Chapter 10
Ten
Caithren
“CAN WE SING ‘Tyrley, Tyrlow’ next?” Caithren’s youngest son asked.
Without verbally acknowledging his request, Kendra returned her hands to the harpsichord and began playing the first notes of the familiar carol.
Cait smiled. After all these years with Jason, she had come to adore Christmas with his family, even though she still missed her cousin Cameron and their own traditions during this season.
She especially loved how enthusiastic her three lads were this time of year.
Her heart seemed to swell as their voices rose in song.
“I pray you all that be here
For to sing and make good cheer
In the worship of God this year
Tyrley, tyrlow, tyrley, tyrlow, tyrley, tyrlow…”
Would the new bairn grow up to love Christmas, too? For a moment, she imagined herself at Cainewood this same day next year, holding her wee babe wrapped in the Leslie tartan she’d been saving, rocking the bairn in time to this same carol, sniffing the sweet newborn scent in its downy hair…
As a wee bit of excitement pushed through her anxiety, she smiled again.
Amy leaned close. “Have you told Jason yet?” she whispered.
Cait shook her head. Crivvens, she had to tell him. “I will,” she whispered back.
“Before supper?”
“Before supper.”
She had to find a way. And he wouldn’t be smiling.
“Ahem.”
Kendra’s fingers paused on the harpsichord’s keyboard. Everyone stopped singing and looked to Hilda, Lakefield’s elderly housekeeper. She smoothed her hands over the wide white apron that covered her yellow cotton frock.
“Supper will be served in half an hour,” she announced.
“Oh, we should all ready ourselves,” Violet said as she rose. “We can sing more carols after supper.”
“I’m ready already,” Rebecca announced, jumping up. “I’m going to check on my kitties.” She ran through the room and to the side door.
A moment later, her high-pitched voice drifted back. “Oh, it’s snowing!”
Her twin, Marcus, bolted for the door, while their older sibling and cousins followed. Feeling no need to view the snow, Caithren stayed put.
“Come.” Jason held out a hand to help her rise. “Let’s spruce up.”
She stood and trailed him up the stairs, bracing herself.
She could do this.
When they reached the bedchamber they were using, a pretty pink room that normally belonged to Rebecca, she steeled her nerves. “Jase, there’s something I need to tell you.”
“Oh, yes?” He drew her inside and into his arms, pushing the door closed behind them.
“There’s something I need to tell you.” He kissed her softly.
“I missed you all day today—I missed being alone with you.” Tenderly he brushed the hair back from her face, making a little shiver run through her.
“I cannot wait till the summer, when we can be alone for weeks and weeks. I was thinking we might ride ahead of the baggage train, just the two of us, and visit some of the places we stayed before we were married. Like the place in Stilton where we had our first kiss—”
“Actually, our first kiss was in Newark, though you don’t remember it. You were asleep.”
Jason chuckled. “Right, we’ll stop there too.” He kissed the end of her nose, a silly smile on his face. “I feel like a schoolboy looking forward to term break.”
Cait bit her lip. “I thought you never went to school.” The Civil War and its aftermath had robbed him of the chance—of all the Chase siblings, only Ford had received any education outside the home.
“How would you know how a schoolboy feels?” she asked, knowing she was blethering to delay telling him about the bairn.
“Very well, I feel like I imagine a schoolboy feels,” he returned with another little chuckle. Then he gathered her closer and kissed her again, more deeply.
Twenty-one years into their marriage, this was unexpected in the middle of the day.
Unexpected and delightful. Taking advantage, she wrapped her arms around his neck and surrendered to the moment.
As she concentrated on him—his spicy scent, his soft lips and tongue, all familiar yet endlessly exciting—her resolve seemed to fade away.
“What did you want to tell me?” he asked when he finally pulled back.
Her heart was racing.
Bloody hell, she remembered him saying, you’re not with child, are you? What a calamity that would be!
“Jase, I…”
Her courage failed her.
“I wanted to tell you I cannot breathe in this dress,” she continued with a wee forced laugh. “Will you loosen the laces a smitch?”
“But of course,” he replied with a grin, no doubt thinking she could easily do so herself.
While he removed her stomacher, he began humming the tune that went with “Tyrley, Tyrlow.” She drew a deep breath and focused on the dancing flames in the fireplace.
