by Mary McCall
Hope's eyes grew huge. “You think me a glutton?"
He smiled and sat beside her. “I intend to share this banquet. I've not eaten since taking you to give Diable an apple. Jeannie left the feast for us in case we got desperate."
They ate in silence until they were sated. Leonce removed the tray to a table. A whimper sounded from the crib. “Are you ready for number two?"
She nodded and eagerly held out her arms for her second son. Leonce resumed his seat on the edge of the bed and watched as she repeated the cleaning ritual. Then she offered her other breast to the babe, who proved as vigorous as his brother.
"Can we call him Artair, Chief?” Hope asked warily.
Leonce raised a brow. “You would bring a bear into a lion's den? And why do you ask your chieftain and not your husband?"
She caught her lower lip between her teeth and raised cautious eyes. “'Tis my father's name. I know he is your enemy, so I'll understand if you say nay. But he is the one who named me Angelaspera. He and my mother hoped their union and child would unite their clans. He spent the last nineteen years searching for us—only to learn she is dead and I'm beyond his reach. Though he'll never see his grandson, ‘twould mean much to me."
Leonce caressed her cheek. “Artair is a fine name. Our son shall carry it well."
She favored him with a winsome smile. “My thanks, Leonce."
"How long did you know you were having twins?"
"Sure you want an answer to that?"
"Aye, and I promise I'll not need a yellow ribbon."
Hope sighed and looked toward wee Leonce in the crib, then toward Artair at her breast. “Since the day the hut caved in on Courageous. ‘Twas the reason the incident was contrived."
"Aonghus knew?” Leonce asked with a hint of irritation in his voice. He reached over and rubbed Artair's tiny hand until the bairn gripped his finger.
"Nay.” Hope caught his hand. “I was concerned about you, because you were so worried about me. I wished to find you a diversion. When I realized they were twins, I feared you would worry more. I was terrified. Kendra is so new as a midwife. Cassie and I truly had talked about attending each other's births. Though she has no great experience, I could trust her to do what needed to be done if I prepared her."
"So the accident was to get me out of the way long enough to get a message to Lady Fraser?"
"Nay. You truly needed a diversion, but the message was for The Fraser. I needed his permission for Cassie to come. I also wanted you to have a good friend here if I did not make it. And he lied. The ribbon was red."
"You told Ian you were having twins, but not me,” he said, sounding annoyed with her.
"I did not even tell Cassie until after I was confined.” She tightened her grip on his hand. “Please understand, Leonce. I had become so weak. If I had not kept walking and building up my strength, then I might not have survived. I feared you would make me rest more. I was careful not to overdo. And I did try to talk Aonghus out of the roof collapse, but he got excited when Courageous volunteered his hut."
"Aye. I know Aonghus.” He stroked her cheek. “I wish you had told me. I would like to think that if you had explained the need to keep walking, I would have listened."
Artair finished his meal, and Hope released Leonce's hand. She held the babe up to her shoulder and patted his back. “You're right. You probably would have listened. But I was so overwhelmed that I wasn't thinking straight. Please forgive me for underrating you. I'll not do so again."
"All between us is forgiven, love. I just wanted to understand your reason.” Artair belched, and Leonce smiled. “He sounds like a bear."
Hope cradled Artair in one arm, caressing his cheek with the back of a finger. “Are you full, my wee one? Aye, I can see you're sleepy. ‘Tis a bloody big yawn. We'll put you back with your brother after you fall asleep. And be happy you have a brother. I never knew mine, and I was all alone. But you'll never be alone. You have an older brother, named Bertie, and you have your father and me. We are your family, so you'll grow up well loved and cared for. Soon I'll tell you stories and teach you fun games, and your father will train you to be a fierce warrior."
"He is asleep, Hope."
"I know. I enjoy holding him."
"You can do that later.” Leonce stood and stretched. “We both need rest."
"Aye, sheer willpower is the only thing propping my eyes open.” Hope tossed him a playful grin. “But I'll not fall asleep without my backrub."
