Chapter 24 #2
River faltered, not knowing what to say. Her gaze fell to her hands where they rested in her lap, and she tried very hard to remember when her monthlies had last come.
“I think it’s been a while,” she admitted in the end. “Over…over a month.”
“And has that happened before?” asked Jenson gently.
River shook her head. This had never happened to her before, though now that it had, she hadn’t given much thought to it. Instead, she had simply bypassed the fact, too busy with everything else that was happening in her life to think about this, too.
“Then I believe it is safe to say we’re with bairn, me lady,” said Jenson with a smile. “Congratulations! We have been waitin’ for this moment for a long time. All of us.”
Of course everyone had been waiting for the moment River would give their Laird an heir and secure the future of the clan. Of course everyone would be happy now.
Everyone but her; everyone but Archer, if what she feared was real.
A cold dread spread through River’s stomach at the thought that Archer might be furious with her for falling regnant.
What if he hated her for it? What if he blamed her?
What if he saw this child as nothing more than an obstacle to his plans?
He remembered now, and River didn’t know whether that meant he had changed his mind once more about having children, if he still wanted nothing to do with the mere thought of it.
What if he does blame me for it? What if he hates me? What if he hates the bairn?
And then there was another thought that invaded her mind, too.
What if he uses the bairn as a pawn?
It was what River had been fearing from the start, that she would give Archer an heir and he would use the child from the moment it was born to advance his own goals. A child was not a political pawn or a bargaining chip, and River wasn’t going to let her own be used in such a way.
When she turned to look at Finlay, she found the man teary-eyed, barely holding it together. He moved closer to her, taking her hand in his own, large and warm one, wrapping it tightly.
“River…och, yer maither would have been so happy.”
The mention of her mother filled River with a strange mixture of emotions—nostalgia and pain for having lost her, grief and anger for what she had done.
But underneath it all was this strange desire to have her mother by her side when she would give birth, as she was the only one she could think of who could give her such support.
Layla…she may nae be me maither, she may only be a young lass, but she will be my rock through this.
Now the tears fell freely from Finlay’s eyes, and River placed her free hand on the man’s shoulder, smiling faintly.
She tried to convince herself this was a good thing, but that familiar, cold dread coiled in her stomach until she felt entirely empty, entirely drained, in a way that had nothing to do with the fact that she struggled to eat.
“Ye have me word,” said Finlay then, raising his gaze to look River straight in the eyes. “I will protect her. I will protect yer wee lass.”
Now River couldn’t help but laugh, the sound soft and fond. “Are ye already certain it will be a lass?”
Finlay chuckled and dabbed at his eyes with the back of his hand. “I hope it will be,” he said. “Let an old fool hope.”
All River hoped for was that the child would be wanted by its father. And yet, she wished she never had to tell him the news.
When Finlay and Jenson had finally left, leaving River alone in the room, she couldn’t help but miss their presence.
She wanted someone there—anyone. She wanted someone to distract her from her thoughts, from her worries, if not listen to them.
After all, for years, the only one to whom she could talk openly had been her brother, Aidan. Now, he was not there with her. He was not there to tell her what to do, to tell her how to speak to Archer about all this. He was not there to advise her or to comfort her.
And not only was he not there, but River had been accusing him of terrible things, as well.
For a moment, she hesitated, her gaze falling on the small desk where she was stashing the letters Aidan was sending her.
Sometimes it’s easy to forget people love us. It’s easy to forget they’re on our side. But when ye decide to open those letters, remember yer brother and think…does he love ye? I think he does.
Archer’s words from their evening at the lake rushed back to her then.
It was as if she could hear him, just as clearly as that day, and it was those words which urged her to get out of bed and walk over to the desk.
Her hand hovered over the lock, fingers tracing its opening.
She had the key in the top drawer, which was always unlocked, and yet it took her a few moments to gather the courage to grab it and unlock the one with the letters.
There were so many of them. For over a year, Aidan had been sending her a letter a month, sometimes more. They were all scattered in the drawer, and River touched the papers gently, hesitantly, as if fearing they would disintegrate under her fingers.
It took a lot of courage for her to pick one up and open it, and even more courage to read it. When she began to read Aidan’s words, though, her eyes quickly welled up with tears that fell unbridled from her eyes, with no hope of her ever stopping them.
There was a common thread in every letter she opened, her fingers grasping for any they could reach and tearing off their seals with urgency. They all spoke of news from home, and they all included the same apology.
I am sorry, River. I tried to stop her, I truly did. I wish I could have before she caused so much harm.
I love you. If you never talk to me again, I understand.
It was difficult to read through the blur of tears, but River persevered.
She wanted to read it all, to know it all, to see what her brother had been writing her all this time.
It turned out he had known for much longer than she had, and he had failed to stop their mother from trying to kill innocents—but that didn’t mean he hadn’t tried.
And he hadn’t told her so he wouldn’t burden her with the same knowledge that plagued him.
How could I have been so cruel to him? How could I accuse him of such terrible things?
How could I ignore his letters for so long?
Guilt climbed up her throat, choking her.
A sob racked through her, and River collapsed on the nearest chair, letting her head fall into her hands.
She had been so unfair to Aidan. Her bother had surely spent the past year thinking she hated him, that she didn’t want to speak to him, that she blamed him for everything, when the truth of the matter was that she blamed herself—and she was afraid. So afraid.
She had to make it up to him. She had to take away as much of the pain she had caused as she could. She had to ask for forgiveness.
Grabbing a piece of paper from another drawer, along with a pen and ink, she began to write.