Chapter Nine #2
With a short nod to Elise, Winnie pressed down on Chloe's stomach again.
Elise held Chloe's arms. The girl did little more than grunt when Winnie bore down on her stomach.
Another contraction struck. Chloe's hips arched off the bed.
Elise bit her lip to keep the tears in check.
How much more could the girl endure? She'd labored for twenty-two hours.
Soon, she would grow too weak to birth the child.
Winnie pressed down on the baby for an agonizing hour and a half, then abruptly took a quick step back and reached beneath the sheet covering Chloe's legs. Elise felt a sudden jerk on Chloe's body, and the girl nearly wrenched free of her hold.
“Hold her!” Winnie shouted.
Elise closed her eyes. Chloe screamed. Elise heard a loud swooshing noise and her eyes shot open as Chloe went limp.
No loud wail followed.
Chloe bolted upright. “Give him to me!”
“Now, Chloe,” Winnie cooed, her back to them. “Let me take the babe and—”
“Nae!” Chloe screamed. “Give me my bairn.”
Winnie looked over her shoulder. “Chloe, 'tis best if ye don't see him.” Her eyes softened. “Trust me, lass, I know.”
Chloe looked at Winnie, her face suddenly far older than her nineteen years. “He's mine. I have the right to hold him.” Her pained expression deepened.
A pain of the soul, not the body. One Elise knew all too well.
“The bairn is a part of me,” Chloe ended simply.
Winnie sighed, then faced them. Elise told herself to avert her gaze, but maternal instinct, the memory of her own lost child, brought her gaze to bear on the beautifully formed babe.
Winnie placed him in his mother's arms. Chloe cradled him as tenderly as if he had lived.
She wiped the blood from his face, then traced his mouth with a gentle finger. She looked up at Winnie.
“He has Daniel's mouth.”
“Aye,” Winnie replied.
Chloe began to rock as she sang in a low voice.
The Gaelic words were as Greek to Elise but the meaning was clear.
Unshed tears stung her eyes. The picture of mother and child blurred with the memory of holding her own dear Amelia, the feel of her daughter's skin, baby soft against her breast. Elise's gaze focused on the blood-smeared body of Chloe's child.
Were things so different for her? Did Chloe love the nameless child any less than she had loved Amelia?
Love had deepened for Amelia as time passed.
Yet she and Chloe shared the same pain that came with lost possibilities.
The young woman had glimpsed her husband in their child.
Elise had seen much of Robert in Amelia.
Who would the children have grown up to be?
Who would they have fallen in love with?
What children might they have brought into the world?
Winnie snatched the child from Chloe's arms. Chloe's tear-filled gaze locked on the babe as Winnie whirled and disappeared through the door.
Elise froze. She was alone with the grief stricken mother.
Her own loss, instead of creating a bridge between them, had widened the chasm, bringing her to the precipice where roiled unrealized emotions, more bittersweet memories—and another, deeper, more concrete conviction that she, too, had failed as a mother.
“I killed him,” Chloe whispered.
Elise stared. When had it happened? What had been the defining moment in history when womankind became convinced that if anything went awry in the lives of those they loved, they were somehow responsible?
Had it begun with Eve? Had the beguiling serpent planted the seed that all mankind would suffer as a result of her misdeed?
Elise fell to her knees beside Chloe's bed.
“No.” She took the shaking girl into her arms. “It isn't your fault. It's no one's fault.”
Chloe clung to her, her tears bathing Elise's neck.
It seemed hours later when Elise heard the creak of the door and looked up to see Winnie standing in the doorway.
Winnie's gaze went to Chloe, who slept, then came back to Elise.
Elise rose from the bed and tiptoed across the floor.
Winnie stepped from the doorway and Elise followed, quietly closing the door behind her.
The porch, not long ago filled with friends and neighbors joyously awaiting the arrival of the newest MacGregor, now held only silence.
“You told Daniel?” Elise asked.
“Aye.”
“Where is he?”
She nodded to the left of the cottage where the path led into the cover of the moonless night. Elise started down the steps.
“Perhaps ye had best leave him to his grief,” Winnie offered.
Elise paused, then disappeared into the darkness.
Daniel hadn't gone far. She saw him, arm outstretched on a tree, shoulders shaking with silent tears. She halted a few feet from him. “Daniel.” She heard his quick intake of breath and stepped closer in order to put a hand on his shoulder. “Daniel.”
His shoulder stiffened beneath her fingers. She turned him toward her. Without hesitation he fell into her arms and wept.
