Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
’ T was nearly four o’clock in the morning when Lizabet pushed the newest addition to the Randall clan into the world.
The bairn’s wails could have felled stone walls, they were so loud and strong.
Margaret had never seen a newly born child, let alone heard one. No matter, she knew the sounds of a baby crying meant all was well, at least for now.
In the dimly lit hallway, she stood by herself, listening at the door, enjoying the healthy cries of her newest niece or nephew, trying to hear what all the muffled voices inside the chamber were saying.
A quarter of an hour later, the voices grew louder and louder. Flossie was shouting orders, but Margaret couldn’t understand a word of it. Next, she heard what she thought was the sound of a chair being knocked over.
Lizabet screamed in agony over the commotion.
Margaret’s heart stopped beating for a moment as it filled with dread and despair. The baby’s cries had stopped abruptly. Lizabet screamed again.
Without thinking, Margaret flung open the door and rushed inside.
Lizabet’s screams could be heard throughout the keep, especially when Margaret had left the door open.
Margaret wasn’t prepared for what happened next.
Lizabet was in the bed, on her hands and knees, as naked as the day she was born, her head facing the door. Flossie and Annabella were at the head of the bed, offering words of encouragement to Lizabet.
“Ye have got to be jestin’ me!” Lizabet cried out.
“Nay,” Flossie said with a cluck of her tongue. “’Tis another one, to be certain.”
Lizabet rocked back and forth, gritting her teeth, grunting, pushing, screaming… Margaret had never seen anything quite like it.
Mesmerized, she stood as still as a statue, her eyes as wide as wagon wheels, unable to fully grasp what was happening.
Before she knew it, Elayne was thrusting a newly born baby into her arms so that she could help Flossie and Annabella.
’Twas in that little moment, while a mother cried out in pain, fighting hard to bring another life into this world, that Margaret’s own life changed.
As she looked into the cherubic face of a newborn babe, something touched her soul.
’Twas love.
Love. Bliss. Happiness. Contentment. It all blended together into a massive ball that filled her heart near to bursting and made her cry uncontrollably.
Above all the ruckus of Lizabet unexpectedly giving birth to twins, Flossie shouting orders, and Annabella doing her best to encourage Lizabet, Margaret was overcome with joy.
The sudden realization that life was in fact amazing made her feel weak in the knees. Although she was crying like a baby, she couldn’t help but to smile.
Aye, birth was a messy and, if she was reading the expression on Lizabet’s face correctly, almost violent event, it was still utterly beautiful.
So lost in her beautiful realization, she hadn’t heard her husband come into the chamber. The sound of his voice startled her, breaking her quiet reverie.
“Is she well?” he asked, unable to actually look in the direction of his sister.
With teary eyes, she looked up at him, smiling from ear to ear. “Aye, she is. ’Tis just another babe she is havin’.”
“Twins?” He looked as though he might faint at the thought.
“Aye,” Margaret said as she began to gently bounce the little babe in her arms.
“What is it?” Aiden asked.
“A baby,” Margaret replied. “A beautiful, sweet baby.”
Aiden chuckled softly. “I mean is it a boy or girl?”
Truly, she didn’t have a clue and immediately felt slightly embarrassed.
“’Tis a boy!” Flossie called out with glee.
Lizabet collapsed onto her belly.
The second newborn began to wail almost as loudly as the first.
“Which one?” Margaret asked.
“They are both boys. Fine, fine boys!” Flossie replied.
’Twas then that Emery came rushing into the room, pushing past Aiden and Margaret. “Did ye say boys? ” he asked as he raced to his wife.
“Aye, Emery. Boys. There be two,” Lizabet said with a weak smile.
The poor woman was exhausted, done in.
There was no mistaking Emery’s concern for his wife. “Are ye well,” he whispered as he knelt beside her.
“I believe so,” she said. “But I am verra tired.”
Emery’s shoulders sagged ever so slightly, but there would be no immediate sense of relief. Not until he knew that his wife and sons were well.
Gently, he placed a kiss on her forehead before brushing errant strands of hair away. “Ye are beautiful,” he told her.
“Ye are a bloody liar,” Lizabet quipped with a smile. “But I ken it comes from yer heart.”
While husband and wife murmured words of love to one another, Margaret turned her attention to the babe in her arms.
“Ye need one of those,” Elayne said from the other side of the chamber.
She was, of course, referring to the babe in Margaret’s arms.
