Chapter 16
Oscar cut the same slice of meat into smaller pieces.
The knife scraped across the pewter plate as he turned one square and divided it again. None had reached his mouth. The ale he had poured remained untouched beside his right hand, and his sword rested within reach on his left.
Lennan had not sent another report from the eastern border, and Ceana’s empty chair stood close enough for Oscar to touch its carved back without leaning.
He had come down to put stone walls and a flight of stairs between himself and their bed.
Their chamber had been dark when he dressed. Ceana lay beneath the blanket, one hand curled near her face. Oscar had fastened his belt by the dying fire and left before her eyes opened. Sleep had claimed him only in brief stretches. His body had remained painfully aware of the woman beside him.
It remained so even now.
He remembered Ceana rising into the soft kiss he had given her. Her lips had parted against his, and her fingers had tightened on his bare chest when she tried to draw him back.
He could return upstairs. He could cross their chamber, pull aside the bed curtains, and find her awake on the pillow.
In his mind, her mouth softened when she saw him, and without thinking twice, she reached for him. He then climbed over her and pushed her nightgown above her knees. Her legs opened around his hips, warm and inviting.
He remembered the broken sound she had made when he pushed into her on their wedding night, and he could feel his length harden with the knowledge that he could hear it again.
Suddenly, the image changed. Now, the white linen gathered at Ceana’s thighs darkened with blood, and a newborn cried against his chest. Blood spread beneath her and soaked through every cloth the midwife pressed between her legs.
One limp hand hung beside the mattress, while he held a child he could not return to the woman who had borne it.
Nay. Nay, nay, nay, nay.
A clump of dark hair covered the pillow now. Ceana’s mouth had turned blue, and her closed eyes did not move when he spoke her name.
The knife scraped against his plate. His fist tightened until the handle dug into his palm. His erection still pressed against his breeches even after the vision, while his stomach twisted hard enough to hurt.
He set down the knife carefully. “Nay, nae while I draw breath.”
The door hit the wall, jolting him out of his reverie. He immediately wrapped his hand around the hilt of his sword before he recognized Paisley.
He rose and searched the passage behind her. No stranger followed. His daughter stood alone in a gown pulled hastily over her shift, one hand holding the loose front closed. Her hair hung around her wet face.
“What? What is it? Are ye hurt?”
“I need Ceana.” Her voice broke on the name.
Oscar stepped around the table and checked her face for bruises. “Did someone enter yer chamber?”
Paisley shook her head, more tears running down her cheeks.
“Did someone frighten ye?”
“Ye daenae ken anythin’. I need her, nae ye.”
“I have been yer faither for years before Ceana came here.” He lowered his voice. “Tell me what is goin’ on.”
Her grip tightened on her gown. “I will only tell Ceana.”
When he opened his mouth again, Paisley hunched her shoulders and clutched the gown tighter. He swallowed the next question and crouched until their eyes were level, keeping his hands where she could see them.
“Then I will get her for ye.”
He straightened, ready to call for a servant, when his wife appeared in the doorway. She had dressed quickly, and several strands had escaped her loose braid and rested against her neck, recalling the dark hair spread over her pillow when he left.
Ceana looked first at Paisley. Then her gaze shifted to Oscar before flitting away. He wanted to cross the hall and cup her cheek in his hand. He drew in a breath to speak, then stopped. To explain, he would have to tell her about the blood and the dead woman whose face had become hers.
Paisley ran to her at that moment, interrupting his train of thought. Ceana gathered the girl against her chest and held her until the first hard sob passed. She cupped Paisley’s face, then examined her hands and wrists.
“What happened?” she asked.
Oscar huffed. “Daenae ask me. I ken nothin’. She wouldnae tell me.”
The corner of her mouth twitched.
Paisley whispered against Ceana’s shoulder. Ceana glanced down at the gown clutched around her, then brushed the loose hair from her damp cheek.
“I think I ken what ails ye. Come with me.”
Paisley caught Ceana’s hand in both of hers. At that moment, Mairi and two servants stepped into the passage to investigate.
Ceana turned toward Mairi. “Warm water and clean linen, please.”
“At once, me Lady.” Mairi’s calm answer eased Paisley’s grip.
“Take everythin’ Lady MacKane requires to Paisley’s chamber,” Oscar said to the other servants. “The upper passage is to remain clear until she says otherwise.”