"Give me our son so I can move the bairns closer to the fire. Then I will come satisfy your needs,” he said in a martyred tone.
Hope handed over Artair. “Wish time would fly so you could satisfy all of my needs."
"You'll get no argument from me. And afore you ask, I do not need any of old Elda's damned recipe."
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Fifty-One
* * * *
Four days after the twins were born, a ruckus from below awoke Hope from an afternoon nap. She glanced about the chamber and discovered herself alone for the first time since her confinement began. She grinned and slid her feet down to the freezing floor. Pulling the bed plaid around her shoulders and over her shift, she staggered to the hearth and peeked into the crib.
Zounds! ‘Twas empty! Where were her babes! Driven by fear for her offspring, she urged her wobbly legs toward the door. Tears flowed as she struggled with the heavy portal. She finally pulled it open wide enough to slip through. Her total attention was focused on finding and protecting her sons.
Bracing against the wall, Hope forced one foot in front of the other and arrived at the bottom of the steps. Warriors filled the hall, facing the high table. She couldn't see over the gigantic Highlanders. Fear for her sons mounted.
Her husband's voice rang out, but in her frantic search, Hope paid no heed to his words. Responding cheers waved over her in a tidal cacophony. She covered her ears, sobbing as fright, frustration and fatigue engulfed her.
Darach rushed to her. “Lady MacPherson, what happened?"
"My bairns...I cannot find my bairns!” Hope shook her head and clutched the warrior's arm for support.
"They are here, milady,” Darach said. “The chief is claiming them."
"'Tis our lady!” Marc cried out. The clansmen turned toward her en masse and knelt, offering tribute.
With the men now below her shoulder, Hope saw Leonce standing on the head table with a babe in each arm. Relief buckled her knees. Darach caught her elbow and held her upright.
Leonce handed the twins to Cassie and Freya and leapt from the table. He rushed to Hope and lifted her in his arms. She leaned her damp face into his neck.
"What are you doing, Hope? You shouldn't be up yet."
"I could not find our bairns. I...I became so cursed frantic,” she stammered, and then hiccupped.
"They're safe with me.” He kissed her brow. “I was claiming them afore the clan. Then Cardinal Brodie is going to baptize them."
"Oh, Leonce, I knew you would not let harm come to them.” She met his gaze. “I don't know what came over me. I wondered where they were and had to find them."
"Here they are, Hope,” Cassie said. “They're both well."
Hope glanced toward Cassie and Freya, who held the infants in view.
"Let's get you upstairs, love. I'll bring them to you soon.” Leonce turned toward the stairs.
"Wait, Leonce.” She placed a palm against his cheek, and he halted. “I would like to stay for the baptisms."
"I don't—"
"Tell him, Cassie.” Hope glared at her friend. “'Tis the truth, Leonce, I only needed a few days in bed. Cassie added the extra ones because she is overprotective."
Cassie rolled her eyes. “You're calling me overprotective when you came down here, half dressed, looking for your babes?"
"Tell him,” Hope ordered.
Cassie sighed. “Hope is right, MacPherson. I added extra days, because I was worried about her. She will be fine fo
r the short while the baptisms take.” She frowned at Hope. “Though she truly should not be doing stairs yet."
"Please, Leonce?” Hope lifted pleading bonnie blue eyes to his.
"You'll sit till ‘tis over,” he ordered curtly. “Then I am taking you to bed."
"I promise.” She petted his cheek. “Who did you pick to be godparents?"
"I didn't,” he admitted gruffly.
Hope snorted. “Then we can have Cassie and The Fraser stand for the first and let Freya and Aonghus stand for the second."
"Freya and Aonghus are not wed."
"Yet,” she whispered. “'Tis all a matter of trickery, husband."
Hope glanced toward Aonghus. He hovered near Freya, crooning over Artair. “'Tis the truth, Aonghus, you would make a fine godfather if you could come off your cursed laurels and wed Freya."
Freya gasped, and Aonghus raised solemn eyes toward Leonce. “You would let me be godfather to this wee bairn, Chief?"
