Once Forbidden

by TERRI BRISBIN

  "Speak to her, Robert. Please? She haes told me of yer kindnesses to her in these last months. She would trust yer words," Rachelle pleaded softly with him.

  He nodded and they moved away to allow him closer. Kneeling at the side of the bed, he leaned in towards her. Reaching for the cloth that Firtha used on Anice's face, he dipped it into the bowl on the table and squeezed it out. Rubbing it lightly over her forehead, he began to call her name, first in a low voice and then more insistently. Tapping her cheek, he called her once more.

  "Anice. Anice. Ye must awake now."

  She roused a bit, opening her eyes and trying to focus on him. Shaking her head, she started to moan.

  "Struan, ye promised." Her voice, made husky by screaming, had taken on a more pronounced lilt, losing some of its blandness. "Will ye stand by yer words?"

  He looked from one woman to the next, trying to figure out the right thing to say and do. "She thinks I am Struan." Did she see the resemblance or was she just incoherent? Did he look like his father that much that she could mistake them?

  "Go with it, lad. Say anything she needs to hear. If she continues to fight, we will lose them both," Ada urged him on.

  "I will stand by the words I gave ye, Anice. Ye have my protection." His throat tightened as she grasped his hand and raised her head, looking straight into his eyes but never recognizing the man who was before her.

  "But only till the babe is born? Am I only safe till then? Can ye no' help me when he returns? Please," she begged in a gasping whisper and tightened her grip on his hand, "please protect me."

  Although he knew he was speaking on behalf of Struan and that Struan would make no such promises, he agreed to her request. Even while he spoke the words she thought came from Struan, Robert wanted to be the one who offered protection to her. Deep in his soul and in his heart, he knew he wanted to be the one for her. And so, without any effort, a part of him went into his words.

  "Ye have my protection, lass. Until the bairn is born and after. As long as ye need it, I will give it."

  "I am safe then?" Anice stared into his eyes and he almost believed her to be awake. "The bairn struggles to come now. I am afraid."

  "Ye are safe, Anice. I will keep ye safe."

  She relaxed at his assurances; her face lost its terrible tightness and her breathing became more regular. She believed him. Or rather, she took Struan's word of her safety. He loosened her grasp on his hand and moved away so that the women tending her could move closer. Another cramp came upon her then for her breathing became more labored and she reached down to her belly once more.

  "There now, lass. Work with the pains, let the bairn come," Ada soothed as she and Firtha lifted a few layers of bedclothes from Anice. "Blow out through your mouth when the pain is at its worst. Dinna hold yer breath."

  Robert took one look at Anice and knew this was not going to end soon. Convinced that she was in the care of those who knew much more than he did, Robert stepped away and turned to leave.

  "I thank ye for yer help, Robert," Firtha offered even as she tended to Anice.

  "Call on me if ye have need."

  He left quietly so as to not disturb them and walked back to his room. The sounds of people stirring for the day reached him from belowstairs. It would be an even longer day than it had been a night.

  Chapter 13

  Would it never stop? Anice fought to open her eyes as another wave of pain sliced through her and centered on her core. The room was a blur around her; she could hear whispered voices and knew others were there, but did not know how many or who. And, after focusing her attention and strength on surviving each contraction that came, she could not care.

  "Anice... sip this. 'Twill ease yer pains."

  "Ada, is that you?"

  She licked her dry lips and then did as the old woman ordered. The brew tasted warm and sweet and slid down her throat effortlessly. She could not remember how many times Ada had made her drink this or that, or cajoled her into pushing one more time. It seemed that now that she made the decision to push this babe out, he'd decided not to come. The pains still came, each one stronger and longer than the last, but the babe had not. Even in the stupor she existed in right now, she knew that something was wrong.

  "What time is it?"

  Anice knew that this had all begun long after dinner but had no idea how much time or how many days had passed.

  Dim light entered her rooms now; the curtains would keep back most of it anyway.

