His Bonnie Bride

by Hannah Howell

  "Ah, well, if you think of it as a meal, I have barely finished the first course." She laughed as, with a growl, he kissed her, and her last clear thought was " 'God bless you, Storm. I hope Tavis MacLagan is wise enough to know what a treasure he could have in you.' "

  * * * * *

  Tavis MacLagan sat drinking and cursing Storm Eldon in as many colorful ways as his ale-soddened mind could come up with. He was prone to cursing a vast number of other people as well, including his kinsmen who sat at the table, wondering if they would have to carry him to his bed. Under all his anger lay a gnawing hurt and a deep concern for the tiny woman who would soon bear his child. In truth, he was afraid of her.

  "God's beard," he muttered, glaring into his ale. "The first time I didnae speak and the second time no one would let me. It seems I am fated to e'er see her ride away with that cursed Eldon."

  Colin smothered a laugh. "The man does seem to e'er be about. Aye, an I had a daughter like Storm, I would be quick to horse too. The lass does seem to have a way o' getting into the thick o' it."

  "Matters might have gone more smoothly had ye not had your hands all o'er that bitch, Katerine."

  Slamming his tankard down on the table, Tavis snarled, "Was I to become a monk, Sholto? There was no reason to think Storm would return or e'en send word. Should I sit and pine like some untried boy?" He slouched in his chair, looking very much like a sulky little boy. "She isnae pining for me."

  " 'Tis certain that I have no great opinion of the Sassanach gentlemen, but I cannae see them hovering o'er a woman whose belly is swollen with child, another man's child," Iain said dryly, and laughed at the expressions crossing his brother's face. "Aye, and a Scotsman's bairn as well."

  Confusion had changed to realization and then rage inside of Tavis. "Blood and thunder, she did it to me again."

  "Nay, ye do it to yourself, lad," Colin said. " 'Tis easy to see the lass isnae wanton, that she wouldnae hop from man to man, but ye always think the worst. She but plays on that. If ye mean to get her back, ye are going to have to curb your temper, not let her goad ye so."

  Finishing his drink, Tavis stood up. "Ye're right. An I stay calm, she will have to listen to me in the end and then she will see that here is where she belongs." He strode out of the hall with a gait that was amazingly steady considering the amount of drink he had consumed, adding as he went out the door, "If that doesnae work I will simply drag the wench back here by the hair."

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Three weeks passed, winter settling in with an intermittent vengeance. Storm awakened on a stormy morning, instinct telling her that she was going to continue to follow in her mother's footsteps. She had not felt comfortable for many a morning, but somehow this discomfort was different. Nevertheless, with her maid's assistance, Storm rose, dressed and made her way down to the hall. She had seen, even aided in the birth of enough babies to know that there were many hours yet before her work really began.

  By the time the evening meal was laid out, she knew she could no longer hide the fact that she was in labor. Elaine and a number of the women serving in the keep had been watching her so closely that Storm felt sure they would not be surprised. She found it slightly amusing that, due to the celebration of Andrew's birthday, the Fosters were now caught at Hagaleah by the storm. The Fosters and the Eldons always seemed to be together when something momentous happened in either family.

  It was not simply maternal pride that made Storm think of her child's birth as momentous. In but hours, the blood of two warring factions would burst forth united in one living entity. The future heir to the MacLagan stronghold would call the lord of Hagaleah grandfather or, in the far future, uncle. She realized she had continued to be certain that she would have a boy, and smiled crookedly. It would hardly surprise her, what with Colin having three sons and her father having six. Daughters were the rarity in both families.

  "Papa," she said, and then had to clench her teeth as a strong contraction gripped her, revealing that her child's patience had finally run out.

  Silence fell, and every eye was turned toward Storm. Roden Eldon needed no more than one all-encompassing glance to tell him the baby was on its way. He soon had his servants working with the precision of his troops. As Storm tried to stand with Elaine's help, he strode over and picked her up.

  "I have grown a bit large of late, Papa," Storm protested as he carried her along.

  "Left it a bit late to tell us 'twas time," he growled as he mounted the stairs to her rooms.