"Aye, Aonghus.” Leonce suppressed a grin.
"'Tis too bad the Church only allows married couples the honor,” Hope added, wearing her I'm-the-most-innocent-person-in-the-world face.
The elder's gaze darted about the hall, seeking escape. His eyes landed back on Artair, and his expression softened. His bushy brows drew together in determination. “Freya, you're mine now."
"Are you sure, Aonghus?” Freya held her breath.
"Aye. Been meaning to do this for a while anyway,” he admitted crossly. “And I'll not be letting you say nay."
A radiant smile flowered across Freya's face, allowing the beauty that was hers in youth to blossom forth again. “I'll be saying aye."
"Then let's go find the Holy Brodie and get this cursed shackle in place afore he baptizes our godson.” Aonghus hauled Freya and Artair across the hall toward the cardinal.
Leonce chuckled. “Poor, Aonghus. He never stood a chance against you."
"Of course not.” Hope smirked. “I learned about trickery from the best."
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Fifty-Two
* * * *
The next morning Cassie and Ian went home. Hope double-checked the twins and, satisfied they slumbered peacefully, left them in the care of Garia, Bowyn's young sister, who had agreed to help with the babes. Hope made her way downstairs and glanced around the hall, but could not find Bertie.
Harry was perched above the hearth, keeping guard over the huge chamber and warming his feathers. After greeting the eagle and petting him, Hope surveyed the hall. Freya had told her the boy was here.
"Have you seen Bertie, Harry?"
The eagle cawed. Hope looked toward the head table and sensed something move underneath, behind the bench. She went to stand near the table. “Bertie, is it a game that you hide from me?” No answer came, and she frowned. “Are you angry with me?"
She heard a muffled whimper. “Bertie, are you hurt? Come out and tell me what is wrong."
"Nay!” Bertie sniffed. “Go see your cursed sons and leave me be."
"I just saw two of my sons, but my eldest is hiding and has avoided me for nearly five days.” Hope moved closer to the bench.
"I'm not your son!” he snapped. His voice took on a vulnerable tenor. “'Twas just a game. You do not need a no-good filthy bastard now that you got real sons."
"'Twas not just pretend. You're my real son even if I did not birth you. There is a special place in my heart where I keep love just for you. You wound me if you think I do not need you."
Another audible sniff came from under the table.
"I bloody well need your help now.” She placed her hands on her hips and toughened her tone. “You think to deny me?"
"What do you need from me?” Bertie asked in a skeptical voice.
"I'm lonely. Your brothers are precious, but their conversation is cursed limited."
"They are only my half brothers."
"They were both whole babies the last time I checked. Are you going to come out and act like a decent son, or are you going to wound my heart?"
"Will you tell me a story?” The request sounded forlorn.
"If you'll visit with your brothers for one hour every day."
"The one about the lion and the mouse?"
Hope stifled a grin. “Are you going to visit your brothers?"
"Can my story time be different than my brother time?"
"'Twill have to be, for your brothers have not yet developed the keen minds necessary to appreciate my tales."
Bertie's wet face appeared under the bench.
"Are you coming out the rest of the way, or are you going to make me drag you?"
Crawling out from under the table, Bertie kept his eyes downcast. He stood and scuffed a toe in the rushes.
Hope knelt and took his head between her hands. “Bertie, do you not know how important you are to me? You're my special gift from the Good Lord and the reason I came here."
"I thought you came to bring Papa Justice.” Bertie sniffed and rubbed his arm under his nose.
"I could have done that for two years prior. I came here to give The MacPherson his son. He honored me by sharing you with me. I cannot say you're not a bastard, but I hate hearing you say you're no-good and filthy. ‘Tis not true. You're a MacPherson bastard, and by my reckoning that puts you above most of the legitimate people on this island."
"Then I can still call you Mam?” he asked, raising pleading eyes.