  "'Tis nearly noon, Anice."

  Noon? So if he was a day's travel from Dunnedin yesterday evening, he was only hours away now. Did Struan travel to meet him even now? What could he say? Mayhap, he was going just to escort Sandy home. Struan promised she'd be safe so she must leave it in his hands and concentrate on delivering her son.

  "Will he come soon then?"

  "He? Who do ye speak of, lass?" Ada's warm hands lifted the hair away from her face and straightened her pillow again.

  "The babe... my son," she answered.

  "Being a man, he is taking his own sweet time," Firtha said. Soft laughter filled the room for a few moments, a change from the tension there. "Do ye think this will be a boy, Anice?"

  "I know it, Firtha. 'Tis the heir of the clan I carry."

  Silence greeted her words and she knew not if it was in disbelief or in acceptance, but no one argued with her. She shifted herself on the bed and tried to push herself up. Arms behind her helped her to sit, and pillows were positioned to support her.

  "'Tis hard to say how much longer this will take, lass," Ada finally answered her question. "A first birth can take many hours, even days."

  "But 'tis too soon for him. This should not happen for many more weeks."

  Neither woman answered her unspoken question—would the babe live? Anice knew that no one could promise her that. She only hoped that her endless prayers to the Almighty had been heard and would be answered.

  "Come now, Anice. I think that walking will do ye some good. Here, now, let us help ye."

  After a few minutes of rearranging and changing nightrails and brushing hair, Anice put her feet on the floor and stood. Her legs wobbled beneath her and it took much support of Ada and Firtha to hold her up. Taking a step at a time, she made it over to a chair just as the next pain hit. Listening to her helpers, she blew her breath out hard as the cramp increased and increased, until she thought she would scream. Just as she reached her limit, the pain subsided and she could breathe once again.

  "'Tis a bit easier sitting here than lying in bed," she said.

  A sound across the room caught her attention and she looked up into Robert's eyes. His skin was a bit sallow and his cheeks bore the growth of at least a day's beard—that he had not shaved, as was his manner, was obvious. He swallowed several times as though trying to speak.

  "She is awake now, Robert," Firtha said.

  "Aye, I can see as much. How do ye fare, my... Anice?"

  She could not think of how to answer so she just nodded.

  "I will check back with ye later, Ada," he said as he backed from the room.

  "Men!" Firtha laughed. "They dinna mind being part of the fun of the making a bairn, but they dinna want to be near at the work of the birthing." Ada joined Firtha for a moment, but they both stopped when they looked at Anice. Firtha remembered the origins of this bairn, 'twas there plainly on her face, and Ada must have guessed for 'twas on hers as well.

  The next hours passed as the last one had; the contractions grew stronger each time, followed by shorter and shorter respites between. She sat, she stood, she walked as they ordered, for she could not keep any sensible thoughts in her mind. Different women attended her as well, Rachelle and some others from the clan came and went, bringing in food and drink and fresh linens from time to time. But even in this time of need she could tolerate no one's touch but Firtha's and Ada's. And when Rachelle revealed that she too was carrying, Anice ordered her from the room for fear that her pain would frighten the woman
too much.

  Robert did come back and at shorter intervals and for shorter visits, if that was possible. He never said much, just stared at her for a moment and, when assured all was moving forward as it should, he left. She had some bit of memory of him being in the chamber with her, she could almost hear his voice, but Anice did not think it really happened.

  Then, at nightfall, the bleeding began. At first, Ada and Firtha exchanged glances and reassured her that all was well.

  Now, though, she knew by their expressions and guarded words that all was not. After submitting to their probing and touching in places she would rather not think about, their faces said it all. The babe was not coming. And the bleeding was increasing with each contraction.

  Soon, with her strength gone, she no longer could remain sitting and had to lie in bed as she faced each ensuing wave of agony. Knowing that her chances of surviving this were lessening with each tormenting pain, Anice let go of her control and screamed out her anguish.

