Chapter 13
Daemon could still feel himself blinking with amazement as they exited the small cottage. What he’d seen didn’t seem possible, and the knowledge that women went through such trouble and pain to bring forth new life was awe-inspiring.
He wasn’t expecting Lyla to suddenly droop against his arm. Concerned, he wrapped his other arm around her shoulders, and felt her trembling. Concern changed to alarm in a heartbeat. “Are ye all right?”
Lyla sighed. She looked worlds wearier, even as she smiled shakily up at him. “Och, I’m nae hurt or anything. ‘Tis only a delayed reaction.”
“Reaction?” He didn’t understand, but he wanted to.
“Aye. I was terrified I’d make a mistake, helping with the birthing. Two bairns is nae a lot o’ experience, ye ken, and I’ve never aided a birth without a proper midwife on hand tae direct me. But I couldnae let the mother see how worried I was, fer it would only have upset her, and ye want the mother calm as possible during the birth. Fear or worry can make the birth harder and more dangerous.”
Daemon nodded. He was familiar with the reasoning, and the feeling, though in a very different context.
Giving birth – it was like battle, in a way. It didn’t matter how terrified you were when faced with your opponents running toward you. You had to move and you had to fight, and there was no time for thinking of fear, unless you wanted to put your own life and that of your comrades in danger.
Giving birth, or aiding with one, was like going into combat against nature and the fates, for the life of the newborn and the mother. It was a fight against all that could go wrong – in some ways even more terrifying than a fight against flesh and blood opponents.
Daemon felt his respect for Lyla increase. He’d already known she was wise and brave, but she was stronger and steadier than he’d ever imagined she could be. He tightened his embrace, offering her what comfort he could. “Ye did well.”
“I did as well as I might, but ‘twas luck the birth was an easy one.”
Daemon stared at her. “That was an easy birth?” It had been nerve-wracking, and more than once he’d wished he were several candle-marks ride away.
Lyla looked up at him with surprise in her face, as if it was obvious that the birth hadn’t been too difficult. “The babe was turned properly and nae too large, and the mother was healthy. She wasnae in labor fer too long, only a few hours, and naething tore. Save fer the babe being early, it couldnae have been much smoother.”
The idea that it could be worse was a daunting one. He shivered himself. “Just when I think I’ve a measure o’ ye, ye surprise me with how brave ye are.”
Lyla laughed, her voice still weak. “Och, I’m nae brave, Daemon. I was terrified, and I’m nae certain I could have managed tae hold meself taegether if ye hadnae been there.”
Daemon didn’t think he’d done anything in particular, but he was glad he’d been able to help. Still, he could see she was tired, practically wilting in his arms. Not that he felt much better, after observing the whole ordeal of childbirth. I am blessed fer being born a man.
He led her to their horses and helped her mount, then mounted himself, and both of them headed back to MacMillan Keep.
By the time they reached the gates, it was after nightfall, and he felt like he’d been awake for days. Lyla looked as if she’d been awake for a seven-day. And the day still wasn’t over, because Ryan and Cai were both waiting for them, concern on their faces.
Cai was the first to speak as they dismounted and sent their horses to the stables. “Me laird? Are ye and Lady Lyla all right?”
“Only wearied. We’ve just given birth, and need tae rest.” It was only when he saw the look his two friends exchanged that Daemon realized how he’d worded the statement, and how it could be taken. He bit the inside of his cheek, uncertain of what to say. His thoughts felt like they were full of fog.
Lyla rescued him. “What he means tae say is that we happened across a woman giving birth without the aid o’ husband or midwife, and stopped tae give her aid. I’ve assisted in childbirth afore, and any help is better than none in such circumstances.”
Both men relaxed. “I see. We were becoming concerned when ye didnae return fer the evening meal.”
“We couldnae leave afore we kent the babe and mother would be well. And even so, I’ll want a runner tae take some medicines from the healer, tae help the mother recover.” Lyla said.
Cai nodded. “Give me the name and the location, and I’ll see it done. In the meantime, ye and Laird Daemon can get some rest.”
Lyla gave him the information and then, after giving Daemon a weary smile, vanished inside.
Daemon made his own excuses and escaped to his chambers, but his mind refused to quiet. He kept thinking of everything Rose had endured giving birth, and everything Lyla had done to aid her. He’d never thought about everything that went into bringing new life into the world.
Men and women went to bed together, the woman swelled with child, and a few months later, a babe was born. That was all he’d ever thought of the matter. Nothing about how dangerous childbirth could be, or how difficult a midwife’s job was. Now that he knew the truth, he couldn’t stop thinking that women truly didn’t receive enough respect and recognition for the pains they went through.
The thoughts kept him awake until dawn, when Daemon finally gave up the battle for sleep and rose. He splashed some water on his face to wipe away the weariness he felt, dressed, and went to his study, an idea on his mind.
