers.” He paused briefly, and then added, “By the by, we should have made sure ye had that fer this little soiree. Ye could have defended yerself better.” He peered at her seriously. “I’d like ye to carry it at all times from now on.”

“Aye, husband,” she said quietly.

Cam released a deep sigh and then promised, “I’ll teach ye anything ye want to learn—to ride, to shoot an arrow, to fight with a sword e’en—but I’ll no’ have ye thinking ye
have
to learn anything fer me. I think ye’re perfect just the way ye are.”

“Oh,” Joan said shakily, tears pooling in her eyes. “And I think you’re perfect too.”

He bent to kiss her gently, then lifted his head again, and asked, “So no more talk o’ annulling the marriage?”

“Nay,” she agreed solemnly.

“Good,” Cam said just as solemnly, and then grinned and added, “No’ that me mother would have allowed it anyway. She’s decided ye’re the perfect woman fer me too.”

“She has, has she?” Joan asked with amusement.

“Aye,” he assured her. “I think me picking ye to wife has raised me in her esteem. She thinks I’m ever so clever now.”

“So do I,” Joan said with a laugh, and then her expression turned serious and she caressed his face. “I do so love you, Campbell Sinclair.”

“And I, you, Joan Sinclair.” He lowered his head then to kiss her and Joan smiled, sure that everything would be all right.

Epilogue

“
K
ENNA AND
A
NNELLA WERE VERY UPSET
that we did not bring them with us.”

That comment from her aunt made Joan glance up from the shirt she was mending and smile at the woman. “I don’t know why you didn’t bring them. They would have been welcome here. We have the room.”

“Payton will bring them once we send word that the babe has arrived. I just did not want them to . . . get in the way,” Lady Annabel said.

“You mean, you didn’t want them seeing the horrors of childbirth and fear having babes themselves,” Joan said dryly, and then quickly pushed thoughts of childbirth from her mind. She’d been doing that for months now, ever since discovering that the wild carrot had failed her and she was with child.

To be fair, Joan supposed the wild carrot hadn’t really failed her. It tended to become less effective with constant use and she had been using it pretty constantly, mostly because Cam’s attentions had been pretty constant. Not that she’d minded . . . until she’d realized she was with child.

Of course, on the bright side, they hadn’t had to use it since then. There was no need to protect against getting with child when you were already with child, and she and Cam had been even more constant since finding out she was with child. Both of them were worried about what was coming, they’d been acting like she was dying, living every moment together as if it might be one of their last, which, of course, was what they feared. That she would not survive labor and their time was limited.

Joan shifted uncomfortably as her stomach cramped, and forced herself to breathe through it. Once it eased, she slid her gaze over the women seated with her in the solar. Her aunt, her mother-in-law, Murine, and Saidh. Aileen had wanted to come as well but Lady Sinclair had left her with her father at Inverderry castle where they had settled when the man had passed on the main castle and title of laird to Cam. Joan was quite sure they’d left the girl behind for the same reason her aunt had left her cousins home. None of them wanted the girls to know what they were in for and be so afraid of it that they tried to avoid getting with child. As for Murine and Saidh, they had become good friends in the last months. They didn’t see each other often, but wrote back and forth quite a bit.

Fortunately, Cam liked them too, and he was the one who had written to invite them to come stay and lend their support when they judged her time was near. He’d done it as a surprise and Joan loved the man for it. Or, at least, loved him more. He was forever doing thoughtful little things like that, and every incident just increased her feelings for him, she thought as her stomach cramped again.

“Are you all right, dear?” Lady Annabel asked suddenly. “You look uncomfortable. Do you need something soft to sit on or—?”

“Nay, I am fine.” Joan breathed with relief as the cramp ended. Forcing a smile she added, “Besides, no position is comfortable now, I am too big.”

Annabel nodded, but her eyes were narrowed slightly as she peered over her and Joan knew the woman would soon realize she was in labor. She was a trained healer too, after all. Still, she’d managed to keep it to herself for some time. Joan had been in labor all morning, the first cramps waking her ere dawn, but they had been mild then and a goodly time apart. They had grown increasingly frequent and uncomfortable ever since. Now they were becoming downright painful. They were also coming so close together, one barely ended when the next began. She wouldn’t be able to hide her situation for much longer, Joan thought and ground her teeth together, breathing slowly through her nose as the next pain hit . . . and it was a doozy.

“Would you like to lie down?” Annabel asked, suddenly beside her.

Joan glanced up with a start, her mouth opening on a gasp of surprise that ended in a groan before she could stop it.

“What’s wrong?” Lady Sinclair was immediately beside her aunt, concern on her face. “Has it started?”

“Has what started?” Murine asked with confusion and received a swat to the arm from Saidh for the question.