  * ~ * ~ *

  The sound of her scream echoed through the halls and rooms of the third floor and through his soul. How long could she survive this? His visits to her chambers only made it clearer—Anice and the babe would die this night. He did not consider himself a particularly religious man—oh, aye, he did his duty and followed the rules of the church, but his conversations with the Almighty were few and far between in actuality. He had spoken to Him more this last day and night than in the last ten years of his life, and all for her.

  Moira could have prevented this or, at the least, eased Anice's way through the birth. But she was not there. Leaving Ada in her stead had not seemed a bad thing to do since the old one had some healing skills. Now it looked as though Anice and her babe would die because of Moira's absence.

  He shook his head as he walked slowly down the hallway towards Anice's chamber. Moira must have known this would happen. Her wisdom would not have failed her in such an important matter of the clan. Why had she chosen this time to leave? He knew about Moira's sister and her problems, but this just did not ring true to Moira's commitment to the MacKendimens. Something in this was wrong.

  He grasped the door's knob and turned it. Part of him feared what he would find within, but he had to see to her as Struan ordered. The scene before him in the room bore out his worst fears. Anice lay still on the bed; he stared at her chest and could barely make out the rise and fall of it. Ada gathered a pile of bloody sheets and tossed them into a basket at the foot of the bed.

  "'Tis over?" he asked, not truly wanting the answer. Tears burned his eyes as he waited.

  "I fear the lass haes little time left now."

  "The babe was too early to live?"

  "The babe haes no' turned the right way to be born," Ada answered. "She is bleeding and the babe is stuck."

  Firtha sobbed at Ada's words, and if the truth be told, he felt like joining her. He wondered if Anice could hear them as she lay in her stupor. He fought the urge to gather her in his arms and hold her close.

  "We have tried to turn the bairn, but my hands are no' strong enough and Firtha canna hold her down."

  "Is there no one who could help ye in this? Other women who know how to deliver babes?"

  "None," Firtha whispered through her tears.

  "Have ye pulled a newborn colt from the mare, Robert?" At his nod, Ada continued, "Mayhap ye could do this."

  Robert reeled back. Never did he expect to hear that. "Are ye daft, Ada? A horse and a woman are different things. And I am neither husband nor faither to her to touch her in that manner."

  "Aye, Robert, different, but in this, the same. If that bairn is not freed from her body, it will tear her apart and then die. It is tearing her even now. And we lose them both. Ye would let her die wi'out even trying?" She waited as he thought on her words.

  Could he do this? He had only handled her in the briefest and most innocent of touches but this would be the most invasive touch of all—reaching into her and pulling the babe out. He knew of her aversion to be touched at all, especially by men in the clan. If she survived, how would she react to knowing he had been inside of her? If she survived? How could he be so stupid? If he did not try this, she would not live past this night. After a moment's hesitation, he nodded to Ada.

  "Tell me what to do."

  Firtha and Ada moved quickly to get Anice prepared for this attempt. Another pain came upon her, but as weak as she was now, she only made a low groaning sound as it built within her and then passed. And they were ready. Moving her gently so that her feet were nearer to the end of the bed, Ada and Firtha peeled back the sheets and lifted her nightrail, pulling it up to her belly. With one on each side to hold her legs back and support her, he dared to look for the first time.

  This was unlike any time before and he swore any time after. He leaned down and slid his hand between her thighs, an action done many times to other women in the past but never again with such an intent. The path inside was looser and wetter than he knew it could be, but it made his reach in easier. How could a woman ever fit snugly around a man again after giving birth? And yet, he knew that they did, just as Anice would. He shook his head against such thoughts now.

  "When ye touch her womb, ye will feel the babe's shoulder in the canal. Ye have to push that back inside and guide it to turn." Ada's words were matter-of-fact so he concentrated on the task before him. Sliding his fingers around the soft joint, he tried to guide the babe back, but a contraction started and all of the pressure and blood came in his direction.

