The Midwife: The Pocket Watch Chronicles

by Ceci Giltenan

  He put his hands on her hips pulling her intimately against him and devouring her lips in another passionate kiss. Then he whispered, “Once or twice, but never have I cherished the prize as I do ye. I love ye, Elizabeth.”

  “And I love ye.” She smiled and pulled at his clothes. “Ye promised me yer naked glory earlier today and I have been counting the moments. Don’t keep me waiting longer.”

  He helped her remove his clothes, then lifted the delicate silk shift over her head. He took a step back and simply gazed at her beautiful form. He frowned. “Turn around.”

  “Why?”

  “Ye promised to obey remember?” He winked at her.

  She rolled her eyes and turned around. “Is this just an attempt to see my soft round backside?”

  “Well that is a benefit, but nay.” He stepped close, removed the ribbons securing her elaborate braids and pulled his fingers through them, releasing her hair until it formed a soft cloud around her shoulders. When he was done, he turned her back around, holding her at arm’s length. His eyes roved lazily over her body. “Perfection.”

  She surveyed him boldly and with a coy smile said, “Ye’re nearly perfect yerself.”

  He chuckled, “Nearly?”

  “Aye. Ye’d be absolutely perfect if ye weren’t so far away.”

  “That’s easily fixed.” He closed the distance between them, molding her soft body to his. His hands roamed freely over her silky skin before cupping her bottom.

  She too explored his body with her hands, her feather light touch inflaming him. She snaked her arms around his neck, entwining her fingers in his hair and drawing his lips down to hers.

  He groaned, if possible pulling her even tighter to him. The feel of her against his hardness was almost more than he could take. He moved her gently backwards, towards the bed, lowering her onto it, never breaking contact with her lips. His hands wandered over her body. He caressed first one soft breast, then the other, rubbing his thumb lightly over their firm peaks. Her lips became more demanding as he stroked her silky skin.

  ~ * ~

  Elizabeth had never felt such intense desire. It was as if Cade’s kisses, his touch, were oxygen and she had been holding her breath for far too long. She simply couldn’t get enough. She held on fiercely, writhing under him, entangling her tongue with his. When his hand slid down to stroke her heat she was transported to a world of pure bliss. And for the first time, Elizabeth, always in control and three steps ahead, let go. She trusted him to guide her to ecstasy and he did. While she was still soaring in oblivion, he pressed his length into her, filling her. She was vaguely aware of a momentary flash of pain, but it did nothing to quench her longing. She arched against him, lost in sensation, held completely in thrall. She shattered beneath him, existing only with him. As the muscles at her core contracted around his hardness, he too found his release.

  Cade dropped his head to hers, panting and whispered, “Elizabeth.” He slowly withdrew from her and moved to lay beside her. Pulling her into the curve of his body, he trailed tender kisses from her lips to her shoulder.

  “Did I hurt ye overmuch?”

  “Nay, I was too lost in your touch to notice.”

  He sighed, appearing relieved. “I was worried.”

  “About hurting me?”

  “Aye. I’ve heard it can be painful but I’d never…”

  She grinned. “Despoiled a virgin?”

  He grinned, shaking his head. “Ye’re too bold by half, lass. But, aye, ye were my first.”

  “And yer last.”

  He laughed. “Aye. My last.” He kissed her temple. “Good night my love.”

  She smiled, turned her head and kissed his lips. “Good night.” Then she relaxed into his embrace, savoring the warm cocoon of his love. Thinking only of this man she adored and the bliss she shared with him, she drifted to sleep.

  ~ * ~

  Cade woke just after sunrise and could not resist making love to his beautiful, responsive, wife once more before rising for the day. She was every bit as open and enthusiastic as she had been the night before. He delighted her. Afterward, as she lay in his arms relaxed and satisfied, he gave in to a moment of awe, as he realized the series of miracles that had brought her to him.

  Finally she said, “I don’t suppose we can stay in bed longer? All morning? All day? Forever?”

  He chuckled. “That would be heaven, but alas, we can’t.”