Cai found him there a few hours later. His advisor eyed the list he’d made with trepidation. “Is that a battle plan o’ some sort?”
Daemon shook his head. “Nay. ‘Fer a feast day I want tae have, honoring women.” He paused. “I was thinking tae make it mothers and women with child and about tae be maithers, but I changed me mind. We should invite all women, tae celebrate their survival and everything they dae in becoming mothers.”
Cai stared at him. “What’s wrong with ye? Did ye hit yer head?”
Daemon frowned. “I didnae. Why are ye asking?”
“Because ye’re talking strange. I’ve nae objections tae respecting women, but honoring them fer childbirth? ‘Tis nae like they’re going tae war.” Cai’s brow furrowed.
“Ye’d nae think that if ye’d ever seen a child being born, as I did yesterday.” Daemon shuddered at the memory. “From two hours after the midday meal tae just under a candle-mark afore we returned, the mother was in labor, and gods help me, it sounded like she was being kicked tae death by wild horses. I thought she was having seizures. She kept going rigid and screaming so loud I thought she was dying. And the blood – more blood than ever I’ve seen off a battlefield. ‘Twas terrifying. All o’ that tae bring a babe scarce larger than me hands intae the world. And Lyla tells me ‘twas an easy birth.”
“Ye cannae be serious.” Cai sounded appalled, and Daemon didn’t blame him. Aside from the servants, there was only one unmarried woman in the castle, Alyn. Rowan had died before getting pregnant and neither of them had siblings, so the two men had never been around a birthing woman.
Daemon met his friend’s eyes. “As serious as the threat o’ feud with Ranald clan.”
Cai grimaced. “If that’s the case, then I can understand yer wanting tae celebrate women surviving such an ordeal. But, if ye want tae plan something fer women, then ye’ll need tae get aid from a woman.”
That was an excellent point. Daemon frowned. “I was going tae ask Lyla, but she’s fair wearied from yesterday…”
“Alyn can help ye. More, I think she’d welcome a chance tae dae something. There’s nae much she can dae fer battle planning or war preparations, and I ken from Ryan that she’s been a wee bit disheartened about the matter. Giving her a feast tae plan, one honoring women at that, will make her feel happy and useful.”
He hadn’t realized his cousin felt so disheartened. Daemon frowned. “I didnae ken... by all means, we should get Alyn’s help fer this.”
They found Alyn in the Great Hall, finishing her breakfast. Daemon sat down beside her. “Alyn, I’m needing yer assistance with something, if ye’ve time.” He laid out his idea for her, and watched her bite her lip in contemplation. “Dae ye think ye can manage something?”
“Aye, if ye have something like a ceillidh. We cannae arrange anything else without waiting several days, and ye cannae say that we’ve that sort o’ time.” Alyn indicated the plans. “We can have the cooks make a feast and have a gathering here in the Great Hall. We could send the servants tae announce it tae the nearby villages. Then, if ye want tae continue this next year, we can make more involved plans.”
Daemon couldn’t imagine that he’d forget the sight he’d seen any time soon. “I think we should plan on it being a yearly thing.”
“As ye will.” Alyn smiled as she rose from her chair. “Ye ken, cousin, ye’ve changed in the past few days. Lyla’s presence has a positive effect on ye.” She was gone before he could respond.
Cai was watching him, and Daemon scowled, discomfited by the knowing look on his friend’s face. “What are ye thinking now?”
“That Alyn’s right about ye. Ye’ve been different these past days, and it seems tae be mostly due tae Lyla’s influence.” Cai’s expression turned more somber. “Ye like the lass, more than ye seem willing tae admit.”
“That’s nae true.” Daemon shook his head in denial.
Cai sighed. “As ye will. I’ve duties tae be seeing tae.” He turned and strode away and while Daemon watched him go, unease filled him.
Cai was perceptive, and one of the few people in the world who would tell him brutal truths without flinching. And this wasn’t the first time he’d suggested that Daemon was changing because of Lyla or hinted that it looked like Daemon was developing an interest in the youngest MacDougall.
Daemon shook his head. Cai couldn’t be right. He couldn’t be falling in love with, or even forming an attachment to, Lyla MacDougall. It was unacceptable for a number of reasons, not the least of which was that his previous wife had been her sister.
Cai had to have mistaken his kindness toward Lyla – and his respect for her, now that he knew of her hidden depths - as part of something deeper. It was the only reasonable explanation. And yet, in the deepest part of his heart, he feared that his friend might be correct.
* * *
Lyla wandered out into the courtyard after she’d slept in and had a late breakfast in her rooms. Now she was enjoying the fresh air and watching the warriors train. She still remembered the decision she’d made the day before, to learn how to fight, or at least defend herself. She didn’t want to be defenseless.
