Tall, Dark, and Medieval

by Barbara Devlin

  Conall stood next to his friend and squeezed his shoulder, treading softly, as he knew how unpredictable Dragonkine males could be with their mates, especially when they were in dire straits. “Me brother, Abigale needs yer strength and understanding right now. Let Alice see to her.”

  Effie stood from her chair and added, “Conall is right. Plus ye dinnae want to put the babe in danger. Alice is the best and I’ll be there too. I give ye me word.”

  Without a word he hesitantly lifted his arm from Abigale and Alice swiftly took control. “Effie, fetch me blankets and make sure there’s a fire in the hearth for hot water.”

  “Aye.” Effie hurried off.

  “Conall, Rory, and Magnus, ye make damn sure James stays oot of their bedchamber. We’re going to have a babe.”

  Alice guided and supported Abigale up the stairs and into Abigale’s bedchamber. All the while James was left watching them defenseless. Powerless in helping Abigale through the pain, his heart raced, sweat trickled down his face from his temples. As the women left his sight, it hit him like a sack of rocks; his child was on its way into the world, and he was left waiting like an outsider. He should be in that damn room comforting his wife.

  HIGHLAND STORM

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  The morn hours gave way to the afternoon, creeping by into the setting sun and still there was no babe. Long into the night James sat in front of the great hall’s hearth, staring intently at the raging flames. He rested his elbows on his knees and steepled his fingers at his chin, resisting the urge to go to his wife.

  Magnus sat leisurely in a chair with his feet resting on a bench, crossed at the ankle. He looked as if he too was deep in thought, yet he kept a firm eye on James. Taking out his worries on a roasted leg of lamb, Rory sat at the table gobbling up another round of food. Stress eating seemed to calm his nerves.

  Picking the shortest straw, Conall was posted at the base of the stairs in case James decided to bolt up to Abigale. He knew his friend good and well; right now he might look stoic, but inside the warrior was kindling, ready to ignite. Primed to intervene at a moment’s notice, Conall paced from the window looking out into the courtyard back to the bottom of the stairs.

  The agonizing cries of pain and desperate pleas to God from James’s wife were increasing by the hour, trying his resolve to keep his arse planted in the chair. The louder she was, the more difficult it became to keep his composure. He was pulled tight ready to snap.

  “Oww! Blessed Mary!” Abigale yelled, sending the pain straight to James’s heart. Closing his eyes tight again he fought the urge to get up. Instead he hung his head and tapped his foot rapidly on the floor. His control was weakening and his nerves were unraveling nerve ending by nerve ending. If only he could take her pain away.

  Another second later and a gut-wrenching scream, and James lost all self-control. The tight grip on sanity that he held onto snapped. He shot out of the chair, sending the damn thing crashing behind him. His black cloak fell to the floor as he rushed to the staircase, only to be held back by his trusted friend.

  “Conall, damn it! Let me pass!” He struggled against Conall’s hold.

  “I can no’ let ye do that.” Conall with all his might, held him firm at the bottom of the stairs.

  “I’m in no condition to be responsible for me actions. I’ll only ask ye one more time. Let. Me. Pass,” James demanded through gritted teeth.

  “Nay, Alice will have me arse for it.”

  With one fluid motion James swung his arm around aiming for Conall’s head. Conall ducked just in time from the massive blow as James’s fist hit the stone wall. Stone and mortar crumbled to the ground, leaving behind a huge hollow crater.

  “Bastart! Ye were going to hit me!” Conall said, wide-eyed in surprise.

  “And I’ll do it again if ye dinnae let me pass,” James snarled. His eyes swirled amber like freshly poured whiskey and his pupils transformed to reptilian slits. It was of no surprise, James was going to go dragon if the men couldn’t hold him back and talk some sense into him.

  Rory, from behind, grabbed James’s arms and held them behind his back, securing him from harming the rest of the warriors and the walls of Black Stone.

  Magnus flew out of his seat and raced to Conall’s side. Getting past two dragons... now that would be a challenge.