“A son,” he said between sobs.
“I know,” she replied, and his tears fell even more freely.
At last, he released her and stepped back. He straightened, again the proud warrior. Elise breathed a silent sigh of relief. He would recover. Now for Chloe. “Daniel, the loss of the child is terrible, but you have something else which must be dealt with now.”
“What?”
“Chloe.”
“Is something amiss? Winnie said she would live.” He looked as if he would race back to the cottage.
“No,” Elise quickly put in, “you misunderstand. She will live. However…” Elise hesitated. These Highland men weren't known for having a deep understanding of their women, and she, a stranger, stood before one of them, presuming to tell him how to better deal with one of his own.
“Out with it,” he growled. “If she is in danger—” His voice lowered. “Did Winnie lie?” He seized her shoulders.
Elise laid a hand on his arm. “The danger doesn't lie with her body, but her heart.”
“Her heart?”
“She blames herself. What's worse, she believes you blame her.”
His hands dropped away. “Of course I don't blame her.”
“She thinks otherwise.”
He gave a dismissive wave of his hand. “She'll think differently tomorrow.”
Anger shot through Elise. “You, sir, have no idea what a woman thinks.”
A silence drew out between them before he said, “What did she say?”
“She didn't tell me outright, but I… I understand how she feels.”
Daniel studied her. “You lost a child?”
“Yes.”
He breathed deep. “What's to be done?”
“Go to her. Be with her. Let her know you still love her. It's you she needs.”
He stared for a moment then, without a word, strode toward the cottage.
Elise watched until he disappeared into the darkness.
A moment later, she heard the shuffle of boots on the porch.
With the click of the cottage door, exhaustion washed over her.
She took three steps to the closest tree and leaned against the trunk, resting her head.
What a fool she was to have become too entangled with these people.
They were no longer faceless strangers, but named friends whose lives had touched her.
Friends she had deceived—Marcus most of all.
She pushed from the tree and started down the path.
No guard remained to escort her home. The moon peeked from behind clouds.
She welcomed the solitary walk. The moment the thought formed, tears rolled down her cheeks.
Elise gave her head a hard shake but only succeeded in further blurring her vision.
The moon dipped behind the clouds again and she was plunged into shadows.
Her toe slammed against a rock. She lurched forward.
She thrust her hands out in defense of the fall, but large hands seized her waist and yanked her against a hard body.
Elise opened her mouth to scream but the arm tightened around her and the scream emerged a squeak.
“Re-release me you brute!” she wheezed, giving her assailant a hard kick to the leg.
He cursed softly. Her stomach did a somersault. Marcus.
“Brute, is it?” he murmured. A strained note in his voice said the kick had been successful. “You dare call me brute when I saved you from a nasty fall?”
Elise sagged against him. “You gave me a scare.” She took a deep breath.
He ran a hand over her shoulder, following the caress with a kiss to her neck. “'Tis not nice for a lady to call her lover a brute.” Another kiss followed on her shoulder.
“Good Lord.” She broke free and faced him, trying to discern his features in the darkness. When unsuccessful, she muttered, “You truly are a man.”
He chuckled. “That doesn't please you?” Marcus took her hand and started down the path. “Never mind. It will soon enough.”
They walked for a few moments, then he slipped an arm around her waist. A shock rippled through Elise, settling between her legs.
This feeling she had to guard against. When she left—her heart wrenched and she became painfully aware of his arm around her.
His warmth had seeped through her dress, comforting, offering the promise—Elise clamped down on the burgeoning desire.
She wouldn't hurt him by giving herself to him then leaving.
She had to keep him at a distance for just a little longer.
“You must be exhausted,” he said.
She thought of Chloe. “I'm worried about Chloe.”
“She'll be fine. Daniel loves her.”
“Yes. Their love is their salvation.”
“'Tis always the case,” Marcus stated matter-of-factly.
Her heart leapt. “Oh?”
“Aye. The love between a man and a woman is salvation itself.”
“Perhaps. However, they will be needing an extra dose now.”
“You don't think Daniel loves her?”
“I believe he will do his best to comfort her,” she replied.
“And who will comfort Daniel?”
“Chloe, of course. Who else?”
“Who else, indeed?” Marcus repeated softly, and this time she couldn't stop the flutter of her heart.
* * *
When they entered the castle's kitchen, Marcus ordered Mary to prepare a hot bath for Elise. She protested, but he shook his head.