“Very well,” he said. “What do you wish to say?”
She looked at him, then, and summoned her courage. “I wish you to call back your attack. Canaan surrenders.”
He scratched his chin thoughtfully. “You should not have resisted in the first place. Resisters must be punished.”
She visibly paled. “Please do not punish us,” she begged. “My brother is sometimes brash and arrogant, but he is not evil. He truly believes that he is doing what is right for Canaan.”
“Do you?”
She didn’t want to incriminate her brother. Even if he was stubborn, presumptive and self-righteous, still, she would not condemn his actions before de Wolfe.
“He was simply trying to protect us, my lord,” she repeated carefully. “In his mind, he felt that what he was doing was right.”
“That was not my question.” He rose from the stump, his gaze intense. “Do you believe he was doing what was right for Canaan?”
She didn’t answer right away, looking at her shoes. Scott’s gaze lingered on her.
“You will look at me,” he commanded in a low voice. “I require an answer. Based upon that answer, I will either raze Canaan or spare it. Is this clear?”
A bolt of fear and anger shot through Avrielle. His tone was disrespectful and it inflamed her. She glared at him.
“It is, my lord,” she said through clenched teeth. “Aye, I believe his motives were correct.”
It was a mix of incriminating her brother and supporting him. Scott had to admit he was impressed by her clever answer. Their eyes met, a fierce maelstrom of heat and emotion, as he decided which path to take. But the truth was that he’d already decided the moment she’d come forth from the bowels of Canaan. He would spare the castle. But he wasn’t going to tell her that, not yet. Better to let her think he was still in control and not pliable to her wishes.
God help him, he was.
As Avrielle gazed back at Scott, waiting for the decision that would decide her future, she was aware of a dull ache in her back and legs. Ever since the dying soldier had grabbed her on the field, she’d been feeling it. But she realized it was growing from all of the walking and standing she had done. She and Scott stared at each other and she was certain he was trying to intimidate her with his gaze, hazel eyes that were as sharp as razors. But she didn’t falter and she didn’t back away; she continued to meet his gaze, strongly, because it was the only thing she could do.
If Scott thought that his heated gaze would cause her to rethink her answer, he was in for a disappointment. She was certainly brave, just like her son. He admired that quality immensely.
“Nay, you do not believe your brother is correct, but I will not question you further,” he growled after a moment. “He is your brother and it is your duty to support him. I will, therefore, leave Canaan intact. But punishment will take another form.”
She was relieved and terrified at the same time. “What do you mean?”
He wouldn’t answer her. He simply crossed his massive arms, gazing at her steadily as if she should read his mind and know exactly what he was thinking. Avrielle’s irritation surged and she was about to demand his reply when a bolt of pain suddenly plowed through her lower abdomen and down her thighs. She grunted and put a hand to her belly. For a moment, Scott seemed to lose his ever-present smugness. There was genuine concern in his eyes.
“What’s wrong?” he demanded.
Avrielle shook her head, though she felt a tremendous urge to sit. One hand on her enormous stomach, she went in search of a stump. Scott indicated the stump he had been sitting on but he kept his hands to himself as she sat herself heavily. It was difficult to fight the inclination to help her. He knew she would refuse him, anyway.
“Well?” he demanded again. “What’s the matter?”
She shook her head again, though she had a suspicion of what was about to happen. “Nothing, my lord,” she said, sure there was plenty of time before she delivered Nathaniel’s third child. It had taken her ten hours to deliver Sophia and four to deliver Stephen. Besides, there were more important things on her mind at the moment and she knew she must resolve them before she could focus on anything else. “You will please do me the courtesy of answering my question. What form will our punishment take? And why must we be punished at all if I promise there will be no more trouble?”
He gazed down at her, feeling himself waver. But he could show no weakness, he knew that. Once the vassals of Canaan realized de Wolfe was pliable, his control over them would be ended. And for their show of rebellion, he had to be swift and decisive no matter how he felt about the lady.