Maybe he would notice her pleasingly plump breasts again and ask her if she might really be with child.
Though she couldn’t find the words to tell him, it would be easier to simply confirm his suspicions.
After loosening and retying her laces, he replaced her stomacher, stripped off his shirt, splashed water on his face, and washed his hands, all while still cheerfully humming.
She watched him comb the long wavy hair she still loved even though it was now streaked with more than a few strands of silver.
Still humming.
So much for him noticing anything. He was so happy looking forward to time away together. How could she tell him that wouldn’t be happening? How could she ruin his Christmas?
She didn’t have the strength.
“I’m feeling strangely fatigued,” she said as he donned a fresh shirt. “I think I’ll lie down for a few minutes before supper.”
She’d sometimes felt fatigued during her three pregnancies. Maybe he’d remember that and ask her if she might be carrying.
He shrugged back into his surcoat. “Do you want me to stay with you?”
“Nay, go ahead. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
“As you wish,” he said, then kissed her again and left.
Dejected, she did lie down for a while, her mind racing.
She had to tell him.
She’d tell him after supper.
When a knock came at the door, she rose and opened it to find her brother-in-law Colin on the other side.
“You look lovely,” he said perfunctorily, without even looking her over.
Which was fine with her. She didn’t want anyone noticing her expanded bosom before she found the mettle to tell Jason the truth.
“Thank you,” she said just as perfunctorily. “Jason is downstairs already.”
“I’m not looking for him.” He followed her inside. “Did you bring any herbal remedies with you?”
“Of course. What’s ailing you?”
“It’s not for me. I’m hoping you might have something to help Aidan sleep.”
“Why can’t he sleep?” She crossed to the wooden case she always carried with her. “Griffin and Adam both slept like the dead at fifteen.”
“The poor lad is so worried about being shipped off as an apprentice that he’s waking with nightmares every hour.”
“Oh. I heard about this from Amy.” In the middle of opening the case’s lid, she paused to glance up at him. “Your promise.”
“Yes, my cursed promise. Which I should never have made.” He looked downright miserable. “I certainly wasn’t anticipating condemning my son to a life he’d hate when I made that promise.”
“I’m sure you weren’t. And Aidan shouldn’t be forced.” She began pulling out various vials. “It’s his life, not Amy’s.”
“Will you tell her that? Because I can talk to her till I’m blue in the face, but—”
“I’ll talk to her. I’m not sure she’ll listen, but I’ll talk. Ah, here it is. Valerian.” She uncorked a vial and grabbed a tiny drawstring bag. “You’ll need only a wee pinch,” she said, putting a bit of the ground dried root into it.
“How is Aidan supposed to take this?”
“Add it to a hot drink and give it to him before bed.” She pulled the drawstring closed. “Does he like ale?”
“What boy his age doesn’t?”
“Indeed,” she said with a little laugh. “Then put it in some warmed ale, because hops increase valerian’s effectiveness.
You could also add a little sugar and some ginger, nutmeg, and milk, to disguise the taste of the herb.
That will make him more likely to finish it. Here.” She handed him the valerian.
He sniffed at the little bag, grimaced, then opened it and sniffed again. “It smells like something died.”
Caithren chuckled. “That’s a fair enough description. And why I suggested sugar, ginger, nutmeg, and milk.”
“Sugar, ginger, nutmeg, and milk,” Colin repeated as though trying to memorize the list. “Can you give me some more? That way I won’t have to bother you about this again tomorrow night. Actually, perhaps you should give me enough for use at home afterwards, until this matter is settled?”
“Sure, I have plenty.” She uncorked the vial and dumped a little pile into the bag he held out. “Only one pinch per night, though,” she warned. “A wee pinch, or else he’ll sleep through the night and half of the next day, too.”
His eyes widened in alarm. “It won’t have any bad effects, will it? He’ll be fine once he wakes up?”
“Of course. It’s a harmless herb.” She slid him a sharp glance. “I would never suggest you give your son—my nephew—anything at all dangerous. I was just cautioning you to use it responsibly.”
“I understand, and I will.” He slipped the tiny bag into his pocket.
“The others must be waiting downstairs for us by now. Shall we go?” Closing her wooden case, she licked her lips. “I hope they’ll be serving plum pudding.”