  He rose from the bed and began to dress.

  She sighed and rose too. She took a few moments to wash but when she had finished, she frowned. “I’m going to have to do the walk of shame.”

  “The what?”

  She laughed. “The only clothes I have were the ones I was wearing last night.” At his confused look she continued, “In my time, when a lass spends the night where she ought not, and has to put on the same clothes she wore the previous evening to go home, it’s called the walk of shame.”

  He smiled. “Ah, I understand. But ye do belong here and ye’re already home.” He opened his wardrobe cabinet to reveal her clothing hanging in it. “Deirdre moved yer things for ye.”

  “Of course she did. I should have known. She’s a good friend.”

  He frowned when he realized how very few garments she had. “I’ll speak with Aunt Lilliana to make sure ye have a few more choices.”

  Elizabeth smiled in the lopsided way he found so adorable. “I won’t lie, I’d quite like that.”

  He laughed.

  After she had dressed he asked, “Shall we face the clan?”

  “I promised I would stop by Wynda’s chamber first, but then, aye.”

  Before opening the chamber door, he took her hand, leaned down and gave her a tender kiss, grinning as he pulled away. “Oh, lass, there was something I meant to tell ye last night.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Ye were wrong.”

  “About what?”

  “Ye were wrong when ye said ye could restrain yerself. Turns out, yer not very good at that at all.”

  She slapped at his chest. “And it’s glad ye are.”

  He grinned. “Aye, it’s glad I am.”

  Chapter 31

  Elizabeth was perfectly happy and very much in love. Gertrude had been right, until she landed in the thirteenth century her life had been a series of calculated chess moves, always three steps ahead. David had been right too, nearly every step she had taken in her life had been based more on what was expected of her than what she most desired. This time and place had forced her to slow down and live life each day, and she grew to love the pattern of those days. Serving the clan as a healer and midwife was more fulfilling than she could have imagined. She was even becoming accustomed to being Lady Elsie, although it still made her a bit uncomfortable.

  She loved her life, she loved the clan, but more than anything else she loved Cade. He had captured her imagination and overwhelmed her senses from the day she met him. It was hard to imagine that a modern woman and a medieval man were destined for each other but as each day passed Elizabeth was more and more confident they had been. Perhaps that was the purpose of the pocket watch, to repair displaced destiny.

  Wynda continue to do well but by the middle of July, her cervix had begun to efface.

  “The baby is growing nicely, which is wonderful. But as I told ye early on, it is pressure from the baby that causes the opening of yer womb to soften.”

  “But it’s still too early.” Wynda could not hide her fear.

  “Aye it’s a little early, but there’s no reason to worry. Ye haven’t started labor. We are just going to continue to reduce the pressure by elevating the foot of yer bed. I fear it will be more uncomfortable than simply lying flat, but the longer we can delay labor, the better.”

  “I don’t care. I said I’d hang from my heels if I had to and I will.

  So Elizabeth had blocks put under the foot of the bed.

  Angus, in a move that caused Elizabeth’s respect for him to grow tenfold, conti
nued to sleep beside his wife. “If she has to put up with it all of the time for the next month, I can suffer through the nights beside her.”

  When Elizabeth mentioned this to Cade, he smiled. “Aye, my da adores Wynda.”

  “And did he feel the same about yer mother?”

  “My mother was a MacInnes and their betrothal had been arranged when they were both young. I think my mother was nine, making da three and ten. My father was Laird MacInnes’ squire and apparently the old laird thought highly of him, so he sought the betrothal.”

  “I suppose it was nice that they had the chance to know each other.”

  “Perhaps, but have ye ever heard the saying: ‘familiarity breeds contempt’?”

  “They didn’t like each other?”

  “Not exactly that. I don’t remember, of course. From what I’ve heard, their marriage was congenial. It’s just that there was no strong affection between them—no passion.” Cade cast a sideways glance at her. “He kept a mistress, apparently at my mother’s urging.”

  “Ye’re not serious.”

