Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Laura waited for Cora and played with Angus, who had been sleeping by the hearth.
“Ye are a sweet pup, are ye nae, Angus?” Laura scratched his ear.
The dog replied with a soft whine.
“It’s possible ye may have a bairn to guard as well as me. Would ye like that?”
Cora returned not long after, the door creaking open as the scent of fresh bread and honey drifted into the chamber. She carried a tray with tea, porridge sweetened with cream, and a plate of fruit that gleamed in the morning light.
“Up ye get, lass,” Cora said cheerfully, setting the tray on the small table by the bed. “Ye’ll need yer strength now, aye? Eat somethin’, and when ye’re done, we’ll go see Eidith.”
Laura blinked sleepily, her cheeks still pale from the morning’s sickness. “Eidith? The healer woman?” she asked, her voice soft. “Cora, is that truly necessary? She’s a somewhat strange one, is she nae?”
“Aye, me Lady, ‘tis necessary,” Cora replied, wagging a finger. “There’s nay harm in makin’ sure. If ye are carryin’ a bairn, Eidith will ken for certain. She’s got the gift, that one.”
Laura hesitated but nodded, picking up her spoon.
The porridge soothed her empty stomach, and the hot tea calmed the lingering nausea.
As she ate, Cora fussed around the room, folding a shawl here and straightening a pillow there.
When Laura finished, she rose, dressing in a simple wool gown of soft blue and wrapping a cloak about her shoulders.
“Come now,” Cora said, tying her own shawl tightly. “The morn’s fair bright. We’ll be back before the Laird’s even done with his duties.”
They made their way out of the castle, crossing the courtyard as a chill wind tugged at their cloaks. Beyond the gates, a narrow path led down toward a cluster of small cottages nestled near the water’s edge. Smoke rose from one chimney, curling lazily into the pale sky.
“That’s Eidith’s place,” Cora said with a nod.
Laura’s nerves fluttered as they approached the little stone cottage. The door creaked open before they could knock, and the old woman with wild silver hair and eyes sharp as glass peered out.
“Cora, ye’ve brought me trouble, I can see it,” she said with a grin that showed more gaps than teeth. “And what’s this bonnie lass doing tremblin’ on me doorstep? It’s Lady McCormack, aye?”
Cora chuckled. “Nay trouble, Eidith, only a bit of news, mayhap. The Lady here’s been feelin’ unwell.”
Eidith’s gaze swept over Laura with a knowing air. “Unwell, is it? Come in, child, come in. Let me have a look at ye before I start guessin’ what the good Lord’s got planned.”
The cottage smelled of herbs and peat smoke, warm and cluttered with dried bundles hanging from the beams. Laura sat on a small stool as Eidith shuffled closer, her gnarled hands surprisingly gentle as she pressed a palm to Laura’s forehead, then to her belly.
She hummed a soft tune as she closed her eyes. Finally, she opened her eyes.
“Tell me,” Eidith said softly, “when last did ye bleed, lass?”
Laura blushed, glancing nervously at Cora. “I daenae remember,” she admitted. “It’s been some time now.”
Eidith nodded, humming thoughtfully. “Aye, I thought as much. Lie back a bit, love.” She pressed lightly against Laura’s stomach again, her brow furrowing in concentration.
Then she took Laura’s hand, turned it palm-up, and inspected the faint blue veins beneath the skin.
Finally, she asked, “Push out yer tongue. Let’s see it, then. ”
Laura opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue.
“Aha,” Eidith muttered, a smile twitching at her lips. “There it is.”
Laura sat upright, anxious. “There what is?”
Eidith chuckled, her eyes twinkling. “The spark of new life, lass. There’s a bairn growin’ inside ye, sure as the dawn rises.”
Laura gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “Truly?” she whispered. “Ye’re certain?”
“As certain as I am that the sun will set this night,” Eidith said, patting her arm kindly. “Ye’re with child, lass. The signs are plain as day—the warmth in yer pulse, the sickness in yer belly, and the glow startin’ to rise in yer cheeks.”
Laura felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. “A bairn,” she breathed. “Bradley’s bairn.”