Annabella had finished washing the second babe and was wrapping him up into a yellow wool blanket. “I agree,” she told Elayne. “I think motherhood would suit Margaret well.”
Margaret ignored them and turned away, her focus solely on the little one in her arms. “Lord above, but he is beautiful,” she whispered.
Aiden touched the babe’s cheek with a tender index finger. “Aye, he is a handsome lad,” he said. A moment later, Annabella handed Aiden the other babe.
Together, they stepped into the quieter hallway, cooing over the new babes. Margaret insisted the boys were beautiful. Aiden argued they were handsome, strapping young men.
The moment of joy was taken away when Emery and Lizabet insisted they get a turn holding their sons. With much reluctance, Margaret placed the babe into Elayne’s arms, while Annabella took his brother from Aiden.
The moment the babe was out of Margaret’s arms, a cold emptiness washed over her. ’Twas all she could do not to weep and demand they hand the child back.
Aiden placed a hand on her shoulder. “Margaret, are ye well?”
Without thinking, she looked directly into his eyes and said, “I want one.”
“One what?” he asked curiously.
“A babe. I want a babe.”
Aiden chuckled and grinned. “Lass, ye are aware of how babes are made, aye?”
“Of course I ken how they are made,” she told him dismissively. She was trying to be serious.
Aiden tried to use a more earnest tone, but it wasn’t easy. In jest, he said, “But ye have told me repeatedly that ye are nae ready for that kind of intimacy.”
He knew she was growing more frustrated with him, but he simply couldn’t resist. He liked the fire that burned in her eyes when she was growing weary of his mischievousness ways.
“Are ye certain ye wish to make a babe with me?” he asked, tongue in cheek, of course.
She quirked a pretty brow. “With ye or anyone else. It matters nae to me. I want a babe.”
And with that, she left him standing in the hallway, stunned and mute.
Serves him right.
Margaret didn’t even get an opportunity to shut the bedchamber door. Aiden was fast on her heels.
“Over my dead body will ye make a babe with someone else,” he told her as he slammed the door behind him.
“Wheest,” she told him. “Ye will wake the keep!”
As he walked towards her, she walked backwards.
“If Lizabet's screams did nae wake the keep, then naught will,” he replied, as he tried to close the distance between them.
Their room was nearly pitch black. The only light came from the embers in the hearth. Margaret’s knees soon hit the edge of the bed, and she nearly fell over.
“What do ye mean ye dinnae care who ye make a babe with, as long as ye get a babe?”
Oh, she had wounded his pride. Truly, that hadn’t been her intent. She was merely being as playful as he was. Yet, truthfully, she liked the fact that he was jealous. She had to draw her lips inward to keep her smile hidden.
“Are ye, perchance, jealous?” she asked, regretting the question almost immediately.
The next thing she knew, he was standing so close to her, she could feel his breaths fall on her face. “I will kill any man who touches ye.”
For some strange reason, she enjoyed that little statement. Still, she couldn’t help herself. “If I did nae ken any better, I would say ye like me.”
His brow furrowed as he drew his lips into a hard line. Was he frustrated or angry with her? She couldn’t rightly say.
Without begging permission, he grabbed her forearms and pulled her against his chest. The next thing she knew, he was kissing her passionately.
Her body’s response surprised her as much as it frightened her. While he had kissed her once before, that kiss didn’t quite hold the heat and passion of this one.
Her breaths soon turned ragged, as if she were trying to make her way up a mountain. Her palms were damp, her legs weak, and she suddenly felt as though a family of pheasants had taken up residence inside her belly.
’Twas the most wonderful sensation.
Until he stopped.
He held her away for a moment. “Like ye?” He shook his head. “I more than like ye, lass. I have fallen in love with ye.”
The slightest movement of air could have knocked her over. Nay, she was not at all prepared for his declaration.
Over the past weeks, she had suspected that he was growing accustomed to her. Mayhap he had even begun to think of her as an ally and friend. But love?
Nay, that was the farthest thing from her mind.
Honestly, she didn’t know what to say. She could only feel the warmth of his chest a mere inches from her own. Blood rushed in her ears, muffling any other sounds that might be happening around her.
He loves me?
Nay! He cannae love me. He does nae ken me.
Nay, he does nae ken the truth about me.
A sickening feeling came over her. ’Twas her heart warning that he hadn’t fallen in love with her but with who he thought she was.
“Please,” she murmured as she tried to turn away. “Ye cannae love me.”
