Chapter 4
Four
Caithren
Later that morning
Cainewood Castle
THE MARCHIONESS of Cainewood was finding her bodice unusually tight. Had she been eating too much of late? Caithren frowned down at the strained fabric as her maid loosened the lacing a wee bit and tied a firm bow.
“I’d like to discuss something before we leave,” her husband said.
“Oh, aye?” It sounded important. “I can finish here, Ida,” she told her maid. “Please make sure my trunks made it onto one of the baggage carts.”
As the young woman left, Jason dismissed his valet as well.
“Do I look plump in this gown?” Cait asked when the two of them were alone.
Jason was busy pulling on his boots. “Of course not,” he said. “You look lovely.”
It took everything Cait had not to snort. “Don’t look up. What color is my gown?”
“Blue?” he guessed.
“Green. Christmas green. You can look up now.”
He did. And grinned. “You do look lovely. Since Ida left, would you like some help with that stomacher?”
“After twenty-one years in England, I reckon I’ve mastered English clothes. But you can help if it makes you happy.”
“It does.” He rose and stood behind her, reaching around her to fasten the tabs. “Twenty-one years,” he echoed, his breath warm by her cheek. “Unbelievable, isn’t it?”
She nodded. “It’s gone so fast. I don’t feel any older, but the lads are all but grown.” Griffin was twenty, Adam seventeen, and their youngest, James, had turned fourteen over the summer.
Cait remembered the day James was born like yesterday: the entire family cramming into her bedchamber to meet him, Kendra bringing a gift of Leslie tartan to wrap him in.
Cait still had that precious blanket, and she couldn’t help sniffing it once in a while, imagining she could smell Jamie’s sweet newborn scent.
Someday she would wrap a grandchild in that tartan.
Considering how quickly the years were speeding by, she feared that day could come alarmingly soon.
“What did you want to talk about?” she asked.
Thankfully the stomacher hid the fact that her bodice was too tight.
Jason turned her to face him and gave her a light kiss.
“Twenty-one years,” he murmured again against her lips, “and nearly twenty years since we’ve gone anywhere alone together.
” He pulled back. “As we’ve readied for this short journey, I’ve been aware of how much trouble it always is to travel with all five of us.
How many carriages we need, how many servants, how much baggage.
Wouldn’t it be pleasant to go somewhere on our own?
Next summer, perhaps, we could visit your cousin in Scotland. ”
“And leave the lads behind? We’ve never left the lads.”
“My point exactly, sweet. Don’t you think it’s about time? Jamie will be fifteen by then, and Griffin will have graduated from Oxford. We could leave Griffin here to play marquess for a few weeks, and take Adam and Jamie to stay at Greystone.”
Caithren tilted her head to one side, considering. “I daresay Griffin could manage on his own for a bit…”
“Indeed, and therefore we could be on our own. Alone, Cait, just the two of us…doesn’t that sound delightful? Remember our courtship on the road?”
She couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Oh, aye. I remember being at each other’s throats much of the time.”
He grinned, then cupped her face and brushed a thumb across her cheek. “Our first journey to Scotland wasn’t like that,” he reminded her in a low, meaningful tone.
Something fluttered in her stomach. “Aye, that journey was wonderful,” she agreed, remembering their last holiday without bairns.
All in all, it had been marvelous. The one black mark on the lovely memory was that she’d decided to keep her first pregnancy from him, for fear he might cancel their plans.
He hadn’t been happy about that. But she and the babe had been fine, and she’d promised to never hide news like that again, and he’d forgiven her.
As fast as the years had sped by, it seemed forever since she and Jason had gone anywhere without all the complications that went with three offspring, as he’d said. It seemed a lifetime since they’d traveled that carefree, since they’d done anything just to please themselves—and each other.
“Very well,” she finally said. “I suppose the lads are old enough to spend a month or so without us next summer.”
“Excellent! I cannot wait. You’ll see, Cait, this will be a brand-new chapter for us.” He caught her up in another kiss—a kiss that made her wish they didn’t have to leave so soon for his brother’s house.
Or wait till next summer to journey alone together.
When he finally pulled away, he eyed her cleavage displayed in the tight gown. “Hmm…” he murmured, bending to kiss her there, too. “You’re as slim as ever, and you know it—not plump in the least—but I will say these look pleasingly plump in this gown. Is it new?”
She laughed again. He never noticed her clothes, which meant she could order any that she wanted.
“Yes, it’s new for the holidays. Perhaps Mrs. Bletchley wrote down the wrong measurements.
” She frowned down at herself—her smallish breasts did look exceedingly plump framed in the neckline.
“The rest of my new gowns are already packed. Perhaps I should wear an old one that fits me better.”
“Don’t be daft. I said you look lovely, and I meant it.”
“Very well, I’ll wear it, but mostly to avoid delaying our departure. I’m so looking forward to Christmas—I can already taste the plum pudding.”
“You can?” he asked, turning away to grab his surcoat. “I thought you didn’t like plum pudding.” He swiveled back, alarm on his face. “Bloody hell, you’re not with child, are you? What a calamity that would be!”
“Crivvens, of course not!” Her heart pounded at the mere thought.
“I’m forty-three! Jamie’s fourteen years old!
Why would you say such a thing?” She glanced down again at her pleasingly plump breasts.
If Mrs. Bletchley had measured correctly, she must have gained weight in the meantime.
“By all the saints, I must stop eating so much!”
“You’re not eating too much. But I’ve never seen you eat plum pudding—except the three Christmases you were with child.”
They both stayed silent while Cait’s mind raced. She usually did choose another sweet in place of plum pudding—he’d been right to say she hadn’t ever really liked it. How much time had passed since her last monthly course? She couldn’t think straight enough to recall. But swelling breasts…
And plum pudding…
Perhaps reacting to the look of horror she suspected was on her face, Jason broke the tension with a chuckle. “I was jesting, love,” he said. “After all these years, of course you’re not with child. Why should that happen now?”
She swallowed hard. “Maybe because we often do the thing that makes children happen?”
“Fourteen years, Cait. No children and no miscarriages. I think God has sent a clear message that our family is complete. Eat all the plum pudding you want. Now that you’ve learned how to master English clothes, it’s about time you learned to enjoy English food.”
Maybe he was right, she thought, her heart calming a little. Maybe she craved plum pudding because she was finally learning to enjoy English food, and maybe that’s why she’d gained weight, too. Or maybe the blasted dress was just too tight—maybe Mrs. Bletchley had mismeasured.
She couldn’t be with child.
Could she?