  “Aye, I am. I’ve told ye before, ‘tis a common enough thing. They were young. Da was but yer age when I was born and my mother was ten and seven. She died three years later giving birth.”

  “He didn’t remarry for nine years?”

  Cade nodded. “And his mistress is probably the reason. He was very fond of Bradana. I do remember her. She was a good woman.”

  “But he didn’t marry her?”

  “Nay, Elizabeth, bird and fish. She was a common lass, the brewer’s daughter.”

  “What happened to her?”

  “The year I went away to train—I was ten—a sickness swept the village. Most everyone fell ill and a good few died. Bradana had some knowledge of healing herbs and helped care for the sick but eventually she too succumbed and it took her life.”

  “Yer poor father.”

  “Aye, he mourned her as one would a spouse.”

  “I expect he did. It had to have been a terrible loss.”

  “It was. I really don’t think he intended to marry again.”

  “What changed his mind?”

  Cade chuckled. “Wynda. She was a MacLean. Uncle Hamish had trained with Laird MacLean and he and Da attended her older brother’s wedding. Apparently Da fell hard and fast. At two and twenty Wynda was a little older than most brides. She had been betrothed before, but her groom kept postponing the wedding and then got himself killed in a raid on a neighboring clan. Once Da met her, he would have moved heaven and earth to marry her. That’s what brought him around about us.”

  “What do ye mean?”

  “When he upbraided me the morning he learned we handfasted—”

  “He yelled at ye?”

  “Well, aye. Elizabeth, I know ye see things differently, but marrying without the laird’s permission is a very disrespectful thing to do.”

  “When did he do it and why didn’t he yell at me?”

  “He did it while ye slept and if ye hadn’t been from future, ye’d have gotten the same lecture. He figured ye didn’t know just how unacceptable it was.”

  She smiled at him. “I didn’t. But I don’t think it would have changed my mind if I had.”

  Cade laughed. “Ye’re a wicked lass and I quite like that about ye. As it was, he had barely started his rant when I asked him what he would have done if Wynda had been a midwife instead of a laird’s daughter.”

  “And that stopped him?”

  “Aye. He agreed that some people are simply meant to be together.”

  “Well, I’m shocked. Yer da has a romantic streak.”

  “A little one at least.”

  “Thanks for telling me all of that. It explains a lot. But, Cade, just one thing.”

  “What’s that, my love?”

  “It may be a common enough thing, but if ye ever take a mistress, I’ll slice off yer cods.”

  He laughed and gave her a quick kiss. “I’m certain ye would but ye needn’t worry. Ye’re quite enough to handle—I don’t need two women.”

  At her indignant frown, he kissed her again. “Elizabeth, ye are the heart of my heart. I want only ye in my arms.”

  ~ * ~

  Near the end of July, life’s realities came crashing in with force. One afternoon, she and Morag had just finished visiting the clan’s pregnant women. They sat down in Morag’s cottage for a chat over an herbal tisane.

  “I think I’m getting old Elizabeth.”

  “Why do ye say that?”

  “I have more trouble getting around and I’ve been awfully tired the last week or so.”

  “Perhaps ye should take a rest in the afternoons.”

  She grimaced. “I may just do that.”

  “Is something wrong, Morag?”

  “This tisane isn’t sitting well. I feel queasy. A little unsettled-like. I’ve felt much the same off and on for days.”

  Elizabeth frowned and reached for the old woman’s wrist to feel her pulse. “And ye’re just telling me about it?” Her pulse felt a little fast.

  “It’s not terribly distressing. I reckoned it would go away.”

  “Has anything else been bothering ye?”

  “Oh, I have a bit of dropsy from time to time. It may be a little worse.”

  “Dropsy?”

  “Aye, dropsy.” Morag lifted the hem of her skirt to show Elizabeth her ankles.

  Dropsy was obviously the word for edema and Morag had pitting edema up to her knees.

  Dread began to form in Elizabeth’s heart. “Can I listen to yer breathing?”

  “Aye, of course ye can.”

  “Let’s take off yer outer garment so I can hear better.”