Soft….
“Although I trust your word as a lady, I am still compelled to punish the insurgents of Canaan,” he said. “I cannot let a show of rebellion go unanswered. I would be ineffective to the crown, and to myself, if I did.”
Avrielle gazed up at him, the way the muted light fell upon his strong features. He was undeniably handsome and she inwardly scolded herself for entertaining such a distraction. She had no business thinking any man attractive, not so soon after the death of her husband.
“But we’ve done nothing outrageous, my lord,” she said in a tone that invited his forgiveness. “You have fought with my brother many times. You know how temperamental he can be. He meant no disrespect, truly, but feels a fierce sense of confusion I should think.”
“Confusion?”
She nodded. “Aye,” she said. “He and the other knights are at a loss without…”
Another pain rocketed through her back and abdomen, nearly bending her in half even as she sat on the stump. Avrielle clutched her stomach and doubled over as a great rush of warm liquid suddenly saturated her gown all around the pelvic region. As a mother of two already, she knew exactly what that meant.
“Damnation.” she roared. “I think…”
To hell with not aiding her. Scott was on his knees beside her as she grunted in pain, wanting to help.
“The child comes?” he asked the obvious.
She eyed him irritably as the pain subsided. “A brilliant assessment, my lord,” she growled. “Now see what you’ve done?”
His eyebrows drew together. “What I’ve done? You would mistake me for your husband, Madam?”
She thought he might take pity on Canaan were he to realize all of the arguing had brought about her labor. “Your talk of punishment has upset me. This child isn’t due for another few weeks yet.”
He pursed his lips. “Blame your brother. Had he not acted like a weak-minded woman, we would not be having this conversation.”
“But you are still going to punish us?”
“I must.”
She didn’t know what more to say. It was apparent his mind was set. Frustrated, embarrassed that her gown was soaked with distinct-smelling birthing fluid, and suddenly feeling just a little bit anxious, she thought that perhaps now was a good time to return to the castle and remove herself from de Wolfe’s presence. But there was so much pressure in her pelvis that she was positive she was going to drop the child here and now. In fact, as she struggled to stand, she realized she was about to do just that.
“Oh, no,” she gasped.
“Now what’s wrong?” Scott asked, though he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
She looked up at him and he could read her fear. “The child comes, my lord.”
“I think we have already established that.”
“Now.”
His eyebrows lifted in shock; he couldn’t help it. “Now?”
She nodded firmly. “Aye.”
“There is no time to…?”
She cut him off, shaking her head firmly. “I cannot make it back to Canaan. You must trust me in this matter. I have already given birth to two children; I know what it feels like.”
There wasn’t much Scott could say to that. If the woman said that the birth was imminent, he would believe her. To say that he was a bit surprised was an understatement, but as a man who had once be
en a competent healer, he knew he had to form a plan of action. He couldn’t just stand there like an idiot. After a split second of indecision, he ripped the cloak from her shoulders and spread it upon the moldering leaves.
“Lay down,” he commanded softly.
Avrielle was momentarily indecisive about his command until another contraction hit and the urge to bear down swept her. Seeing that she was having trouble moving, Scott reached out and with gentleness he’d not tapped into in years, helped her down onto the cloak.
Lying back against the green brocade of the cloak Nathaniel had given her, Avrielle’s mind was whirling with pain and dread and anxiety. She waited for Scott to run off in search of his surgeon, but he remained by her side, watching her without fear. In fact, he seemed quite comfortable watching her suffer and she eyed him warily.
“Well?” she asked. “Where is your physic? Aren’t you going to summon him?”
Scott shook his head. “He is tending my wounded, men far worse off than you. I shall attend you myself.”
She frowned fiercely and pushed herself up on her elbows. “I think not.”
He cocked an eyebrow. “Do you plan to give birth by yourself, then? Shall I turn my back while you shoot this child out like the cork from a bottle?”