  Through clenched teeth, Rory growled, “Let it go, James. Abigale has enough to deal with, she does no’ need yer stubborn pigheadedness!”

  “Rory if ye do no’ let me go so help me...”

  Just then through all the fists flying, blasphemies, and threats, another bloodcurdling scream.

  “Aaaahhhh!”

  “Abigale, push!” Alice yelled.

  The Highlanders, who knew no weakness, who battled bloody, who stared death in its ugly face, froze. James shrugged out from Rory’s hold as they all stared in complete horror at the top of the stairs.

  Silence sliced the air for what seemed like an eternity. The screaming had stopped, not a moan, a whimper, not even a night critter stirred. Dead silence.

  What the hell was going on? He knew his wife was having their babe, but the antagonizing quietness after hours of desperate wailing had him thinking something had gone terribly wrong. Come on, Abigale, scream out, say something so I know ye are well, James pleaded.

  As if someone was listening from above, the tiniest, most soul shaking screech echoed through the quietness, slamming into James’s chest. The crying turned into wailing and the warrior stood stoic. His babe had been born.

  The Highlanders looked at one another in complete shock, in awe. Indeed a babe had been born.

  Like his arse was on fire, James took the stairs three at a time. He reached the top of the staircase, made a sharp right, and ran towards his bedchamber, only to be stopped by Alice.

  “Och, I was just fixin` to come fetch ye,” she said.

  James continued to the door, where Alice placed her hand on his arm and stopped him. “James Douglas, look at me.”

  With his hand on the door latch, slowly he turned his focus on Alice. His heart, that had been racing and pounding against his ribcage suddenly took a nosedive straight into his gut as the worried look on Alice’s face gnawed at him. This was the part when Alice would tell him Abigale hadn’t made it; that she died giving birth. With his feet planted firm, he clenched his jaw, fighting back the overload of emotions he was feeling. But how long he could hold on... that was left a mystery.

  “Abigale had a difficult birth but she fares well. She’ll be fine with a wee bit of rest. Now, if ye’ll be on yer best behavior, I’ll let ye in.”

  Thank Christ, Abigale was alright. He let out a breath of relief. He was a wreck. James had felt like a maiden, full of emotional. One minute he was ready to fight the devil himself to get to Abigale, then the next he was the extreme opposite, feeling as if his heart had been ripped from his chest with the thought of losing Abigale to childbirth.

  He needed to calm his backside before he entered the chamber.

  “Go on.” Alice nudged him with her shoulder.

  Taking his hand off the latch, he hugged Alice. “Thank ye.”

  “Och, ye dinnae have to thank me. Thank yer wife. She did good.” Alice stepped away from his embrace and gave James a reassuring smile.

  She busied herself down the corridor and called out over her shoulder, “I’ll be back in a wee bit to check on the three of ye.”

  The three of ye? James’s heart seized as he paused to open the door.

  “Go on,” Conall encouraged.

  James looked behind him to find his brothers right there, just as eager to meet the wee bairn.

  Rory shouldered his way past Conall and Magnus to James. “If ye’re no’ dragon enough to open the damn door, then I’ll do it.” Rory went for the door and was pulled back from it by the back of his tunic.

  “Over me dead body ye will,” James threatened.

  The men stepped back as James opened the door ever so gent
ly and quietly. As if this massive brawny Highlander was a mouse, he peeked in the room then entered softly.

  As he opened the door wider, the view in front of him was like none he had ever seen. Not even the most perfect sunrise over the mist covered Highlands came close to it. His beautiful wife lay on their bed, propped up by billowing pillows, watching his reaction. Her auburn hair, wet with sweat, stuck around her angelic face. Her blue eyes looked up at his as if she was seeking his approval.

  He tried to make his feet move to her but the blasted things didn’t want to listen.

  Effie walked towards him, holding a bundle swaddled in a white linen blanket. It didn’t move, nor make a sound. James started to sweat and panic began to rile up his nerves again.

  “My Laird.” Effie nodded toward the bundle in her arms.

  James swallowed heavily and took a step back like Effie held the plague in her arms. “I... I...” He looked at Abigale as if he was asking to be rescued. He was panicking, not sure what to do.