“What the de’il do ye think?” Saidh asked with disgust as she stood to join the others around Joan’s chair.

“Please, sit,” Joan panted as the cramping ended. “I’m fine.”

“They are coming much closer together now, dear,” Annabel said gently. “Perhaps we should move to your bedchamber while you can still walk.”

Joan glanced to her with surprise. “How long have you known?”

“Since coming down to break my fast this morning,” Annabel admitted. “You were rubbing your stomach when I arrived, and then just before we got up to come up here, you went very still and bowed your head for a moment.”

“Well why didn’t ye say something?” Lady Sinclair asked, wide-eyed.

“Joan obviously did not want anyone to know, so I respected her wishes,” Annabel said apologetically.

“Well, why wouldn’t ye want us to ken?” Lady Sinclair asked, looking wounded. “We’re here to help ye through it. ’Tis why we came.”

“Aye, ’tis, ye daft woman,” Saidh said with a shake of the head and then moved up to take her arm. “Come on, up with ye. We’ll get ye all settled in bed nice and cozy and ye can squeeze our hands ’til we scream with ye when the pains hit.”

Lady Sinclair frowned slightly and said, “Perhaps Lady Saidh and Murine should wait here. They’re unwed maids. ’Tis no’ proper to—”

“Oh, bullocks to that,” Saidh said at once. “I did no’ travel all this way to sit in the solar while Joan travails in another room.”

Joan chuckled at her friend’s asperity and allowed her to help her up. “Come on then,” she said with a sigh. “I guess Aunt Annabel is right. We should move to the bedchamber while I still can.” Getting to her feet had got more and more difficult the larger her stomach had grown, but standing this time would have been impossible if Saidh hadn’t taken one arm and her aunt the other to help pull her up. Breathless and panting once she got to her feet, Joan glanced around and paused as she noted Murine lying on the floor.

“That lass needs to eat more,” Saidh muttered on a sigh when she followed Joan’s gaze to the prone woman.

“I’ll send one o’ the maids back to help her once we get ye situated in bed,” Lady Sinclair said with a shake of the head. “Come along.”

“Aye,” Joan murmured, eager to get to the other room before another contraction hit. She had barely kept from crying out this last time, and feared once she let loose, she wouldn’t be able to stop. Joan did not want to be screaming her head off on the landing. Cam would hear and know it had started. The longer she could keep him from worrying, the better. If she were lucky, he wouldn’t have to know until it was over and she was, hopefully, presenting him with his new baby. On the other hand, if she didn’t survive . . . well, she didn’t want him having to go through watching that. She loved the man too much.

“Just walk slow,” Annabel advised as they began to walk her to the door. “We can stop if you need to. There is no rush.”

Joan nodded, but was still determined to get to the bedchamber before another contraction hit, and found herself pulling at the hold the two women had on her arms. They were in the hall and halfway to the bedchamber when the next cramp hit. Joan stopped walking at once, her hands instinctively reaching for her stomach. She didn’t know if it was because she was standing or not, but it felt like someone was kicking her front, her back and her innards all at once and she staggered, dropping to her knees before Annabel and Saidh could stop her. That was when her water broke.

“What happened?” Saidh asked with alarm as the liquid puddled on the wooden floor around Joan.

“ ’Tis the water the baby grows in,” Annabel said calmly and assured her, “Do not fret. ’Tis normal. It has to come out so the babe can.”

“Oh.”

That faint cry drew their attention in time to see Murine slumping to the floor just outside the solar door. It seemed she’d regained herself . . . briefly.

“Honestly, one o’ these days she’s going to hit her head so hard when she falls that she’ll no’ get up,” Saidh muttered with a shake of the head. “She really needs to wear some kind o’ cushioned cap that covers her whole head. Mayhap I should make her one,” she added thoughtfully.

“I’ll help,” Joan said on a pained laugh.

“Aye, well, mayhap we could get through this first,” her aunt suggested, kneeling beside her. “Can you still walk or shall I call Cam to come carry you?”

“Nay! Don’t tell Cam.”

Lady Sinclair frowned. “He should ken. ’Tis his child.”

“Aye, and he’ll know once it’s done, but I won’t have him worrying in the meantime,” Joan said at once.

“But if you need help getting to the bedchamber we shall have to call on him,” Annabel said apologetically.

“I can walk,” Joan said determinedly and started to push herself to her feet just as another contraction hit. This one came on hard and fast, and—unexpected as it was—tore a startled scream from Joan before she could stop it. Which caused an immediate commotion amongst the men seated at the trestle tables in the great hall below.

“What’s happening?” Cam shouted. “Joan?”

“ ’Tis all right!” Lady Sinclair called quickly, “Joan is—” She paused when Joan caught her arm and squeezed, then sighed and finished, “Lady Murine fainted again.”