She’d hoped Daemon would be in the training yard, but he wasn’t there. Instead, Ryan was leading the training session. He was overseeing several sparring matches, along with fighting his own opponents. He’d clearly been working for a while, because he’d removed his shirt, and his chest was gleaming with sweat.
Lyla blushed, embarrassed by the sight of his well-toned abdomen and defined muscles. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen a man bare-chested, but it was different now. She couldn’t say why, only that it was true. Perhaps because now, she had the scenes from her nighttime reading in her mind.
Ryan was handsome, but seeing him partially undressed only made her feel flustered, like a maiden. It didn’t spark her interest. Instead, she found herself wondering how Daemon would look without a shirt on. He was taller than Ryan, but equally well-built, with broad shoulders and a strong, sturdy chest. She’d felt enough of his muscles through his shirt when trapped in the closet with him to know they were well-defined and powerful.
Lyla felt her cheeks burn as she realized what she was thinking. She shook her head quickly, trying to banish the image in her mind, of Daemon in naught but a kilt.
“Lyla?” She looked up to see Ryan approaching. “Is there something ye need?”
She steeled her resolve and nodded. “Aye. I was looking tae learn something o’ defending meself. With my sister being caught up in a feud, I’m thinking that ‘tis a good idea tae be able tae fight back if someone tries tae kidnap me again.”
Ryan smirked. “Aye. There’s a good idea.” He glanced at her dress. “I dinnae think ye’ll want tae be training in that outfit though, lass.”
Lyla blushed. “Och, nae. I dinnae want tae join the training ye’re doing now. I’d be far too embarrassed. I was thinking o’ asking ye tae teach me one tae one, mayhap in the early mornings or evenings.”
Ryan’s grin widened. “If that’s what ye want…”
“I’ll teach her.” A familiar voice interrupted, and Lyla turned to see Daemon striding toward them, Cai a step behind him, his expression set like a stone mask. “Ye’ve yer duties preparing tae march fer MacLean, in any case.”
Ryan nodded and said smiling. “Aye. As ye say, me laird.”
Daemon turned to face her. One eyebrow rose. “Ye didnae mention yesterday that ye were planning tae take lessons with Ryan.”
Lyla blinked at the undercurrent of sharpness in his voice. “I didnae ken who I was going tae ask yesterday. And I didnae see why I shouldnae ask Ryan. He’s yer war leader, and a braw fighter, and ‘tis clear he can teach.” She pointed at the training yard.
“Nevertheless, I’ll be the one tae train ye.” Daemon’s voice was firm, and suggested that she shouldn’t argue. Lyla frowned, but nodded her acceptance.
Daemon glanced at the training yard, then back to her. “If ye want tae train one tae one, then best tae wait till the training yard isnae in use. Meet me here, three candle-marks after evening meal, and we’ll start yer lessons. I’ll send around the things ye need tae wear in order tae be comfortable.”
“I was thinking tae wear an old skirt and blouse.”
Daemon shook his head. “For beginning, ‘tis best ye wear clothing suited tae the exercise. Ye dinnae want yer skirts getting in the way, and ye’ll need other things.”
For a moment, she didn’t understand. Then she recalled how Erin usually dressed. Clothing practical for fighting, such as a shirt with close sleeves and a looser bodice, and skirts that were either kilt length or cut for easier movement. And a chest wrap. She blushed. “I take yer point. Might yer healer have the undergarments I need?”
Daemon nodded. “She should. If nae, I can send a lad tae the village tae find something suitable.”
Lyla felt her cheeks burning at the idea of Daemon – or any man – searching out undergarments such as chest wraps for her. “There’s nae need. I’ll see tae that meself. ‘Tis easier fer me tae judge the size correctly if I acquire me own clothing.”
“As ye will.” Daemon agreed easily, and from the slight darkening of his cheeks, she thought he might have realized the same thing she did. “I’ll see ye at evening meal. Fer now, I’ve duties tae attend tae, so if ye’ll excuse me.” He started to turn away, then stopped. “Och, I near forgot why I was looking fer ye.”
To her surprise, his face darkened again. “After yesterday... I’ve decided tae have a feast and dance tae honor women, especially maithers. I’ve asked Alyn tae make arrangements, but I’d be grateful if ye’d assist her.”
Lyla smiled. “O’ course. I’d be happy tae. It sounds like an excellent idea.” Even better, it gave her something productive to do, instead of trying to while away the hours in boredom while others were working. “Dae ye ken where Alyn is?”
“She was heading tae the kitchens, when last I saw her.”
“Then I’ll join her, and we’ll make whatever plans are needed.” Lyla dipped her head to the three men, then left.
Organizing a feast and dancing to honor women sounded like a lovely idea, and she was looking forward to helping Alyn with the project. But first, she needed to see the healer about appropriate clothing for her lessons in self-defense.