Cora beamed beside her. “I told ye so, me Lady!” she said proudly. “The clan will be overjoyed.”
Eidith chuckled. “Aye, and the Laird most of all, I’d wager.
But ye must rest now, Lady McCormack. Keep yer heart steady and yer body strong.
Ye’re carryin’ the future of this clan.” She reached for a small bundle of dried herbs and pressed it into Laura’s hands.
“Steep these in hot water each morn. They’ll calm yer stomach and give the bairn strength. ”
Laura clutched the herbs to her chest, gratitude washing over her. “Thank ye, Eidith,” she said earnestly. “Ye’ve been so kind.”
The old woman waved a wrinkled hand. “Bah, nonsense. Kindness costs naught, lass. Go now and tell the Laird his heir grows well. And tell him Eidith expects a fine cradle to be built before summer.”
Cora laughed, and Laura joined her softly. As they left the cottage, the morning sun broke through the clouds. The path back to the castle seemed somehow brighter than before.
They walked in silence for a time, the only sound being the crunch of gravel beneath their boots. Laura’s fingers lingered over her belly as a quiet smile curved her lips.
“It feels strange,” she said finally, her voice full of awe. “To think there’s a life within me. A wee soul, half mine and half his.”
Cora looked at her fondly. “Aye, me Lady. ‘Tis the greatest miracle of all, that.”
By the time they crossed back through the castle gates, Laura felt lighter than she had in weeks. The servants greeted her with warm smiles, and the air seemed full of quiet joy she could not explain.
When she reached her chamber, she sat by the window, staring out over the water’s shimmering surface.
For the first time since her marriage, peace settled fully in her heart.
She thought of Bradley, his strength, his temper, and the tenderness he tried to hide behind stern words.
He was flawed and fierce, but he was hers.
She had fought the thought once, convincing herself she was still bound by her vows to the Abbey, by promises made to a life now long gone. But that morning, as she sat with her hand over her womb, she understood that her path had changed.
This was her life now—her husband, her home, her child.
Laura smiled, tears of joy stinging her eyes as she whispered to herself, “Aye, I love him. I truly love him.”
And with that admission came a warmth so deep it silenced every lingering fear. She knew then that whatever storms lay ahead, she and Bradley would face them together, stronger, bound by love, and now by the precious life growing within her.
Laura nearly tripped over her own skirts as she ran through the corridors, her laughter echoing against the stone walls of the old castle.
The joy bubbling inside her could not be contained; her heart raced faster than her feet.
She reached the study first, breathless and flushed, and knocked eagerly upon the wooden door.
When there was no answer, she frowned slightly, pushing it open to find the room empty, the fire crackling quietly in the hearth as if mocking her anticipation.
She turned and hurried toward the kitchens, the hem of her gown brushing the cold floors as she darted past servants carrying baskets of vegetables and sacks of flour.
The cooks looked up in surprise at the Lady of the Castle rushing about like a lass chasing after mischief.
But there was no sign of Bradley, not at the long table, not near the hearth, not even outside near the stables.
Laura’s brow furrowed as she turned toward the training grounds, her mind still racing with excitement, imagining how she would tell him their lives were about to change forever.
The clang of swords met her ears as she neared the practice yard, but it was only a few of the younger men sparring. Her heart sank when she saw no sign of her husband among them.
Turning on her heel, she spotted Cora walking toward her with a basket of linens in her arms. “Cora, have ye seen the Laird anywhere?” Laura asked, trying to catch her breath. “I’ve searched the whole castle and I cannae find him.”
Cora set the basket down, brushing her hands on her apron. “Och, me Lady, I believe he rode to the mainland with Alan. Somethin’ to do with business or trade, at least that’s what me brother said before he left.”
Laura’s shoulders slumped with a sigh, her excitement softening into a restless ache.
“Oh, I see,” she murmured. “I was anxious to speak with him.”
Cora smiled knowingly and took Laura gently by the arm. “Come now, lass, sit ye down in the kitchen. Ye’ll feel better with a bite to eat. Ye’re eatin’ for two now, aye?”