“But I heard Joan scream,” Cam called, sounding closer. He was coming up the stairs.

“Stop him,” Joan hissed through gritted teeth.

“She screamed because Murine dropped her drink as she fell, spilling it all over Joan’s gown,” Lady Sinclair lied. “Go on back to what ye were doing. We’re fine here.”

There was a pause and then the men began discussing the unfortunate Murine and her constant fainting, their voices growing fainter as they headed back downstairs.

Joan closed her eyes with relief, both that Cam wouldn’t worry, and that the contraction had ended. “Thank you,” she whispered, managing a smile for her mother-in-law, and then on a burst of gratitude said, “I think I must be the most fortunate of women. I have the most wonderful husband, a beautiful home, amazing friends, and lovely family.” She squeezed Lady Sinclair’s arm again and smiled. “If I die on the birthing bed, I certainly can not complain that God did not gift me with much first. Including a good and kind woman for mother-in-law.” She added solemnly, “Thank you, Lady Sinclair. You’ve been an angel, teaching me how to run Sinclair this last year, and doing so with the patience of a saint.”

“Do no’ thank me dear, it’s been me pleasure,” Lady Sinclair said, hugging her. Then, dashing away the tears that had sprouted in her eyes, she added sternly, “But no more talk o’ dying. Ye won’t die, ye can’t. Cam would ne’er forgive me and I would ne’er forgive meself.”

“Don’t be silly, even if I don’t survive the birthing bed, it won’t be your fault. You’ve nothing to feel guilty for,” Joan said, and lowered her head as another contraction started.

“Bearnas?” Annabel said uncertainly. “What did you do?”

Struggling with the pain building in her, Joan raised her head to glance at her mother-in-law, frowning when she noted the guilty expression on Lady Sinclair’s face.

Cam’s mother hesitated, but then blurted, “My maid learned from Jinny about the wild carrot seed and I had her switch it out for—”

“You interfering bitch!” Joan was as shocked as everyone else when she shrieked that. It was a combination of betrayal and the pain suddenly ripping through her that propelled it, and then she was too consumed with the agony overwhelming her to pay much attention when Annabel patted Lady Sinclair’s arm and tried to soothe her.

“Joan does not mean that. She is just in pain.”

“Aye,” Lady Sinclair sighed. “But she’s right. I am an interfering old . . . er . . . woman, and if she dies I’ll never forgive meself.”

“I kenned it!”

Joan blinked her eyes open with alarm and cursed rather volubly when she saw Cam stepping off the stairs and rushing toward them.

“Ye’re havin’ the baby!”

“Well you needn’t sound so accusatory. ’Tis not as if I snuck around behind your back and got with child without you. You helped make it,” Joan snapped, pain and frustration making her cranky.

“She does not mean to snap, Cam,” her aunt said at once, turning to pat his arm now. “She is just in pain. You must not pay attention to anything she says.”

“Aunt Annabel,” Joan began, and then cried out with surprise when Cam scooped her up and started quickly down the hall.

“If ye’re going to shout at us and call us names, ye’ll do it from our bed,” Cam said, sounding a little snappy himself.

“ ’Tis perfectly normal, Cam,” Annabel said reassuringly as she hurried after them.

“Aye. Ye should ha’e heard what Annabel called me when she was birthing Payton,” Ross MacKay said, appearing at the top of the stairs. As Cam carried her past, the man pursed his lips and added, “And Annella. And Kenna too, come to think on it.” He shook his head. “My sweet little Annabel shrieked like a fishwife and cursed like a warrior.”

“Thank you, husband,” Annabel snapped, looking embarrassed as she followed on Cam’s heels. “Why do you and the other men not go below and wait? And take Cam with you.”

“I’m no’ going anywhere,” Cam announced firmly, continuing up the hall.

“Well, if ye need a break, yer father and I’ll be in the solar,” Ross announced.

“With
uisge beatha
,” Artair Sinclair added, a pitcher in hand as he reached the top of the stairs.

“Good thinking,” Saidh said, taking the pitcher from him as she passed. Smiling she added, “ ’Twill help Joan with the pain, I’m sure.”

“Damn,” Artair muttered and then turned to peer below and bellowed, “Bring more
uisge beatha
, Aiden. That sassy Buchanan wench stole ours.”

Joan heard Saidh chuckle at the words as Cam carried her into their room and set her on the bed.

The moment he released her he began gathering furs and bolsters and pilling them behind her back. Then he sat down on the side of the bed and took her hands in his.

Joan took in his expression and frowned. He was looking at her as if it might be the very last time he would. Sighing, she turned to Saidh, a breathless laugh slipping from her lips when she saw that she’d poured some
uisge beatha
into a goblet and was downing it. “I thought that was for me.”