Aiden wasn’t about to listen to Margaret tell him what he should or shouldn’t feel, especially when it came to her. He knew his own heart, and that was all that truly mattered.
“I do love ye, lass. And there isn’t a damn thing ye can do about it, save, mayhap, for lovin’ me back.”
He watched as tears welled in her eyes. He knew she was trying to hold them at bay. Aye, he cared, for he never wanted to ever bring her an ounce of pain or despair. “Margaret, look at me,” he said as he placed his index finger on her chin. “Please.”
Reluctantly, she acquiesced to his plea.
“I love ye.”
His words broke the dam, and her tears fell without restraint. “Ye cannae love me, Aiden. Ye dinnae even ken me.”
Offering her a warm smile, he argued, “But I do ken ye, lass. I ken ye to be a kind woman with a generous spirit.”
She shook her head and choked back a sob. “That is nae the real me,” she told him.
Of course, he didn’t believe her. Wanting only to stop her tears, he said, “Is this about yer secret?”
She nodded her head several times. “It is.”
“Then tell me, lass, what this horrible secret is.”
She couldn’t. No matter how much she wanted to, she simply could not tell him the truth. To do so would be to destroy everything she had worked so hard for these past many weeks.
“I cannae tell ye, Aiden.”
“Cannae or will nae?” he challenged.
Tears began to pool, and she fought valiantly to keep them at bay. She didn’t deserve him. Not one tiny bit of him. Not after what she had done.
Doubt blended with trepidation, forming a large knot in the pit of her stomach. Her head began to pound right along with her heart. “I am sorry,” she whispered solemnly. “But please, dinnae love me. Nae now, nae ever.”
Aiden was doing his best to hold onto his temper. He wanted to shout at her that he didn’t give a damn about any secret or secrets she might have. He loved her, and by God, that should be enough.
Pushing himself to his feet, he tamped down the urge to yell at her. “Ye say ye want to have a babe with me,” he began, his voice sounding far more harsh than he wanted it to. “I dinnae care about yer secret, Margaret. I love ye, and if that is nae good enough for ye, then mayhap ye are right. Mayhap I should nae love ye.”
He took long, hurried strides for the door. “I shall sleep in the men’s solar,” he told her as he opened the door. “And I will not return until ye are ready to give me all of yourself.”
There was no chance for her to reply or to beg him to stay. A moment later, he was closing the door behind himself, leaving Margaret all alone.
“’Tis no more than ye deserve,” she muttered into the darkness. “Ye were a fool to think ye could have him.”
She collapsed onto her bed and cried. She cried and cried to the point of exhaustion. All the while, she kept reminding herself who she truly was and what she had done those many years ago.
If Aiden ever finds out… The thought sickened her. Oh, what would he think of her then? Undeniably, he would despise her, would loathe the very ground she trod upon.
He will send me away. She was convinced of it. There was no way he could love her then, not after learning the truth.
The thought of being sent away made her want to vomit. “’Tis yer own fault,” she chastised her heart. “Ye wanted somethin’ ye can never have, ye fool.”
Her mother’s voice began to creep in. It reminded her of every single misdeed, every rotten thing she had ever done.
How could I have been so foolish? Why did I think I could ignore my past?
There were no real answers to be had. Alone and bereft, she fell asleep to the sound of her mother’s voice telling her, “I told ye so, ye stupid creature! I told ye so!”
Dawn came and went, and Aiden hadn’t slept. His guilt for how he had left things with Margaret had kept him awake.
I should nae have been so angry with her, he told himself, repeatedly. I should have been more patient. I should have been more kind.
Aye, there were many things he should have done in those early morning hours. He should have wrapped her in his arms and told her that she didn’t need his forgiveness for anything she may have done before coming here.
These past months had shown him who she truly was: a good, decent woman who cared for the young, the sick, and the elderly.
He continued to toss and turn on the pallet. Nothing he did brought him any comfort nor any closer to actually sleeping.
At some point, he realized that his wife wasn’t just afraid, she was terrified. Terrified of how he might react, should he ever learn the truth.
And how had he behaved? Like a bloody fool. He’d been cruel to her, and she didn’t deserve it. She didn’t deserve his wrath or his jealousy, or whatever it was that made him behave so harshly towards her.
The realization made him feel as lowly as a flea on a dog’s foot. Lower, even.