They withdrew without argument. Mairi briefly met Oscar’s gaze, then went to fetch the linen and warm water.
Oscar cleared the way as Ceana led Paisley toward the stairs.
“I can send for the healer,” he offered.
Ceana paused with one hand on Paisley’s back. “I will send for her if she is needed.”
Oscar nodded gently and followed at a distance. Near the upper landing, a maid approached with a coal scuttle. One look from him sent her back the way she had come.
Mairi soon arrived with a basin and folded linen. She followed Ceana and Paisley into the chamber, while Oscar stopped beside the window across from his daughter’s door.
He did not knock. Something told him he wasn’t supposed to.
Ceana closed the door and lowered the latch.
Paisley went to the bed, still gripping the front of her gown. A dark stain marked the sheet, and another marked the back of her gown. Her face had gone pale beneath the tears.
Ceana approached her slowly. “Tell me where the blood came from, lass. Are ye hurt anywhere besides yer belly or yer back?”
“Me belly aches.” Paisley glanced at the bed, then pulled her gown closer. “I woke up and thought I had wet meself. Then I saw it.” Her mouth trembled. “Am I dyin’?”
“Ye are safe. I only need to see enough to be certain. May I look at the stain on yer shift?”
Paisley turned reluctantly. Ceana checked the blood on the linen without lifting the garment, then guided her to sit on the bed.
“Ye’re havin’ yer first courses.”
Paisley wiped her cheek. “I have heard Mairi speak of courses. She never said there would be so much blood.”
Ceana nodded. “Well, most girls begin to bleed as their bodies grow. It’s just that blood looks worse on white linen.”
Fear flashed in Paisley’s wide eyes. “Does it mean I am a woman now? Because I daenae want to be a woman yet.”
Ceana sat beside her. “Ye are still twelve. Ye still have lessons, games, and years before anyone would call ye grown. Yer first courses willnae change that.”
Paisley looked down at her bare feet. “Will it stop?”
“It should stop after a few days. The first courses may be irregular, so ye must tell me if anythin’ frightens ye.”
A quiet knock sounded at the door. Ceana rose and lifted the latch.
Mairi stood outside with warm water and folded linen. Oscar waited near the window across from the door, holding himself as Ceana would imagine he did before an armed threat. It was the same way he had held himself in the tent where they had first met.
Their gazes met. She remembered waking alone, the sheet cold where he should have been. He had withdrawn before dawn. At least he kept watch within calling distance.
Ceana stepped aside to let Mairi in and then closed the door.
Mairi placed the water near the fireplace, drew the curtains partway around the bed, and folded the stained sheet inward.
“I shall see to this meself,” she said. “If I require help, I ken who I can call. Daenae worry.”
“Will Tommy ken?” Paisley asked.
“Nay one will tell him.” Mairi wrapped the sheet into a compact bundle. “I shall put clean linen in the bottom of yer chest. If ye’re embarrassed, I promise that only Lady MacKane and I will touch it.”
She handed Ceana the clean linen and looked at Paisley as calmly as she would have probably looked at a torn hem before carrying the stained bundle away.
Ceana sat beside the basin and opened the clean linen across her lap. She folded a strip into several layers and showed Paisley how to place it where it would catch the blood.
“Change it when it grows damp or begins to trouble ye. Ye can also wrap the used cloths in linen for washing and keep a clean one nearby.”
Paisley touched the folded edge. “Must ye help me put it on?”
“Only if ye wish it. Ye may wash and change in private. I can wait beyond the curtain, or stay here with me back turned.”
“Stay.”
Ceana turned toward the fireplace as Paisley carried the basin behind the bed curtains. The girl let out a small hiss, and Ceana resisted the urge to go to her.
“Is the ache worse?” she asked.
“A little.”
Ceana nodded, her mind briefly flashing to her first period when she had been thirteen years old. Daphne had gotten hers earlier, and Ceana remembered listening to their mother advise her on steps to take.
She couldn’t imagine what the poor girl would have done if she wasn’t here. Relying solely on Oscar sounded like a nightmare.
“Warmth against yer lower belly may ease that ache ye feel,” she advised, straining her ears. “Also, rest if ye need to. If the pain grows severe or the blood frightens ye again, ye come to Mairi or me at once.”