  “James Douglas, dinnae ye want to meet yer daughter?” Abigale asked from across the room.

  “A daughter?” James repeated. Not that he didn’t hear her the first time, but for some odd reason saying it out loud confirmed it. He had a daughter.

  “Aye,” Abigale answered.

  He stepped closer to Effie and peeked over her shoulder at the perfectly swaddled bundle. It was wrapped up tight, only her face was sticking out. The babe was peacefully sleeping as Effie gently bounced the bundle in her arms. Her eyes were closed and he caught himself wondering what color they might be. He stood smiling in awe. Aye, a perfect neatly wrapped package.

  “I have to fetch the priest so he can start the baptism,” Effie announced and motioned for James to take the babe.

  “Nay, I’ll go.” James sought out any excuse not to hold the babe. Fear overwhelmed him and he panicked. “Ye stay here with Abigale.” He wiped the sweat from his brow. “I’ll be back.”

  And with that said he left the room without any further conversation.

  Effie turned to Abigale and watched as tears streamed down her best friend’s face. “Oh, Abigale, I be so sorry.” She walked over and sat on the bed with the babe in her arms.

  Abigale put her head in her hands. “I was afraid of this.”

  For the past few weeks Abigale had been worried about James’s reaction to the babe. Even though he reassured her constantly that he loved her and was overjoyed about the babe, she still had a nagging feeling in the pit of her stomach telling her James would react like this. She never knew when this side of the Black Douglas would rear itself.

  Effie shushed the babe as she squirmed in her arms. “What do ye mean?”

  “Oh, Effie, ye know how James is. ’Tis so hard to read that man sometimes.” Abigale sniffled and glanced up from her hands and took a deep breath. “I was afraid that the babe’s arrival would drive him daft.” Abigale shrugged her shoulders. “Mayhap he wanted a son.” Again the sobbing began.

  “Nonsense. James loves ye, he’ll be back.” Effie tried to reassure Abigale, but no words were going to comfort her friend until James returned.

  HIGHLAND STORM

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Loathing himself for leaving like he had, James made his way to the kirk to fetch the priest. Normally the father and godparents were the ones to bring a newly born to the kirk for the baptism, however Abigale had been adamant that the babe remain in their bedchamber where it was warm.

  He strode with heavy feet out of the great hall and into the cold night air. When he thought about holding that wee fragile babe, he panicked. Nay, he was scared, pure and simple. The wee babe had frightened him senseless. “Coward,” he spat.

  He paused and looked down at his shaking hands. People had died by these hands. He knew what lived inside him; his strength alone could crush the babe without warning. “God’s Blood!” He was not worthy to hold such an innocent babe in his arms.

  Fresh air was what he needed. Aye, fresh air and to calm his backside down. All day and into the long hours of the night he’d been on edge, from the moment Abigale doubled over in pain until just moments ago. Although seeing that Abigale had fared well through the labor indeed soothed him, it was seeing his own flesh and blood that had sent him over the edge. He had refused his daughter.

  Aye, a coward. How quickly the wee babe had taken control of the situation, sending him running for the Highlands with his tail tucked between his legs. For Christ sake, he’d been through far worse.

  Ashamed for acting like a fool, James quickened his pace, for he felt a strong need pulling him back to his wife and daughter.

  A daughter? He stopped dead in his tracks. His heart warmed and a smile crept across his masculine face. A daughter? I have a daughter. It was as if the realization had just swung down like a broadsword from the enemy’s hand and hit him on the head; he had a wee daughter. If he was right, his daughter was as bonny as Abigale. Auburn hair... blue eyes... and a smile that could melt away hearts. Aye, she had to be bonny.

  Dawn had awoken the morn sky over the Highlands as vibrant colors of orange and yellow warmed the blue above him. As James stood reveling in the fact he had a daughter, he felt the urge brewing inside of him to announce it. Not only to the town folk, but to all of Scotland. Hell, to the world.