The truth was staring him in the face, but he’d been too angry to see it. She wanted very much to fit in here, to belong to his family. And she wanted to belong to Aiden. But her fear kept her from being completely his.
And what had he done? Instead of showing her that he would be kind and considerate, he proved her fears right. Proved them right by being angry and storming off.
How on earth could she trust ye when ye acted like such a louse?
She couldn’t.
And he had no one to blame but himself.
Aiden made a solemn vow, in those early morning hours. From this point forward, he would show his wife nothing but kindness. No matter what happened, he would not lose his temper with her again. Not for any reason.
Feeling rather proud with that declaration, he couldn’t wait to share the news with her. He was about to climb out of the pallet when he realized she was probably sleeping. She had been up all night long, waiting for Lizabet to give birth.
She is probably exhausted, he told himself. And she is probably quite upset with him.
The debate between logic and heart waged on for a full hour before he gave up. If he was going to turn over a new leaf and prove anything to his wife, he should start at once.
Quietly, he pulled on his boots and slipped from the solar. In no time at all, he was standing in front of his bed chamber, gently rapping on the door.
He waited for what he believed to be an appropriate amount of time for a response. When none came, he opened the door and stepped into the darkness.
No fire burned in the hearth. The room was completely devoid of any light. Not even a candle flickered from within. With great care, he made his way through the darkness to the hearth. In short order, he had started a fire, rubbing his hands near the flames to warm them.
Next, he grabbed a candle from the mantle and lit it. He used it to look for his wife.
His heart sank when he saw her. She had fallen asleep at the end of the bed, without any blankets. In the candlelight, he could see her nose was red. He assumed ’twas from crying herself to sleep and the frigid cold air that filled the chamber.
Awash in guilt, he put the candle on the table next to the bed before he pulled back the covers. As gently as he could, he scooped her up into his arms. My sword weighs more than she does, he mused.
Margaret stirred awake, confused by his presence and the fact that he was holding her. “Aiden,” she whispered, her voice was scratchy and tired.
“Wheest, lass,” he told her before gently placing her into the bed. He pulled the blankets and furs up to her neck before placing a tender kiss on the top of her head. “Sleep.”
He came back, she thought happily. He came back.
She didn’t know if she should laugh or cry. Somehow, crying seemed easier and more appropriate. “I am sorry, Aiden,” she wept softly. “Please, dinnae hate me.”
She was glad that he had come back. Even happier that he was climbing into the bed. Joy overtook her when he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.
“I could never hate ye, lass,” he whispered. “No matter what. I will never hate ye.”
More tears fell. Ye say that now , she thought to herself. But when ye learn the truth of me, ye will change yer mind then.
“Nay, lass. I will nae change my mind,” he chuckled.
She hadn’t realized she had put her thoughts to voice.
“Now, please, no more tears. Let us sleep. Ye will feel better after a good sleep.”
Silently, she prayed he was right.
The nooning hour came and went, but neither Margaret nor Aiden were aware. They’d been too tired from the night’s events and slept until the afternoon.
Aiden woke first, with his wife right where she should be: snuggled up next to him, sleeping as peacefully as a babe in its mother’s arms.
He didn’t want to move, didn’t wish to disturb her slumber. But his bladder had other ideas.
As quietly as he was able, he slid from the bed and tended to nature’s call. The fire had died down hours before, and the room was frigid once again. Tempted as he was to simply climb back into his warm bed, he could not. He could see his wife’s breaths in the air.
But, as soon as he had the fire going, he slid back into his bed and wrapped his arms around her once again.
It felt right, holding her like this.
What would feel even more right would be to make slow, passionate love to her. To show her just how much he cared for her. To give her the babe she had asked for the night before.
How long had they been married? He tried to count the number of days and weeks. It was nearing two months now, and they had yet to consummate their marriage.
He chuckled quietly at that thought. I am livin ’ like a monk, he mused. And I must be one hell of a man of honor to wait this long. He knew many men who wouldn’t have been so patient.
His wife began to stir, burrowing herself deeper under the covers and closer to him. He sent a silent prayer up to the heavens that she wouldn’t discover just how desirable he found her.
Soon, she was stirring again and grumbled something he couldn’t quite understand. Believing she was simply talking in her sleep, he remained quiet and still. Truly, he didn’t want to have this peaceful moment end. He wanted to enjoy it for as long as he possibly could.
Just as he was beginning to nod off again, someone pounded at his chamber door. “Aiden! Come quick!”