by Mary McCall
"For what?” Ian's frown changed to one of concern.
Hope wondered if perhaps he was thinking that she gave up too easily; that she wasn't the brazen hoyden whom he'd encountered in the past; that maybe she was actually a vulnerable woman in distress.
"Would you tell me how I can help?"
When she did not answer, he walked over and placed a hand on her arm. “I truly wish to know."
"I'm weak from a recent ague. I have reason to believe the babe will come early. I expect a difficult labor that...I may not survive it. I do not wish to burden Leonce. He is already so worried about me.” Hope raised a desperate expression. “If anything happens to me, I want you and Cassie here. Leonce will need a good friend, and Cassie will know more than our midwife about helping a fragile babe survive. I know—"
"What the hell goes on here!"
At the furious bellow, they turned. Leonce stood by the entrance, braced for battle with eyes blazing. Freya hovered behind him.
"Leonce, I—"
"I heard you sent him a red ribbon, wife. Is something wrong that I should know about?"
Hope's eyes filled with tears as she bowed her head. “'Twas my mistake, Leonce. I mistook the color. ‘Twas purple. Apparently purple also lets Cass know she is safe."
"You'll not yell at my lady again, Ian,” Leonce threatened.
"Aye.” Ian nodded once, acknowledging the threat of feud. “I'm glad to find her safe. My lady will rejoice. She has been fretting since the first snow."
"Leonce, how is Courageous?” Hope asked.
Leonce relaxed his stance. “He'll be here soon. I'm moving him below with the single warriors until we can build a new hut in the spring."
"Did you know our ladies made a pact?” Ian asked.
Leonce raised a suspicious brow.
"They agreed they'll be at each other's birthings from now on. I'll agree if you have no objections, but considering the season, I'll insist on accompanying Cass."
Leonce nodded. “I agree. You're both welcome. The babe comes in three weeks."
"Cass will not calm till she lays eyes on your lady. Would it be a hardship if we arrive in the next few days?"
"Nay. Hope will feel better with her friend nearby."
"Would you both like something to warm yourselves?” Hope smiled. “Leonce, you appear near frozen, and The Fraser has a cold ride home."
"I'll change first and return shortly.” Leonce ascended the stairs.
"I'll get the whisky, milady.” Freya dashed across the hall to the buttery.
Hope turned to Ian and placed a hand on his arm. “My thanks, Fraser. ‘Tis the second heavy burden you have lifted from my mind."
He raised a brow. “The second?"
"Aye. I was terror-stricken until we first met, and I saw how good you treat Cassie. Never having killed a man, I was fretting my first might have to be a cursed hulk.” She grinned.
Ian laughed. “'Tis glad I am Leonce wed you, or you might have started your own clan."
"May do that yet, Fraser. We'll raise Clydesdales.” After his chuckles ceased, she held out a hand. “I would like the ribbon if you have it."
Ian pulled the scarlet ribbon from his pouch and handed it to her, his expression serious. “I never disliked you, Lady MacPherson, and I pray God is merciful and your fears unwarranted."
"'Tis my prayer too. Still, I hope you'll badger heaven. Mayhap the Good Lord will tire of us and grant my favor just so we'll leave Him alone."
Courageous, Aonghus and Bertie entered the hall. Hope moved away, seeing to the needs of her clansmen. Ian looked at her with respect in his eyes for the solicitude and patience she proffered to the disfigured young man whom most people ridiculed.
"Aye, Lady MacPherson,” he whispered. “I'll badger heaven for you. I'll even gain help from someone who already has one foot inside the gates."
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Chapter Forty-Seven
* * * *
Someone would die today. Hope hadn't picked her victim, but the list was narrowed to two. She peered through narrowed eyes across the hall at her husband and her friend arguing over what she needed. Neither of them realized she needed five minutes alone without their suffocating attention so she could sort out her frantic thoughts.
Ian held half the responsibility for her turmoil. The day after their pact, he deposited Cassie and wee Ian inside the front door and left, saying he would return soon. Four days passed, and a blizzard swirled outside. Possessing respect for the Highland climate, Hope worried over his survival. Cassie kept occupied by showering Hope with constant care and conversation, but Hope felt overwhelmed.