  Not being able to contain himself any longer, James stopped an auld man walking by him. “I have a daughter,” he announced.

  “Och, laddie, a wee one is a precious gift. One word of advice, keep her locked up and away from the lads around here.” The man shook a finger at James. “They be rotten, I tell ye.”

  James smiled and couldn’t halt his good news any longer.

  On his way to the kirk with quickened steps, again he stopped to tell another clan member about the glorious event. This time it had been a woman; a woman resting a basket on her hip and looking as if she was readying her morn for washing clothes. “My daughter has been born.” James grabbed the basket from the woman and walked with her to her washing station. He placed the basket down and hugged the woman as if she was his next of kin.

  The woman stood in shock as she was engulfed by the Dragonkine warrior. “Och, laird, if yer daughter be born why are ye oot here then?”

  James let go of his hold on the woman and looked down at her. His smile was now a thin line and his forehead creased. With the way he had left the bedchamber, he could only hope that Abigale would forgive him for being such an arse.

  Quickly he turned in the direction of the kirk and made haste. The priest had better be ready. There was no time to waste.

  HIGHLAND STORM

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  As James entered the bedchamber, Abigale was holding their daughter and looked as if she had been pacing the room. When she turned to look at him, her eyes were rimmed red like she had been crying. His heart shattered.

  He wanted to go to her and confess what a fool he had been but the room was full of people and the priest was on the way to perform the baptism.

  Being as James was laird and, well, being feared by most men, he ordered for the room to be cleared. “Oot! Everyone oot!”

  Abigale walked towards the door, flowing behind Effie.

  “Abigale, lass, ye stay here.” The dominance in his voice made his wife abruptly stop.

  As the door shut, James strode over to his wife and daughter and wrapped his massive arms around them. “I’m sorry, lass, I was scared. Please forgive me.” He held them tight and began to worry when Abigale didn’t respond to his apology.

  “Say something, lass, or hit me.”

  Abigale’s face was buried in a wall of muscled flesh. “Love, I cannae breathe,” she said, her voice muffled.

  James loosened his hold and looked down at his wife to meet the most beautiful blue eyes.

  “I knew ye would come back to me, but ye did give me a wee bit of a scare.” She shouldered her husband aside and walked over to the bed to feed the babe.

  “James
, we need a name for this wee one.” The mother looked down at her beautiful daughter and yawned as the babe suckled at her breast. She was indeed beautiful.

  “Aye.” Giving Abigale some privacy, James busied himself by tending to the fire in the hearth.

  “Do ye have a name in mind?”

  “Nay.”

  There was a long uncomfortable stretch of silence. From the first time James had walked into the room Abigale had been worried about how he was going to react toward her and the babe. He had been too reserved, and reluctant to even hold his daughter. She had to wonder perhaps if he was disappointed in her that they did not have a son.

  By the way her husband was acting, Abigale feared the worst.

  The babe had suckled until satisfied and Abigale laced up the front of her shift. Lying the babe down on a blanket, she concentrated on how Alice had showed her how to swaddle the babe. With much focus and a second try, she’d successfully wrapped her babe up tight and held her at her chest as the wee one yawned and fell asleep.

  Peacefully the babe slept as Abigale watched her daughter in awe. Gently she caressed her cherub cheeks, marveling in their perfection. The babe could not have been more perfect.

  As she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand straight up, she found that her husband was staring at her. Afraid to say a word, she held his gaze.

  “Ye are a natural,” James said.

  “Do ye want to hold yer daughter? Please,” she begged.

  There was more silence as Abigale waited for an excuse from her husband. What was she going to do if James didnae want anything to do with his daughter? It would break her heart, crush her.

  “I dinnae think I can hold her. I will break her.”

  “Do no’ be silly. Ye’re her father, her protector,” Abigale reassured him with a tear in her eye.

  Carefully and uncomfortably, James bent down and scooped the bundle up into his arms. The babe was so tiny and seemed to have disappeared into his hulking arms. Afraid of dropping her, James held her tight. She squirmed and James watched as the corners of her tiny mouth turned down and her once peaceful face wrinkled.