Chapter 27
Chapter Twenty-Seven
brIGID
“Iought to delegate the trip to someone else," Torion muttered, scowling behind the large desk he used so rarely.
"You don't trust anyone well enough," I said, smiling at his resulting pout. "I thought you said you'd be back the same evening?"
"I will," he said roughly. "Seamus won't drag the business out. I could send for him to come here instead. He'd understand if—"
"I'm not ready for others to know, Torion," I said gently, rounding his desk and trying to contain my laugh as he snatched me up and put me in his lap like he was getting away with something. Being nestled against him was precisely my aim in walking over, silly man.
Torion grunted. "Much as I'd like to crow the news from the rooftops, I feel the same. But I don't like leaving you on your own."
"Hardly on my own, unless you plan on taking everyone in the keep with you," I said easily. Torion didn't spare my teasing a thought, his frown still firmly fixed in place. "Tell me what has you so disturbed. It's only a few hours."
His gaze skittered away in an intriguing display of wariness or shame, and I caught his chin in my hand, stroking the bristle along his jaw with my thumb.
"I don't want you to take this as a slight to your competence or…independence," he said slowly. My eyebrows rose in interest, and perhaps a little expectant offense. "I recently swore to myself that I'd be firmly attached to your hip and not leave you for so much as a moment."
I snorted at that. "How could you have managed that if I went back to the cottage?" His eyes lifted to my face finally, expression dry, and I froze. "Were you planning on coming with me? You barely fit in the cottage! It would've driven me mad in a week, and we'd have to come right back—"
My tongue stilled as Torion's cheeks warmed with color.
"Very clever," I admitted, pardoning his schemes by stroking my fingers into the tangled curls at the back of his neck.
"I know you fend for yourself very well. I just despise the causes of that necessity," Torion said.
It had been a scant week since I'd unburdened myself, spilling out my fears and hopes and secrets to Torion.
He hadn't changed in that time, although it took me a day or so to realize that this version of Torion—devotedly attentive, a stable figure for me to prop myself up against—had been the man he'd offered me from the very beginning.
I was only just now learning how it felt to allow him to provide that to me.
It was wonderful.
Terrifying, a shrinking part of me corrected but was promptly swatted away.
I was learning how to put away the frightened part of myself. I might not trust Torion completely yet, but I was endeavoring to stop myself from actively distrusting him. Perhaps they were one in the same.
"You know I'll be all right for the day," I said gently, my fingers picking through the tangles I found.
"I do," Torion admitted with a sigh.
"You're not breaking your vow to yourself or to me," I continued.
"I knew you would be like this," Torion said, smiling slightly.
"Like what?"
"Eminently reasonable. You are the better part of me, little witch."
I rewarded that compliment—and the bubbling warmth it conjured in my chest—with a sipping kiss. "You should take someone with you."
"Worried for my safety?" Torion asked, looking absurdly pleased.
"Not particularly," I admitted, grinning. I was teasing him, but it was true. I had a difficult time imagining Torion coming into any danger. He was too commanding and strong in my eyes. "But I think you should start to curry favor with men you like."
"As a matter of fact, I did invite Cameron. He and Emily Anderson are expanding her shipping interests, and I think Seamus will like him."
I nodded. "He's a good choice. Although I recommend in the next instance you consider a gentleman who’s been established longer, but on the fringes of the usual cohort."
Torion nodded at that, his head tipping into my fingers that rubbed at the back of his skull. "Tell me who you'd recommend."
"Ben Danielson might do," I said.
"He's fairly mild mannered. I've rarely had cause to meet with him. Gave me some trouble at the meeting, but I feel as though Keane put a bug in his ear," Torion mused.
"Danielson had a daughter that chose her beta this past ceremony, and he settled a good sum on the couple, so we know he's not as obstinate as some.
He keeps his estates and the near village in good order.
He might be resistant to politicking, but if you ever wanted counsel, I think he would take it as an honor. "
Torion was smiling at me, gaze heavy lidded and warm. "I'll make a point to approach him soon. Thank you, Brigid."
My head spun. No man I'd ever known in my life—intimately or on bare acquaintance—would ever have been lenient enough to even let me voice my opinion on such a topic, let alone be pleased with me for doing so.
And I'd been comparing Torion to them this entire time, waiting for him to transform into what I expected to find.
I owe you an apology, I thought. But instead of saying so, I kissed him, lingering this time, delighted as he seemed content to do the same.
I pulled away to suggest we take ourselves to the bedroom, or at least make new use of his desk, but Torion spoke first.
"I think if I had no other counsel but yours, I would be as well off as I could be. But since there is strength in numbers, who else do you recommend I court?"
I grinned, settling myself more comfortably in my alpha's lap, and shared my observations without reserve.
Torion left before dawn the next morning, and I had a hazy memory of his lips kissing almost chastely up my spine before whispering his goodbye in my ear.
I woke with sunlight streaming over my bare back and a smile on my lips.
I opened my eyes to the sight of my tea steaming, little dust motes sparkling in the air, the scent of lemon and ginger a fresh greeting to the morning.
I caught Torion's pillow, the indentation from his head still in place, and drew it to me, breathing his cinnamon ash scent in as deeply as I could.
I knew what was happening, the way my chest felt effervescent and light enough to float away, even as it grew dense and full and heavy.
The nervous expectation was icy with fear, and yet exhilarating too.
I groaned into Torion's pillow and tried to find a calming center once more.
I would work in my office today, the beautiful space Torion had built for me, and it would help settle some of the flurry of feeling.