  Gasping slightly from the pain of another contraction, she said, "I thought I had hours yet."

  "So did your mother and, an I had not taken the stairs two at a time with her in my arms, you could well have been born upon the very table we were seated at tonight."

  As soon as he had lain Storm down upon her bed, Elaine tried to get him to leave, saying, "There is naught for you to do, Roden. 'Tis woman's work from here on.

  Lord Eldon looked scornfully at the young girls bustling around. "Bah! I have brought more babes into the world with these two hands than they have. Begone, the lot of you. I want none here but Lady Elaine, Hilda and myself." He smiled with grim amusement as the maids fled the room.

  Though it was hard to speak with Hilda vigorously removing her clothes and her contractions gaining in strength, Storm said, "Someday they will realize that you are all snarl and no bite, Papa."

  "If they discover it, I will send them packing," he said as he sat on the bed beside her.

  When her next contraction came she was glad of her father's large hand holding hers, and clung to its strength. For a moment she wished he was Tavis, but she forced that thought away. It was no time for sadness or weakening longings. Bringing her child safely into the world would require all her strength and concentration. She could not waste it upon a man who was not there nor wanted to be.

  Seeking to help her keep alert and, with luck, distracted from the pain, Eldon began to tell her tales of his time in France. A number of the tales were not the sort to tell a gently bred lady, but even Hilda refrained from protesting when she saw how well they kept Storm from being caught up in her own pain. Eldon knew that it was more than her pain he had to keep his daughter's thoughts from, that one Tavis MacLagan could not be allowed to haunt her. It was not easy, for he was on the minds of them all.

  "Bearing a child lacks a certain dignity," Storm drawled as Hilda and Elaine peered between her legs yet again.

  Roden laughed. "Most definitely. It will not be long now, Storm. Follow the pain, sweeting. Do not fight against it, for that only makes it harder to bear." He gently bathed her face with a cool, damp cloth.

  " 'Tis torture upon my back," she ground out. "Must I lie so? Can it not be done another way?"

  "Well, a horse stands, but you could kill the babe when he slid out." Lord Roden grinned when Storm gave a weak laugh. "Mayhaps if you got up upon your knees. 'Twould ease your back."

  Hilda and Elaine protested but were ignored. It was awkward, but Storm was soon upon her knees, her father sitting before her to give her both support and something to cling to. Elaine complained that it was not easy to see what was happening, but she admitted that they could manage well enough. Storm was far too pleased to have the pressure off her back to really care if she inconvenienced anyone.

  "Papa, an anything should go wrong ..." she said weakly as the pains began to blend together.

  "Do not speak so, child," Roden scolded softly, hiding his own very real concern, for she was so tiny and the labor was taking so long. " 'Tis bad luck, I am certain."

  "Nay, I must say it. 'Twill ease my mind.

  Ye must take the child to Tavis. He may be a rogue inclined to toss up near every skirt he spies, but he will be a very good father. E'en for a girl. Swear it?"

  "Aye, sweeting, though there is no need. 'Tis merely that you grow weary." The sound of the wind pounding against the walls came to his ears, and he smiled faintly. " 'Twill be as it was with your mother. It was stormi
ng thus when you came into the world. Hilda and I were there to hear your first cry. 'Tis fitting we will do the same for your babe. A grandchild. I begin to feel my years."

  "Never that, Papa. Ye will e'er be young. Ye will no doubt be spry and sour for your grandchildren's children."

  "God forbid. Push now, Storm," he urged even as he felt her whole body begin to work.

  Faintly, Storm realized that she no longer had control. Nature and her body's instincts held the reins. The pain was there, yet she was not fully aware of it. All she did know was the need to push, to strain with every ounce of strength she had and more. Every inch of her was concentrated on birthing her child. She knew when the baby was free of her body and held her breath with the others until a lusty wail filled the room.

  "A sturdy boy, Storm," Eldon announced in a slightly unsteady voice.