Paisley emerged in a clean shift, holding the empty basin. Ceana took it and set it aside. The girl’s attention returned to the new folded sheet on the bed.
“If a maid had found it, she might have told everyone.” Her voice dropped. “Tommy would have heard. What if someone laughs?”
“Mairi will have it washed without naming its owner. If anyone mocks ye, I will deal with them in person.”
Paisley nodded, looking around the room. “Will it happen again on the sheets?”
“It may. Monthly courses can begin during sleep or before ye have a cloth ready.” Ceana placed the remaining linen in her hands. “If a sheet is stained, we wash it. Ye neednae hide from me or Mairi.”
Paisley looked back at the bed. “Could I sleep on another folded cloth until it stops? And keep a spare sheet in the chest?”
“Aye. We shall arrange both.”
Ceana opened the chest. Paisley passed over a pale green gown and chose one of dark blue wool.
“That one, please.”
Ceana helped secure the back ties and made no comment on the color.
Paisley smoothed both hands over the dark skirt. “Will me courses come every month?”
“They usually return almost every month.” Ceana refolded a clean cloth whose edges had slipped out of place. “Mine have never been regular. Sometimes they come late. Sometimes they daenae come for months.”
Paisley turned away from the small mirror. “Does that mean somethin’ is wrong with ye?”
The linen creased beneath Ceana’s fingers. She released it and flattened the fold against her knee. “Irregular courses daenae make a woman broken.”
Saying it to Paisley required no effort. However, she had never managed to look at herself in a mirror and give herself the same reassurance.
“So mine might be irregular too?”
“They may take time to become regular. Anyway, ye mustnae lie alone and frighten yerself.”
Paisley touched the ties at her waist. At this point, her hands had stopped trembling.
“Would ye rather rest here or go back downstairs?” Ceana asked.
“I daenae want everyone thinkin’ I am ill.”
“Then we shall go down. Yer faither kept the passage clear. If ye wish to return here later, ye need only tell me.”
Paisley’s face softened. “I am glad ye are here.”
Ceana’s hand stopped on the folded linen. Paisley had run through the castle calling for her. The girl had chosen her. Something about that tugged at her heart.
She set down the linen, drew Paisley into her arms, and kissed her forehead. “So am I, lass.”
The passage remained empty when Ceana opened the door. They found Oscar at the foot of the stairs, facing the landing as if he had heard them come out.
His gaze went directly to his daughter. He took in her clean gown and steadier face, then glanced at Ceana and waited.
“She will be well,” she assured him.
Oscar gave a slow nod. Thankfully, he did not press the issue. Something seemed to tell him now wasn’t the time.
He moved aside to let them pass. As Ceana descended towards him, his hand lifted to the small of her back. His palm came within inches of her gown before his fingers curled and his arm fell.
Her body remembered the press of his hand against her bare skin, and her back tingled with every step.
In the breakfast hall, her place had not been touched, though a fresh cup of tea sat ready beside her plate. The food on Oscar’s plate looked barely touched. He pulled out Paisley’s chair, and Ceana took her seat without mentioning the bed he had left.
Tommy hurried in with Ness tugging at the lead. He stopped when he saw Paisley’s red-rimmed eyes, looked over her face, and asked no question.
“Will ye play hide and seek?” he asked. “The whole castle is better when there are more hunters.”
Paisley glanced at Ceana.
“It is all right,” Ceana allowed. “Ye can play.”
“I want to play.” Paisley rose from her chair.
Tommy thrust the goat’s lead into her hand. “Ye shall captain our side. Ye ken the hidin’ places better than I do.”
“Our side?” Oscar echoed.
“Adults against children,” Tommy declared. “Ness is with us.”
Ceana looked at the goat, who had begun nosing the hem of Paisley’s gown. “What qualifies Ness as a child?”
“She is young and she is smaller than Da.”
“Well, by that standard, most of Scotland belongs to yer team,” Ceana said.
Paisley laughed, then caught Tommy’s hand. “Come. We seek first.”
The children raced into the passage, with Ness’s hooves striking the floor behind them.
Ceana met Oscar’s gaze across the table. “It seems ye are stuck with me, husband.”
His eyes lowered to her mouth. “Aye, it seems so.”
Ceana swallowed, staring back at him.
Great.