Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Arran could scarcely contain himself as they went back downstairs to join the rest of the family for supper.
The cook must have somehow caught wind of the news, for the evening meal was a festive one. She had put together souse, fine white bread, fresh butter, buttered beans and mashed turnips, all served up with imported tea.
The slices of gelatinous souse, which was made of cooked meat scraps from the recent butchering, went well with the bread. The beans and turnips helped round out the meal.
Helena looked at the array of food and asked, “Goodness! This is nearly a feast. Is there a special occasion?”
“Och, aye, and there is!” Arran exclaimed, scarcely able to contain himself. Then, realizing that perhaps this was not his story to tell, he graciously turned to Skye. “But t’is not me story to tell. Skye?”
Skye colored up beautifully. She glanced at the younger people around the table. “I, uh, we…that is . . .”
“Ye are with child,” Ava put in. “I’ve known it these last three weeks an’ more. Ye have that glow about ye.”
Clearly relieved at not having to find words, Skye nodded. “Yes,” she said simply, her face turning an even brighter embarrassed red.
“Well, of course,” Elsie put in. “What else would ye expect from twa fine young ones? It will come out healthy and squalling, ready to challenge any and all!”
Skye covered her face with both hands, too embarrassed to reply to the fragile old woman.
Helena rose and went around the table to embrace her daughter. “That is wonderful! I agree with Elsie. No doubt there will be an heir for the two clans.”
From her place near the foot of the table, Lilias Conner sighed. Elsie, who sat just above her and nearer the salt, turned to her and asked, “What is it, dearie?”
The widow looked down at her plate. “Once I had hoped for me son to be heir to Clan McKeith. Now, I have nae inkling as to what shall become of us.”
“Hae nae fear,” Arran said. “We shall find a place for ye here wi’ us.
I doubt not that as bonnie a lass as yer daughter is, she’ll be snatched up by some lucky lad ere long.
As for yer son, every laird has need for strong, loyal men-at-arms. Or if he’s not o’er fond o’ tha fightin’, he might make a fine steward for some lands or other. ”
Skye chimed in. “Me maither an’ me, we kent sorrow and hurt enough to know how it feels. Twas no fault o’ yer own that ye caught the eye o’ Grayson Blackwell, may he be feelin’ every blow he struck his wives.”
“Skye!” Helena exclaimed, shocked at her stated wish.
“I’ll not be takin’ it back, Maither,” Skye said, lifting her chin. “He served ye shamefully, as he did his other wives. Twould not hae been long ere he served Lillias with the same.”
“Ye tell ‘em, Lassie!” old Elsie put in. “I doubt not he beat his horses an’ kicked his hounds, as well. Man like that, once he’s done a thing, he’ll keep after it until he’s stopped. Arran would hae gi’in him mercy, had he not been such a coward as to go at him after crying surrender!”
“I would hae, indeed,” Arran said. “An’ I’d gie ye a place for Skye and Helena’s sake, if for no other reason. But we make the three of ye secure, an not leave ye to the cauld winds of chance.”
“Thank ye,” Lillias said, dipping her chin down, but not before Arran saw the glimmer of tears on her cheeks.
She gathered her children, big as they were, into her arms. The yeth and maiden looked embarrassed but hugged their mother.
“Enough with all this blitherin’,” Elsie said. “Let’s eat before the food gets cold.”
After the supper was eaten, everyone went out into the garden to enjoy the last of the light. Fionn gamboled in and out of the bushes, startling the adults by leaping out at them, then dashing away.
It was all in good fun, and everyone laughed at his pranks.
Skye leaned into Arran’s shoulder. “One day, our child will play like that. He will be surrounded by people he knows and trusts, and hae nae fear o’ any.”
“Aye, that he will,” Arran said, his arm about her as he held her fondly.
“Will ye be disappointed if the bairn is a lass instead of a lad?”
“Nay. Och, perhaps a trifle. But how could I be sorry to have a bonnie lass who might grow up to look like her maither? I’ll be happy if the babe has all its fingers and toes, eats, and cries, an’ all the things baby should.”
They both watched as ten-year-old Fionn used a stick to fight off pretend foes as the shadows in the garden. Arran noticed that Magnus had edged over to stand near Helena, who seemed to have her full attention on the boy. But he thought he saw her glance at Magnus out of the corner of her eye.
Skye had noticed Magnus and her mother, as well. “Could it be that there will be another wedding?” she murmured.
“The thought hae crossed me mind,” Arran whispered back. “Best we nae appear to notice. I am sorry that our wedding had to be in such haste. Perhaps this one will make up for it.”
“Perhaps,” Skye agreed, leaning into him. “But I am happy to be here, in this garden, with family and friends about us. I can think of nothing better, Arran. Nothing better, at all.”
Arran put his arm around Skye, savoring the heat of her against his side, secure in the knowledge that they would soon retire to their own bedchamber to enjoy each other’s company.
“It is growing dark,” Helena commented.
“Aye, it is,” Magnus replied, glancing over at Arran.
Arran recognized the hint for what it was. “Come along, everyone,” he obliged the older man, “Best we should get within doors whilst we can still see our way.”
Ava fell in on the other side of Skye. “I’d like to wait upon yer lady in the morning, Laird Arran,” she said. “Will it inconvenience ye?”
Arran though of waking up with Skye beside him, and sighed regretfully. “I’ll not stand between me wife and the one who will oversee the birthin’ o’ this babe.”