Whenever Cassie left her to see to wee Ian, Leonce came with his ever-increasing frown. He constantly questioned whether she was telling him the truth about feeling well. Her labor commenced the past night, and she wasn't telling anyone until the last moment for fear of being forced to bed and smothered with even more cursed attention. Besides, her lower back was giving her fits. Going to bed would only make her hurt worse.
The babes weren't in the right position, increasing her anxiety. Discomfort from the well-spaced drawing pains lessened if she walked and massaged her belly, praying the babes would turn in the right direction.
Cassie told Leonce that Hope needed more time in the hall. Leonce insisted she return to their chamber for a nap. Bloody rot! ‘Twas only midmorn! She might quit trying to choose and kill them both.
"Zounds! Would you both cease your cursed blathering and listen to what I say I need!"
Hope had acted outwardly calm and patient over the last few days, constantly reassuring them, so her outburst fell as an unexpected sword between the pair, who gaped at her.
"Cassie, go spend time with your son. He loves Freya, but he would surely enjoy attention from his mother right now."
"Are you certain, Hope?” Worry scrunched Cassie's elfin brow.
Hope sighed, ashamed of her outburst. “Aye, please give me an hour."
Cassie went above stairs. Feeling amber eyes scrutinize her, Hope looked at her husband.
"Is it your intention to order me out as well?"
"Nay, I have a more torturous task for you.” She walked toward him and stopped behind her story chair without breaking eye contact. “'Tis the truth. I do like the way your hands make me feel when you rub my back."
"Do you now?” His smile reached his eyes for the first time in days.
"Aye, Lion, and the weight of your cub is nagging my back. Think you might relieve it while I hold on to the slat of the chair?"
"Never let it be said that the lion denied his mate.” Leonce moved behind her and massaged her back.
Her eyes closed, her head tilted back, and she let go a low moan from her mouth. “Ah, Leonce, ‘tis as good as mating."
"I'm glad to give you satisfaction, but this doesn't relieve my suffering. You've been without too long if you think ‘tis as good."
"Want me to mix up some of old Elda's secret recipe?"
"Nay. I'll wait till my lioness is not so weak and crowded inside."
Hope let go of the chair and turned to face him, belly to belly with her hands splayed on his chest. “Want to go upstairs? There are other ways a lioness can satisfy her mate, and her own appetite might be appeased."
"Nay, love. I'll wait.” He kissed her forehead and put his arms around her, resuming the backrub.
She leaned into his chest. Her belly tightened with another contraction. Not wanting Leonce alerted, she jerked backward and would have fallen if he hadn't caught her arms.
"Are you all right?” he asked in alarm.
"Aye, Leonce. I just—"
Driven by the blizzard's raging wind, the front door slammed against the inner wall. Ian entered, carrying a huge, unfamiliar-plaid bundle over his shoulder and walked toward them.
Leonce scowled. “Where have you been, Ian? Our ladies are worried sick."
"Raiding."
Hope glowered. “In this weather!
I wasted my frettin’ on a daft man!"
"'Tis mild yet, Lady MacPherson, and I wanted to get you a birthing present.” Halting in front of her, Ian lowered one end of the huge bundle, and Hope noticed it had feet. “I hope you like it."
She reached forward, peeled away the plaid, and gasped. Before her stood an angry, silver-headed, frocked giant with hands bound and mouth gagged. “Bloody rot, Fraser! Do you not know ‘tis a mortal sin to steal a priest!” Hope pulled her dirk, and the cleric's hazel eyes widened. “Do not fear, Father. I mean to free you."
As Hope sawed on the binding, Ian turned a troubled frown toward Leonce. “She doesn't seem pleased."
Leonce shrugged. “She is breeding."
"She is bloody furious!” Hope finished cutting the rope. The tall priest pulled the gag from his mouth, drawing her attention to the trim on his frock. “You have a red braid! Zounds, Fraser! He's not just a priest. He's a bishop! I'm sure you get double time in purgatory for raiding away a bishop! I apologize for him, Your Excellency. He is a half-witted hulk from another clan and does not understand his cursed error. What is your name?"
Leonce frowned. “Hope, do not apologize for Ian."