  Too tired to speak, Storm nodded and smiled, but even as she did, she knew something was wrong. The contractions should have ceased, yet they were still as strong as ever. Her belly worked as if it still meant to expel a child. She looked at her father's weary face, confusion easy to read upon her own.

  "Something is wrong," she gasped, and watched all the color fade from her father's face. "I do not feel finished."

  Eldon's hands went to her stomach, finding it still hard and large, contractions rippling through it. For a moment he was stunned into speechlessness. Elaine and Hilda sprang to life, and he laughed shakily.

  "You are not finished. There is yet another to be born. I should have realized, you carried so heavy. Be strong, little one, this must surely be the last. Then you can rest and enjoy your accomplishment."

  After her daughter was born Storm thought collapse was what she did, not rest. She stayed limp, her gaze fixed upon her babies as she was washed, the linen changed upon her bed and a clean nightdress put on her. When they were put to her breast one at a time tears filled her eyes. Her heart was filled with a loving wonder even as it was tattered by the pain loving their father had brought her.

  The boy had a thick crop of reddish hair, and she knew she would be impatient to see what color eyes he would have. Her daughter had a mass of black hair and, again, she was anxious to know what color the eyes would be. Although smaller than her brother, the girl looked no less healthy.

  " 'Tis like Tavis and I reversed," she said softly as the twins were laid in the cradle, and then she met her father's worried eyes. "Do not worry. I will survive." She closed her eyes with a sigh, feeling sleep come up on her like some unstoppable tidal wave. "God, I could have loved him so."

  Lord Eldon brushed the hair from her sleeping face. "You will yet, sweeting. You will yet."

  "Do you really think that, Roden?" Elaine asked softly as she moved to his side.

  "Aye, and if Storm had not been so blinded by past hurts she would think it too." He shook his head. "He had no chance in hell of softening her the day they wed, for she caught him in an embrace with the woman who had shared his bed before her." He put an arm around Elaine's shoulders.

  Elaine's eyes filled with tears of sympathy. "Oh, the poor child, to know that blow so soon in life."

  "I could have killed him. Taking her innocence was cause enough, but I knew she spoke the truth when she said he could have had that at any time, with patience could have gained it without even the faintest of refusals, and who am I to condemn a man for taking a woman he desires who does not repulse him? Nay, it was the pain he dealt her that I wanted to kill him for, the pain that she carried night and day. God, e'en then I had no idea of how tortured she was until the ride home the day of her wedding."

  "All children must grow, must suffer. 'Tis life. A parent cannot shelter them from all of life's wounds," she said quietly, trying to ease his sorrow. "What chanced to change your desire to kill him, Roden?"

  "He was in agony, his soul no less tortured than hers, so much so that he could no longer hide it. It was there for all to read. He could see all that he had thrown away and might ne'er regain. I could not run the man through for not knowing his own heart. He had wounded himself enough."

  As they turned to leave the room, Elaine asked, "So what is to happen now?"

  "The weather will hold him in Caraidland until Storm's full strength returns, but then I have no doubt that the man will be battering at the doors. There is a son to think on now."

  "You seem to think it important that Storm is up to her full strength."

  "Aye. 'Twill be no good for either of them if he gains the prize too easily. They must air their feelings and clear up all misunderstandings." He grinned. "Storm shall not be placated easily."

  "Why, Roden, I think you look forward to the confrontation."

  Roden laughed softly. "That I do. Ah, but Storm is glorious in full battle. Now," he said as they entered the hall, "where is that wretched Scot that has been lurking for near to a fortnight?"

  Angus had rather enjoyed his stay at Hagaleah. After a few sore heads and bruised bodies were left behind the men of Lord Eldon's guard treated him like an equal. Though they would probably never fight side by side, he was now rather glad that they would no longer meet sword to sword.

  When Roden was able to break free of relatives, friends and men-at-arms Angus was still in a bemused state over the news. A son for Tavis was all they could have hoped for, but two bairns at one go was near to miraculous. Twice he asked for the news to be repeated, only to shake his head.

  "Has the lass decided on names for the bairns?" Angus asked at last.