Skye squeezed his arm. It almost seemed she knew what was passing through his mind. “Perhaps not too early, Ava dear. I need me rest, ye ken.”
“Oh, aye. And is it restin’ ye’ll be doin’?” Ava teased archly. Then she relented and said, “Would right after midmorning tea be late enough?”
Arran and Skye both laughed. “It should be,” Arran said. “I’ll be off to the stables to go about me rounds. But I should be back by noontide.”
“Then I’ll see ye tomorrow,” Ava said, dropping back to walk with old Elsie.
Arran walked on with Skye. “Does she ken enough to keep ye safe?” he asked anxiously. “Or should I send down to Lunnen or over to Edenborough for a physician?”
“Oh, Arran!” Skye exclaimed. “Ava is the best! The absolute best. I dinnae need some man poking and prodding at me in such a special time. Ava will take good care of me.”
Arran felt his brow wrinkle with worry. “Yer sure?”
“Sure and certain.” Skye poked him in the ribs with one finger.
“Who do ye think kept ye from dying, husband? Nelda knew the poison an’ kept ye alive till I could get ye home, and I’d done all I could to no avail.
It was Ava’s medicines that kept ye with me.
Besides, Ava is me friend. There is no one who would care more about me or the bairn. ”
“I dinnae mean to doubt her,” Arran said.
“I want the very best o’ care for ye. Should something untoward befall ye, the light would go out of me world.
I nair understood why me father seemed so lost till I married ye.
And nair shall I ken how he could go out night after night, leaving her at home to worry. ”
“An’ ye’ve kent it now?” Skye asked gently.
“I think I have. Twas clear from the letter he wrote and buried in her empty grave that he loved her near beyond life itself. I think that somehow he thought that through games of chance or perhaps even friends he made, he could make a better place for her. I can scarcely say that I knew what went through his head.”
Skye looked up at Arran, her face full of sympathy. “I am so sorry. I can see that ye cared for him. I can scarcely imagine what me life would be like without me maither. It was hard beyond measure when we lost me faither.”
“Then ye understand. He wasn’t the best in business deals, and hopeless at games of chance, but he was kind and quick to help his neighbors. Only once in me childhood did he raise his hand to me.”
Skye gave him a saucy smile. “And why was that, Laird McArthur?”
“Because I hid under the stairs from the kitchen to the servants’ quarters, hopin’ to gain a glimpse o’ what was ‘neath the maids’ skirts.
The cook caught me at it, an’ took me to Da.
Da took me down to the brook, made me cut a birch branch, then he gave me three whacks across me rump.
Afterward, he set me down an’ talked to me about respect, and honor, and how a gennelman always asked, never took when it came to the ladies. ”
“So that is why ye are different from . . . some men.”
Arran caught her hesitation, and thought he knew its cause.
Rage bubbled inside of him as he remembered the scars on Helena’s face.
But he kept his voice light as he said, “I don’t know that I’m all that different.
I appreciate the sight of a bonnie lassie as well as the next man.
But I have to tell ye, the look on me da’s face as he explained the facts of life to me, and his absolute disappointment in me.
. .well, that hurt more than the skelpin’ he gave me, which scarcely raised the dust from me troos.
So whenever I wanted a lass, I asked. And I never again hid under the stairs. ”
“Did it make it hard? To get a lass, I mean,” Skye asked.
Arran deliberately put on a wicked grin and gave her a wink. “Nary a bit. I learned real quick that if ye ask nice, then show the lass a good time, then ye’re likely to be invited back for a second or third time. Is it just possible that I might be invited into yer bed tonight, me lady wife?”
Skye giggled. Even in the dusk of the evening, Arran could see her cheeks turn pink. “Why, yes, indeed, m’lord husband, and maybe even for a fourth or fifth round. For ye do please me greatly.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Arran said gravely, offering his arm. “I was likewise pleased.”
“Oh, go on with ye,” Skye said. “But there is just one thing.”
“Oh?” Arran quirked an eyebrow at her.
Skye stopped and put her fists on her hips, a fierce glare on her face. “It’s best an’ I were the only lassie yer askin’, ye ken?”
Arran dropped his playful air. “Oh, Skye, ye are me sun, moon, and all the stars. There is no lassie in all the world can hold a candle to ye, so why would I ask anyone else? Just be aware that should any other man lay hand upon ye, I’ll serve the murthurin’ son as I did Blackwell, and he’ll nair touch ye again. ”
Skye tucked her hand back into his elbow. “Good to know,” she said. “Although I think in most cases ye could just glare at him or knock him down with yer fists. Blackwell was a special case.”
“He was somethin’,” Arran said, as they walked up the steps into their home. “It’s good to know that I’ll not be called upon to slay every man who appreciates yer beauty, for that is likely to be every man jack we meet.”
“Flatterer!” she teased.
“Not at all,” Arran said. “Ye are looking especially lovely tonight. I think walking in the gloaming agrees with ye.”
“It seems to agree with ye, also, Arran Gilroy. This would appear to be our bedroom door.”
“Then let us go in and celebrate yer beauty, our marriage, and our future.”
“That seems an excellent idea,” Skye agreed.
Arran held the door open for her, then followed her in, closing it firmly behind them. Then they gave each other a night to top all nights that came before it, but not one to exceed nights yet to come. For practice makes perfect, and they had every intent to practice well and often.