"Joseph Cardinal Brodie,” the prelate intoned, rubbing his chafed wrists.
"Cardinal! Fraser, you are daft! He is an eminence! I'm bloody certain stealing an eminence sends you straight to hell!” Hope grabbed the cardinal's arm and tugged him toward the hearth. “Come by the fire, Your Eminence. I will deal with The Fraser after you are warm."
"You'll not deal with The Fraser, wife. Now calm down."
"Calm down! How can I calm down when my best friend's husband is going to hell?” She narrowed accusing eyes at Ian.
"I confess, Cardinal. I stole you, but I thought ‘twas only a mortal sin if I struck you or killed you.” Ian turned toward Hope. “I have confessed. Does that calm you?"
"Oh bloody rot! I almost forgot.” Hope grabbed the cardinal's forearms for support and lowered to her knees. She bowed her head and placed her right hand over her heart, still clutching the cardinal's arm with her other hand. “Your Eminence, your presence honors all the MacPher—"
"What are you doing, Hope?” Leonce hastened toward her and reached for her arms. “You're in no condition to be on the floor."
She leaned away. “Wait, Leonce! He is a prince, even higher than our king. His liege is God. I wish his blessing afore our babe comes."
Leonce inclined his head toward the prelate. “Would you bless her?"
Cardinal Brodie looked from Leonce to Ian to Hope, with a look that suggested he was wondering whether he had been taken from the Highlands into the daftlands. “She'll have to let go of my right arm. I use it for blessing."
"Wait, Your Eminence! Leonce, you must kneel too.” She turned earnest eyes toward the cardinal. “We didn't have a priest at our wedding, so we need our marriage blessed. He told me ‘twas valid, but as long as you are here, ‘twould ease my mind."
The cardinal's eyes twinkled with the look of experience gained over many years of reassuring numerous brides on this point. “Were there two Christian witnesses?"
"Aye, Your Eminence.” Hope nodded.
"And did you both enter into this union willingly?” he asked kindly.
"Not exactly,” she replied with a worried frown.
"What!” The cardinal flashed thunderous eyes toward Leonce.
Hope raised a contrite face as if she were preparing for a full confession. “'Tis the truth, he tricked me, though I didn't mind later that night when he—"
"I'll kneel!” Leonce lowered himself beside Hope, slipped an arm about her waist, and hauled her against his side, so she could release the man's blessing arm. “Can we get on with this? I don't like my lady on her knees in her condition."
"Join your right hands."
Leonce watched Hope bow her head as Cardinal Brodie intoned Latin words and waved his arm over them in the sign of the cross. Coming to the end, he reverted to Gaelic and commanded them, “Go forth, be fruitful and multiply."
Hope raised impish eyes and patted her belly. “We have bloody well started with that part."
Leonce kissed her to shut her up, then stood and lifted her to her feet.
Hope turned toward Ian and favored him with a joyful smile. “'Tis still a cursed sin to steal a priest, Fraser, but I thank you for this wonderful gift. I'll find Freya so she can bring whisky and cider, then see to preparing a chamber for our esteemed guest."
"You will let someone else do all the work, Hope,” Leonce ordered.
"Aye,” she agreed. “I have another upcoming labor to save my energy for. You can help, though. We need a screen and small fire set up in the far corner so everyone can confess in private and be warm. You can go first, Leonce.” Hope turned and walked toward the stairs. “'Twill relieve my fretting for your soul. I have to go last, beca—"
"God Almighty, forgive me and make this apparition disappear!” All eyes turned toward Aonghus, who, upon entering with Bowyn, fell upon his knees, clasped his hands together, and turned his face upward with his eyes closed. “I'm a sinner, Lord. But ‘twas a simple prank to get the chief away and appease his lady. And Courageous volunteered his hut. But I'm sorry, Lord. Please, when I open my eyes, don't let me be seeing the Holy Brodie!” Aonghus glared at the cardinal. “'Tis more penance than I should be forced to suffer."
"Arrant Aonghus MacPherson!” The cardinal scowled. “'Twould seem ‘tis my penance the Almighty is seeing to."
"Who let a Brodie into this keep?” Aonghus asked of the room at large. “We're feuding with that clan."