The kitchen was warm and full of life, with the smell of roasting meat and baking bread filling the air. Cora set a wooden plate in front of Laura—thick slices of bannock bread, a steaming cup of tea, and a generous helping of mutton stew rich with onions and herbs.
“There now,” Cora said, grinning as she poured her mistress a mug of warm milk sweetened with honey. “A meal fit for a laird’s lady and her wee bairn.”
Laura laughed softly, her hand instinctively resting on her still-flat belly.
“I’ll go tell the stable boy to alert us in the kitchen the moment the Laird returns,” Cora said.
“Thank ye,” Laura said as she watched Cora leave.
As she ate, Laura felt a deep calm settle over her. She thought of the Abbey, of her quiet days spent among the nuns, her hands ink-stained from copying prayers, her heart at peace yet longing for something more. Now she had found that “more.”
She wanted to write to them, to tell them that her heart had been remade, that love, once foreign and uncertain, now filled her like sunlight through stained glass.
She smiled faintly at the thought of their reactions, imagining them weeping for joy and the younger girls whispering in awe at how life had turned out for her.
Cora returned after a short while, wiping her hands on her apron and joining Laura at the table.
“Stable boy says he’ll come runnin’ the moment the Laird returns as asked,” she said as she sat down with a bowl of stew for herself. “Now eat up proper, me Lady. A bairn takes strength, and ye’ll need plenty of that.”
Laura chuckled and nodded, taking another spoonful, feeling warmth spread through her chest. “Ye sound like Eidith,” she teased lightly.
“Aye,” Cora replied with a wink, “but Eidith doesnae have to chase after ye with a spoon.”
The two women shared an easy silence, with the fire crackling nearby and the soft chatter of the scullery maids and cooks filling the room. But the quiet peace didn’t last long. The kitchen door burst open suddenly, and a young stable boy stumbled in, breathless.
“Me Lady!” he cried, bowing quickly. “The Laird’s return, ma’am. He’s just returned his horse to the stables!”
Laura’s spoon froze midair, her pulse quickening. “Thank ye,” she said, rising so fast her chair scraped against the floor.
Her hands trembled slightly as she made her way through the corridors, her heart fluttering like a caged bird. The stone hallways seemed longer than ever, her footsteps echoing in rhythm with her anxious thoughts.
When she came upon a passing maid carrying linens, she stopped her. “Have ye seen the Laird?” Laura asked softly.
The maid curtsied, smiling. “Aye, me Lady, he’s in his study with Alan.”
Laura nodded, murmuring her thanks before continuing down the hall. She paused at the heavy oak door, her nerves prickling. Inside, she could hear low voices, Bradley’s deep tone and Alan’s steady reply, speaking of grazing lands and the shifting of herds before winter.
Taking a breath, she knocked.
“Enter,” came Bradley’s voice, calm but clipped.
Laura pushed open the door and stepped inside. Bradley stood beside his desk, a map spread before him, while Alan leaned against a chair. The two men turned at her entrance, and Bradley’s expression softened slightly.
“Laura,” he greeted her, though his tone held a note of surprise.
“I apologize for interruptin’,” she said, her voice trembling a little, “but I need a word with ye, alone.”
Alan exchanged a knowing look with Bradley and inclined his head. “Aye, I’ll take me leave then,” he said with a grin that reached his eyes. “Good day, me Lady.”
When the door shut behind him, silence filled the study. Laura’s fingers twisted nervously in her skirts.
Bradley frowned slightly, concern flickering in his dark eyes. “What’s the matter, lass?” he asked, stepping closer.
Laura’s breath caught. She looked up at him, her heart racing so fast she feared he could hear it. And before she could think, the words tumbled out of her. “Bradley,” she blurted, “I’m with a bairn.”
The room seemed to still around them, the fire’s crackle, the whisper of wind through the window, all fading into quiet. Bradley’s eyes widened, his jaw slackening for a moment before his expression melted into disbelief.
“Ye mean…?” he started, his voice thick with emotion.
Laura nodded, tears of joy pricking her eyes as she pressed a hand over her heart.
“Aye, it’s true,” she whispered, smiling through her trembling. “Eidith confirmed it herself. We’re goin’ to have a bairn.”
For a long heartbeat, Bradley said nothing.