Hope took Bertie into a motherly embrace. “'Twould wound my heart if you did not. And you know what? In addition to being important to your papa and me, you're important to wee Leonce and Artair. You're their big brother. They'll look up to you. ‘Tis your job to help us protect them. My brother could not protect me because my mother was stolen from her family. You must help us keep such danger from them. The worst thing in the world is to grow up without a family's love. ‘Tis worse than being a bastard."
"It is?” His pixy jaw went slack.
"Aye.” She crooked her lips in a sly smile. “I have an idea. How old are you?"
"I just had my seventh summer.” He proudly squared his shoulders.
"So you only have a few years afore your father begins training you as a warrior.” She cocked her head. “Want to learn another weapon afore then?"
"I was getting bloody good with my bow afore winter, but I cannot practice anymore,” he said in a victim's voice and sighed.
She shook her head at the little martyr. “We will ask your father to put a bale of hay in here and paint a target on it. But ‘twas another weapon I had in mind. How about your own whip?"
"Whip!” Bertie's eyes grew huge. “My own whip! Goshens! Even Papa doesn't have a whip!"
"I will teach you. When they are older, you can teach your brothers. But you must remember ‘tis a weapon and not a toy,” she warned. “You can kill or take out an eye with your lash. I'll have your promise that you'll practice only when I am with you until I say ‘tis safe for you to be on your own."
"I bloody well promise!” he declared loud enough for the whole clan to hear.
"Will you come upstairs with me and see your brothers now, then let me tell your story later? ‘Tis the truth, I should not do stairs for a few more days, and I am bloody tired. I only came down because I was so worried about you."
Bertie's eyes took on a look of panic. “Why did you not send for me if you're not supposed to do stairs! Let's go put you to bed. Nay, wait! You cannot walk up. I'll go find someone to carry you. Nay, wait! I cannot leave you alone. You might have an attack.” He slammed a small palm against his forehead. “Zounds! I have a cursed problem!"
Leonce slammed the rear door shut. “Burrrr! ‘Tis nippy outside."
Bertie ran to Leonce, grabbed his hand, and tugged him toward Hope. “Hurry, Papa! Mam needs to be in bed, but I cannot carry her!"
Hope snorted. “I do not need to be in—"
"Bertie is right. You need to be in bed.” Leonce scooped her up and headed for the stairs wi
th Bertie scurrying ahead of them.
"I do not need the cursed bed.” She draped her arms around his neck. “I need to regain my strength."
Leonce reached the stairs. “You can let me carry you peacefully, MacFury, or the rebuking can begin. We both know you're not supposed to do stairs yet."
"'Tis Lady MacPherson, and I'll not argue if you'll carry me back down for dinner and Bertie's story,” she said in her order-tossing tone.
He sighed. “Agreed."
"And you take me to sit in the chair by the hearth, so I can spend time with Bertie, helping him appreciate the twins."
"Only if I can join you. Bertie needs his father too."
"Your neck is not icy.” She narrowed her eyes. “How long were you there?"
"Long enough to know my son has a loving mother who would have him know his value."
"That was not very specific."
"I believe he told you to go see your cursed sons."
"He did not mean it,” she defended. “He feels inferior because he is a bastard and the twins are getting so much attention."
"I cannot change his birth, but I can get him a bale of hay.” Leonce entered the chamber and carried Hope to the chair by the crib. He lowered her to the seat and piled pelts on her. “We'll have a family nooning up here, Garia. You'll inform Freya."
"I will see to it, Chief.” Garia left the room.
"You're smothering me with all the cursed layers, Lion,” Hope grumbled.
"Do not smother her, Papa,” Bertie ordered, hovering anxiously by Hope.
Leonce grunted in response, took away one of the pelts, and glanced into the crib. “Wee Leonce is awake. Come meet him, Bertie."
"We met the other day.” Bertie sounded disgruntled.
"I'm doubting if wee Leonce remembers that. His mind does not work as well as yours yet. He needs daily reminders of who he can trust."
"Sure we want to keep him if his mind is so cursed slow?"
Leonce tapped Bertie's head. “Yours was not so swift when I first got you. I'm thinking we'll keep him and see if his mind grows half so well."