"Aonghus, stop your blathering and show His Eminence respect,” Hope ordered, hands on hips. “He is my birthing gift from The Fraser."
"Quick, Chief, toss Justice afore The Fraser. We'll feud with them too."
"We'll bloody well not feud with The Fraser, Aonghus MacPherson, and if—"
Leonce dropped an arm about her shoulder. “Calm down, Hope. Aonghus is jesting."
"'Tis a poor jest,” she said in a pouty voice.
"'Tis all right, Lady MacPherson. Aonghus never has shown me any respect. Wouldn't have been such good friends if he had.” The cardinal smiled. “What have you been up to all these years, Aonghus?"
Aonghus stood and grinned. “Sinning and enjoying it. How about you?"
"Forgiving sinners. Finally did enough time with the good Christians in Rome, so I convinced Gregory ‘twas best to send me back to these hills where sinners like yourself abound. I may decide to spend the rest of the winter with this clan and see to your salvation."
Hope snorted. “Leonce, I've changed my mind. Aonghus can go last. Our babe will arrive afore he finishes listing all his sins."
"Do you know something about Courageous's roof that you should tell me?” Leonce said, raising a stern brow.
"I would rather tell the cardinal.” Hope took a step backward.
"H—o—p—e.” He drew out her name.
"Should not break the seal of the sacrament.” She took another step.
Leonce crossed his arms. “You have not confessed yet."
"I'm trying to calm down, Leonce. ‘Tis bad for me to be upset right now. Think you might need a yellow ribbon if I tell?"
Leonce sighed. “Go find Freya. I'll hear it from Aonghus."
"May not want to hear it at all,” she warned.
Leonce cocked a don't-you-dare-say-another-word brow.
"Just remember I love you, and you love me back.” Hope went upstairs and found Freya with Cassie. Hearing the news of Ian's return with the cardinal, both women rushed out, leaving Hope alone with the Fraser heir who slumbered on a pelt by the hearth. Hope smiled at the cherub's face, then paced and massaged her belly, still trying to rotate her babes. A few moments later, she heard gurgling and turned. Wee Ian was crawling toward the fire.
"Nay!” Her shout startled the babe, and he looked up. “Come to me, wee Ian."
The toddler laughed and turned back toward th
e dancing flame show. Leaning over sideways, Hope managed to push him back.
"What do you think you're doing?” Ian bellowed.
Hope tried to turn as she rose and lost her balance. Ian caught her and pulled her against his side. She clutched his arm. “I'm glad you're here. The babe tried to crawl into the flames."
"Oh Lord, Hope, I'm sorry.” Cassie rushed in and picked up her son. “We heard your shout on the way up. I did not think when you told me Ian—"
"Do not fret. You were excited about seeing your husband. I would do the same.” Hope pushed away from Ian. “I'll go find out how much longer ‘twill be afore I can talk to the cardinal."
* * * *
Ian watched Hope leave the chamber and then turned toward his wife. “Give me wee Ian, and go to her."
"What's wrong?"
"Her pains have started. I felt her belly tensing afore she pulled away."
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Chapter Forty-Eight
* * * *
The company gathered around the great hearth that evening. Leonce watched Hope's serene expression and frowned. She had been moody and tense all day. Hardly a bite passed her lips during their meal. Whenever he tried to get near her, she thought of some errand she insisted only she could do. Her hands rubbed her belly, and every few minutes her smile widened, nearly splitting her face. Ian and Cassie had watched her with worried frowns all afternoon.
Her current smile relaxed. She took a deep breath and turned that damn mask toward him. “Leonce, could we go feed my beauty an apple?"
His gaze dropped to her belly.
"Please? I'll wrap warm."
"Aye, but I'll carry you. I'll not have your feet in the snow.” Something flashed in her eyes, but ‘twas gone so fast that he couldn't read the emotion.
"I will get our heavy plaids.” She began heaving up from the chair. Leonce crossed over and lifted her to her feet. She smiled her gratitude and turned. Eight pelts and plaids dangled in front of her from outstretched hands. Leonce accepted a plaid and two pelts and wrapped them around her. Draping an additional plaid around his shoulders, he cradled her in his arms and pulled his blanket around them both.