  "I imagine so, but she has not told me as yet." Eldon glanced out at the raging storm. "You will know e'er you can set out for Caraidland. I will write a letter for MacLagan that I ask you to give him."

  "He will be here as soon as travel is possible."

  "Aye, he will want to, but he will wait until her lying in is over."

  "Want the lass in fine battle trim, do ye?"

  Roden grinned. "Aye. I do not want those two starting out their marriage with all that is between them."

  "Nay. The board needs clearing, 'tis sure. Weel, soon as the weather clears I will be away. The lad maun be sairly bedeviled ere now, what with nay kenning what is aboot with the wee lass."

  * * * * *

  Bedeviled was a mild word to describe Tavis by the time Angus made the difficult trip back to Caraidland over a week later. He had spent the month anxious to hear news of Storm, any news, but when he saw Angus he did not want to hear anything.

  Clutching the arms of the chair on which he sat, Tavis waited in an agony of apprehension for Angus to enter the hall. Although men were not involved in the birth of children, they were not ignorant of the process or the dangers. Often the screams of the women could be heard far from their origin. Too often for anyone's liking the mother died, either from an inability of anyone to stop the bleeding or a fever that came all too commonly afterward. At times her sacrifice was for nothing, as the babe was stillborn or sickly, lasting not long after its mother.

  All these catastrophes haunted Tavis. He did not recollect her obvious strength or good health, only how small she was. The thought of her lithe frame wracked with pain tortured his dreams. At times he was glad that he would not be there to see, but more often he wanted to be at her side, as if his presence and added strength could ease things for her, hold off the shadows that hung ominously over a child bed.

  When Angus finally entered with a large group at his heels Tavis's tension eased a little. It was not possible that they would smile so if anything were seriously wrong. Angus had grown too fond of Storm to look so gleeful if she had come to harm.

  Because of that and because of the fact that Angus would not have returned to Caraidland unless the baby had been born, Tavis felt excitement stir within himself.

  "Storm?" he choked out when Angus stopped by his chair.

  "The wee lass is fine, though her temper is a wee bit short frae being coddled and forced to play the invalid. An I was leaving, she sent her brother Andrew to his heels, a chamberpot aimed a
t his head."

  "Angus," Tavis groaned, "has she had the bairn?"

  "Aye. Why else would I be here?" Angus judged by Tavis's darkening face that he had teased the young man enough. "Aye, ye hae a son." He waited for the cheers to die down. "A fine, braw laddie he looks tae be. Has red hair and promises tae hae your eyes. She named him Taran, which means thunder in Welsh." He grinned. "Lord Eldon's mother was Welsh. 'Tis her grandfather's name, or is that the grandfather's father? Nay matter. I ken it suits. Lusty cry Taran's got. Truth is he has a string o' names. Taran Roden Colin MacLagan. Lass said it would save some arguments."

  Blindly, Tavis accepted a tankard of ale and was jostled by many a slap on the back. "God, a son."

  "I wasnae finished," Angus bellowed, and the noise faded abruptly.

  "But ye said Storm was all right," said Sholto, voicing the confusion that Tavis felt.

  "Aye, that she is. Looks a wee bit o' a thing, but sturdy as an ox."

  "Then what else is there to say, ye old gowk!" bellowed Colin, losing patience with the man's games.

  "Tavis has hisself a daughter."

  "Curse it, Angus, ye just told me I had a son."

  "Aye, ye do that, but ye hae a daughter as weel. Here now, laddie, taek a wee dram. Ye look peakish."

  Tavis felt peakish. "I have a son and I have a daughter." He took a long drink. "Twins?"

  Angus nodded. "Aye. Twins. The lass has black hair and her eyes look tae be like her mother's. A bit small, but the bairn is hale. Called the bairn Aingeal after her own mother. Aingeal Vanora O'Conner MacLagan. Got your ain mother in there as weel. Bit quieter than the lad she is, but nay meek."

  "She wouldnae dare to be meek with such a set of parents," murmured Colin. "And Storm such a wee lass. 'Tis hard to believe she would bear twins, live, healthy twins. Ye sure, Angus?"