Epilogue #2
He couldn’t lose her. Well, she had to be well.
They were to leave, start a fresh time they both yearned for at Clan MacCade.
Years he was to be at her side, and she at his.
No. No. No! This could not be happening!
She has to be well! His hand ruffled the hairs upon his scalp till his fingers numbed.
The door re-opened as the stone-faced physician emerged. “The lady still has not yet roused. I believe ’tis best to have the barber surgeon bleed her, or would you rather let her rest a wee bit before the measure is taken? Nae fever is present nor mark on her flesh declaring disease.”
Never would he see her bleed. “I shall sit with her a wee bit.”
“Aye.” The physician nodded. “I shall fetch the chamberlain to remain outside the door if you have need to summon me.”
The king gave one final look after he glimpsed the sight of Keirah lying on the bed, her hands folded neatly over her gowned waist, before he turned toward him. “I will have the Lord Chancellor take to the chapel in prayer for her, as shall I.”
Giving a solemn nod, Aonghus re-entered the chamber, shut the door behind him, and claimed a seat beside the bed.
“A joyful day,” he whispered, taking her hand. The next question broke in agony: “Cluaran, what has captured you?”
His breath, rasped by fear, echoed through the chamber.
Could it be a glance? The physician did not know about her instinct in senses.
No one did other than those on the inner circle from Largs.
Was this some sort of odd cost in measure that had been delayed?
Never did they think it even possible she would have kept the ability of fate-seer after consummation.
The largest change since then had been a bright find when headaches as the cost of measure had faded after the current glances.
Was it possible all those lessened measures had been bottled up to be unleashed in a dire event like this?
For a moment his eyes strayed toward the arrow slit when movement caught his attention.
What was that? He narrowed his eyes; little white snowflakes fluttered through the opening.
No, it was too warm for snow. One landed onto his chainmail-clad forearm, small and white and fluffy.
How odd. It was a dandelion seed, not a snowflake.
Strange; there weren’t any dandelions near the castle nor keep…
yet…His eyes went from narrow to wide at the newfound sight.
There were thousands of them! He had not seen so many float the air since…since the time in the secluded meadow near Castle MacCade which he and Keirah had strolled through on their last lazy afternoon before returning here.
He would have grinned if not for the circumstance facing them.
It was the moment when a stiff gust had blown all the fluffy seeds into the sky like feathers dancing about, just as they were doing now doing in this chamber.
A time when his lady had twirled with her arms wide and carefree.
Her face was bright as the sun overhead had been that day.
His desire had overwhelmed his propriety; they had made love in that meadow – twice.
Looking down at Keirah, his eyes narrowed.
A…a smile graced her lips, as the room filled with more feathery dancers about them, gracing the chamber in almost a wave-like pattern of the sea.
A night-glance, it has to be. However, his brow furrowed when he glimpsed the sun’s rays illuminating the gifts from nature looming about; it was not night but day. Odd. What the hell was happening?!
After her lashes fluttered, he dove closer. “Cluaran?”
Her fingers tightened on him. She was awakening! His heart began slowing from racing like a charging bull.
“Aonghus,” she whispered, meeting his eyes, “I have seen the purpose we shall not be present at the signing of the treaty.”
His heart pounded again. “Why?”
Any fear ripping his soul lessened as her face broke into a tender smile at him.
“You are to be a sire.” She rubbed his hand resting over her tummy.
“’Twas a night-glance so powerful in calling it would not keep till I laid to sleep or the late hour this eve.
The meadow we claimed one another in had to be the moment; I am with bairn.
I have seen us in that same meadow, years ahead, you running with our laddie on your shoulders while I cradle another younger wee lass to my breast. This time shall take place during the treaty signing.
We do not journey here as we are tending our very wee ones there.
” Emotion washed through her eyes like she had just seen the spring after centuries of frost.
His other palm grazed over her stomach as he sighed the name with an etching in his soul. “Keirah.”
Her second hand covered his. “Aye, oh, my knight, we look so joyous. They are bonny and tender and loved.” Her smile, warm as the dawn, beamed at him.
He lowered his head, then kissed her tummy as her fingers stroked his hair. “’Tis our fate; shall we commence upon our journey there?”
Raising up, he whispered the words upon her lips: “Absolutely, my Scottish Cluaran.”