  With that accomplished, Elizabeth opened the back of Morag’s léine, and placed her ear directly on the old woman’s back. It wasn’t as effective as a stethoscope, but it didn’t matter. There was enough fluid in Morag’s lungs that amplification wasn’t required to hear it.

  Damnit. She’s in congestive heart failure—probably having a heart attack and there is nothing I can do.

  “Morag, come lie down and put yer feet up. I’m going to make ye a willow bark infusion.”

  “I’m uncomfortable lying flat, pet, and I’m not really having much pain.”

  “We can prop yer head up if ye wish, but I’d like for ye to rest.”

  When she had Morag situated, and had the willow bark steeping, she stepped out of the cottage. She called to the first person she saw, Kirstie’s little brother. “Cam, lad, I need ye to do something for me.”

  “Aye, my lady.”

  “Please run to the keep. Tell Sir Cade and Lady Lilliana that Morag is ill and I am staying with her.”

  “Aye, my lady.”

  Then she closed the door and sat beside Morag’s bed.

  The old midwife frowned at her. “What has ye so worried, Elizabeth?”

  “Morag, the symptoms ye’re having suggest that there’s something wrong with yer heart. I can’t explain it all to ye, but it is very serious. I’m going to give ye the willow bark infusion not so much for pain, but because it might help a little.”

  “Serious is it?”

  “Aye.”

  “And there’s nothing ye can do for it?”

  “I’m sorry Morag, there isn’t. If we were in my time, there are a lot of things that could be done, but not here.”

  “Am I dying, lass?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “But ye’re worried?”

  “Aye, I’m worried.”

  She grimaced again. “Well then, there’s something I need to tell ye.”

  “Nay, try to rest.”

  “Not if I might be dying. Ye need to know this.”

  “All right, I’ll listen.”

  “I’m the reason ye’re here.”

  Elizabeth frowned. “I don’t understand.”

  “Years ago we had several midwives. All fine skilled women.” She smiled, “I trained most of them. And all were youn
ger than me. I thought I had taken care to ensure my clanswomen would be looked after if something happened to me. But, as ye know, life here can be hard. Through the years, they have all passed away. The last, and youngest died over a year ago, sadly while giving birth to her own child.” A tear slipped down her cheek.

  “I’m sorry, Morag.”

  “I am too, lass.” She closed her eyes and was still for a moment, appearing to offer a silent prayer for the women. “Well, sometime around the end of the harvest season last year, Gertrude passed this way. I shared my fears with her. I didn’t really have a new apprentice to train and I worried the clan would be left without a midwife altogether. I thought maybe in her travels, she might know of someone.”

  Elizabeth smiled. “And what did Gertrude say?”

  “She said I wasn’t to worry. The universe unfolds as it should. Whatever that means.”

  “It means things that are meant to happen will happen.”

  “Well, I guess they do, but evidently it takes a little meddling from an old crone from time to time.”

  Elizabeth laughed. “Evidently. Is that why ye were so willing to give me a chance?”

  “Aye. And why I believed ye about the pocket watch. I’ve felt guilty about it for months.”

  “Why on earth would ye feel guilty?”

  “This isn’t yer time. Ye left yer family and everything ye knew because the MacKenzies needed ye.”

  “I left my family and everything I knew because I needed the MacKenzies. This was my destiny. It was my choice to stay Morag, and I don’t regret anything. I’m happy.”

  “Ye’re sure?”

  She took the old woman’s hand. “Aye. I’m sure.”

  Morag grimaced again. “Well, be sure ye train up a good few apprentices. We don’t want to have to call on Gertrude twice for the same problem.”

  “I’ll do that. Now I want ye to drink some willow bark tea.”

  “Whatever ye say lass.”

  “Is there anyone I should send for?”

  “Nay. ’Tis yer hand I wish to hold.”

  Elizabeth’s heart lurched and she blinked back tears. “I won’t leave ye then.”

  Lady Lilliana arrived a few minutes later. Together she and Elizabeth tried to make Morag comfortable through the evening. But with little else to be done, Elizabeth sat and held Morag’s hand.