I had made a vow to myself not to push those feelings away, but dwelling in them too much made anxieties stack just as high as hopes.
I sat up in the bed, shoving my many gathered pillows and blankets aside, scooting back and preparing to throw myself out of the nest and into the day, when the sight of a few marks of dull reddish brown on the white sheets froze me in place.
A small cry quaked out from my barely parted lips, and my eyes shut on the sight as I tried to find my breath.
The old nurse in the village near Malcolm's estate had assured me it was a common symptom for early pregnancy, that it was as likely to amount to nothing as it might signal any concerns.
My mother's notes had said much the same, offering some recommendations of rest and certain teas if there were any other hints of trouble, like a pinching cramp.
I'd hid my worry and my old sorrow and offered the women who'd come to me with their own worries over blood spotting false words of comfort and patience.
But I'd spotted with my first pregnancy, and that spotting had turned to cramping and bleeding and a day spent in bed weeping as I suffered through the physical loss of a gift I'd barely been able to cherish.
Torion's name was on the tip of my tongue, a ready plea for him that horrified me. I wanted his hand in mine, wanted to feed him the same words of comfort I'd given others, so that he might return them to me with all his ready confidence.
My fingers reached down to the spots of blood but stopped short, settling instead on the shining white scar at my inner thigh—the absurd bite mark Torion had left on me in a downright scandalous moment of lust and possession.
I'd never properly given him a scolding for biting me.
I couldn't. There was something about the mark that I…
liked. Cherished. I should've thought of it as violent, but it felt more like a promise.
My lips quirked and wobbled. He would be so upset when he returned and discovered my distress.
The thought comforted me, as did touching his mark on me.
A knock sounded on the door, and I jerked, throwing the blankets back over me, trying to wipe terror from my face. It was Maggie rather than my usual maid who entered.
"Beg pardon, milady, I have just a few questions for you regarding—Oh my, you're pale, lovey! What's the matter?"
Maggie tucked her little notebook into an apron pocket and marched toward the bed, and I made a subtle fuss to be sure there were no signs of my distress or its cause visible. Maggie's slightly gnarled hand rose to my forehead as she tutted.
"Not feverish," she said, and for some reason the declaration soothed me.
"Just tired and still awaking," I said, swallowing hard around my tremulous voice and twisting away from Maggie's touch to take up my tea.
Maggie hummed and stepped back, looking me over. "Well, if that's all…" she said slowly, but when I managed a closed lip smile she rattled off her queries, mainly about meals and if she could hire a new boy for the kitchens and what room I would like the renovations to focus on next.
"All of that sounds very good," I said, after deferring to Maggie's first choices.
Her eyes narrowed and I hurried on, not thinking, just not wanting Maggie to examine my mood too closely.
"Could you have my breakfast sent up on a tray?
And a bath and…bring me my notebook from my workroom and maybe a book to read? "
Maggie blinked at this. "I certainly can. You're not feeling well, are you?"
"I'm not poorly, I promise. But with the alpha gone for the day and you in charge, I feel safe in taking the time to rest. Even to…be a bit lazy."
Maggie's lips pursed, and then she smiled, and it was too kind and tender. She rested a hand over my bent knee and rubbed there through the blankets. Maggie had a number of sons and grandchildren, and I knew in that moment that she saw right through me.
"Of course, milady. And don't you deserve a laze. I'll have all that sent up straight away."
"Thank you, Maggie," I rasped out, staring down into my lap to hide my watery eyes.
And truth be told, Maggie was likely right, because the morning spent in bed seemed to restore some of my equilibrium.
There was no more spotting of blood, and no cramping, and I spent a couple hours untangling a collection of notes about the uses for juniper, while the background of my thoughts ran on one stern refrain.
I was not going to lose this child. If it took every tea and every tonic in my mother's and my arsenals, every old wives’ tale and superstition, and every doctor from here to Skybern, I would hold tight to this life Torion and I had created.
I would dig out the old temples for the ancient dragons and fill them to the rafters with precious stones and gold and any manner of tokens of plea.
Well…perhaps that was going a little far. Digging was probably not wise under the current circumstances.
But if that was what it took, by Tylane's tail, I would do it.
It was after luncheon when I realized that sitting in one place all day doing as little as possible didn't really suit my nature.
And since I felt well enough, and a little silly for my initial panic, I roused myself from bed and dressed, just in time to hear a flurry of activity from the great hall.
I made it as far as the inner balcony, seeing only the back of a dragon's wings that I thought might've been Samuel Cameron’s, when a young boy ran to me.
"What's happened?"
"A challenge on Bleake Isle, milady. The alpha's gone to give them support," the boy said in a breathless rush.
I stood straighter, throwing myself to the edge of the balcony. "Beta Cameron!" I cried out, relieved when the young man who'd nearly reached the door turned and met my gaze. "Is Alpha de Roche with Torion?"
Cameron nodded. "Yes, Omega Feargus. And I mean to go join them. I would've from the start, but Alpha Feargus insisted I give you word, in case matters kept him longer than predicted."
A pang in my chest burned sweetly. "Thank you." I bit my lip as Cameron turned back to the door, and I found myself calling out. "Tell Torion to be quick about it. And safe," I added, my voice cracking out at the end.
"I think he means to be, ma'am," Cameron said.
I swallowed hard and folded my arms over my chest, my feet demanding to pace the length of the hall. But I forced them back to the bedroom, knowing there would be no peace now, no patience. I was left alone with worry and waiting until Torion returned.