Avrielle scowled, but slowly, she lay back down. “Turn your back and do not watch,” she said threateningly. “I’ll not have you… looking at me. ’Tis not proper, childbirth or no.”
“I’ve looked betwixt a woman’s legs before.”
“But you’ve not looked betwixt mine before.”
Without another word, Scott turned his back on her and she was struck with another contraction that brought her legs up with the sheer force of it. Behind him, Scott could hear her grunt and groan.
“Damnation.” she howled. “I can feel this child coming. He pushes and pokes like an old bear.”
Scott kept his back to her, though it was difficult. He was growing weary of her foolishness. “If I was permitted to look, I could tell you how imminent the birth is.”
Sweat began to pop out on her forehead. “And how would you know such things?”
“Because I was a fairly decent healer, once. A man I’ve known since birth trained me.”
“Who is this fool?”
“His name is Paris de Norville. And he is no fool.”
“So you know how to bring forth a child?”
“Among other things.”
Avrielle started to shake her head when another pain hit and she let out a loud moan. This one was long and strong and seemed to take over her entire body. When it was over, she went limp. “Oh, God, help me,” she gasped. “This is all happening too hard, too fast.”
Scott had enough of her ridiculous behavior. As a child, he’d shown an interest in healing. Paris, the man who would eventually be his father-in-law, took Scott under his wing. Paris trained de Wolfe in the healing arts because Paris, long ago, had also been taught by an uncle. He was simply passing down the skill to a young man who had shown great potential. But Scott hadn’t used his skills since that dark day four years ago. He couldn’t use his talents to save his family and the guilt that had consumed him had turned him off of ever healing again.
Until now.
Now, he was needed. There wasn’t anyone else who could possibly help and, in spite of having turned his back on his skills, he realized that he was willing to be of use again. Healing came naturally to him and it was difficult to resist the pull. Turning around, he threw up her skirts only to be faced with a good deal of blood and an infant’s head, half-emerged.
“Christ,” he growled. “Madam, this child is arriving.”
Avrielle didn’t reply. She was caught up in the swiftest, strongest pain she had ever known. Having no swaddling or clean water, or anything else for that matter, Scott was forced to think very quickly.
Grabbing the hem of her woolen garment, he tore off a great section and set it aside. He had a razor-sharp dirk sheathed in his breeches. Pulling it free, he put it within easy reach on the extended cloak. As great as any battle he had ever faced, he could feel the familiar rush of excitement filling his veins. Healing was something, once, he’d felt he’d been born to do and he was in his element as much as when was in the heat of battle. He was ready. Those skills, dormant these years because he’d been unable to use them on his dead wife and children, were aching to come forth again.
For the moment, he would let them.
Perhaps this time, he could save a life.
Another pain hit and Avrielle cried out softly, rising up from the cloak and nearly bending in half. She knew what was expected of her and she bore down, edging the infant out. Scott spoke reassuringly to her, so caught up in the moment that it took him some time before he realized he was stroking her head, rubbing her leg, anything to distract her from the pain. Another contraction and the infant literally popped forward, exposed from the waist up. Scott calmly cleaned out the child’s mouth and nose, and put his hands on the tiny body, preparing to pull it free. The final pain hit and the child slid out in its entirety, right into his waiting hands.
“Dear God,” Avrielle gasped, falling back on the cloak. “Is it breathing? Is it alive?”
For the second time that day, Scott de Wolfe was smiling. He simply couldn’t help himself. He wiped off the child’s face and cut the cord with his dagger, rubbing the feet briskly as the child let out a wail. Wrapping the babe tightly in the torn piece of linen, he then handed the wailing babe to the eager mother.
“A daughter, Madam,” he said softly. “You have a new daughter.”
Avrielle clutched the mewling babe, shocked and amazed and exhausted. “Sweet Jesus,” she murmured. “How quickly she has come. Look how lovely she is!”
As Avrielle fawned over her new daughter, Scott delivered the afterbirth in one piece and tossed it aside. He didn’t look too closely at Avrielle’s privates but, from what he saw, she didn’t look any worse for the wear and the bleeding seemed to be minimal. She was fortunate. Truthfully, he was more caught up in the warmth and joy of the moment, remembering the same feelings from when his own children were born. There was such elation to a healthy birth, the continuation of life, and well did he remember that jubilation. It brought back memories he’d suppressed for years, memories he had run from, but now memories that were giving him just the slightest amount of comfort. He’d forgotten there was such happiness in the world.
He’d missed it.
“Indeed, she is lovely,” he agreed, his focus on the dark-haired infant. “She is small but seems healthy enough. She certainly screams loudly enough. That is a good sign.”
Avrielle inspected the flailing hands, counting the fingers. “Sophia was a small child,” she said, a gentleness in her tone. “But Stephen was quite large.”
Scott watched the angry baby wave her red hands about. “My sons were monstrous,” he said.
Avrielle, as weary and elated as she was, did not fail to recall what Nathaniel had told her, that de Wolfe had lost most of his family to a tragedy. But not all of them. “You have sons?”
“Two.”
“How old?”
“Fourteen years and twelve years.”
“They are almost men grown.”
“They are.”
That was as far as Avrielle’s curiosity went for the moment. Exhausted, she snuggled down with the baby, inspecting the ears and nose. Scott watched her, now fighting off a deeper sense of compassion. It was so strange, having eliminated all feeling from his life for the past four years, to finally allow himself to feel something. More and more, he realized that part of him was not dead, as he’d hoped. Or perhaps he didn’t hope. At the moment, all he knew was that somehow, someway, he felt alive again.
Needed.
“What will you name her?” he asked.
Avrielle’s voice was quiet. “Sorsha,” she said, playing with the infant’s fingers. “Nathaniel chose the name. I… I wish he was here to see her. I wish it wi
th all my heart.”
Scott wondered if the birth of the child was going to throw her back into the madness of grief somehow. Well did he understand how crippling it was. “I am sure that wherever he is, he knows that his child has been born,” he said, trying to be of some comfort. “Someone told me once that the people we love never really die; they are all around us, in the trees, the wind, the birds. They have become part of the very fabric around us.”
Avrielle looked up at him, hearing something wistful in his tone, perhaps remembering that family he had lost.
“Do you believe that?” she asked.
Scott lingered on what his father had told him years ago when the man had been trying to pull him out of his devastating grief. Look around you, Scott. Athena and the children are still here. You can feel them in everything about you.
Did he believe it? Probably not. He was a practical man and if he couldn’t see it, or touch it, then it wasn’t real. His family had gone to Heaven and that was what he believed. He didn’t believe they were surrounding him, kissing him with butterfly wings or embracing him with a gentle breeze. They were gone and he was empty. But he couldn’t bring himself to tell Avrielle that, a woman who understood sorrow as he understood it. The death of a spouse was shattering, indeed, and he couldn’t take a small measure of hope away from her.
Hope that all was not lost, after all.
“Mayhap,” he said after a moment. “If it comforts you to believe that, then you should.”
Avrielle smiled faintly, looking back at the baby in her arms. “I would like to believe it,” she said softly. “I would like to feel that I am not so alone in this world. Since Nathaniel’s death, even with my children, I have felt so… alone.”
Scott understood that implicitly. As she lay there with the baby, she began to shake with chill and Scott went into action. He wrapped her up in her cloak but that didn’t seem to be enough. He could have built a fire but, after the rain of the previous night, everything was damp and it would take time to find dry kindling. Therefore, he did the next best thing, putting his arms around her to use his body heat to warm her. There was really no other reason than that, at least not in his mind. She was cold and he sought to warm her. Her head was against his neck and as he watched, she moved her gown aside to expose a full breast.
The Original de Wolfe Pack Complete Set: Including Sons of de Wolfe Page 180