  Anice shrieked again, this time long and loud, sending icy tremors down his spine. With his hand where it was, he could feel the sound vibrate through her even as it echoed through the chamber. He waited until he felt the pulsing within her womb stop and then tried once more to push the babe back inside. Placing his other hand on her belly he applied some pressure against another part of the babe, trying to turn it.

  "The head would be best, Robert, but the feet—both feet, mind ye—would work as well," Ada directed as he struggled within the tight confines to move the babe without hurting Anice even more.

  A commotion outside in the bailey drew his attention away for a moment and then he felt the babe spin a bit to one side. His fingers encircled what he thought was the bairn's head and he tried to guide it into the birth canal. His grasp slipped once more, then once again, until he finally had the slick babe in his hand. Anice's moan was a signal to that which he already felt inside; another contraction was beginning.

  "Dinna let go, lad, or we'll lose him," Ada called out as she and Firtha struggled to hold Anice. "Hold tight till it passes and then bring him out."

  Robert followed her instructions, holding as best he could onto the small head within Anice's body. Loud voices now filled the hall outside her chamber but Robert tried to ignore them, waiting for the chance to reposition the babe. As soon as the cramping lessened, he tugged the head down and pressed on her belly to keep it in place.

  The door crashing back into the wall wakened her with a jolt. Anice looked into his eyes and he saw that she recognized him. Too intent on his task to break from it, he did not turn to see who entered.

  "This is no' the time or place to deliver a message. I will see ye downstairs in the hall when this is done," Robert called out to whomever was behind him and leaned over to block the intruder's view of Anice on the bed.

  "Robert!" Anice screamed as the babe's head finally slid from her womb.

  "He is dead, Robert!" the messenger yelled out.

  Robert did not understand his meaning, since the babe was even now following his hand into the birth canal. He turned his head to look at the man in the doorway.

  "Who is dead?"

  "Sandy. We found him dead in the forest."

  There was a moment of utter and terrifying silence, followed by Anice's scream. Whether caused by the news or her babe's motion, he did not know. He watched as she arched her back, screamed again, and pushed with all her might, filling his hands with a rush of
blood. Then the babe was there. And Anice collapsed back on the bed, unconscious.

  Drawing the little body down and out, he watched as Ada came over and lifted the tiny babe, a boy, from his hands. He was purple and covered in blood and there was no movement at all. Had they been too late, then?

  Ada wrapped a cloth around the boy and briskly rubbed the babe between her hands. Not sure of what she was doing, Robert could only stand and watch. Realizing that the messenger still stood in the doorway, he questioned him.

  "Where is Struan?"

  "Struan is bringing Sandy, er, Sandy's body home. He is but a few hours behind me," the man replied.

  "Fine, then. Tell the women downstairs to prepare for their arrival. I will follow ye down shortly."

  Once the door was closed, he turned back to the bed. Firtha had moved to take the babe from Ada.

  "Is he...?" Robert could get no more out.

  "The bairn lives. Not as hearty or hale as we'd like, but he breathes." Robert nodded, glad that his efforts had been successful. Or had they? He stepped closer as Ada tended to Anice's unmoving form.

  "And...?" His throat constricted so much that he could not say her name.

  "She is still alive as well. She will need time to recover from the blood loss. If the afterbirth comes as it should, she haes a good chance."

  He did not even want to ask how and when that would happen. This was closer to a birth than he wanted to be. Ever.

  "I need to see to Struan's return. If ye have no more need of me?"

  He found a basin of water in front of the hearth and rinsed the blood from his hands as best he could. He would wash more after arrangements had been made. The two women were busy and he left without another word, closing the door behind himself.

  It was as he walked down the steps to the main floor that he realized the irony of it all. Now that Sandy was dead, the only person who stood in his way to recognition was Anice's bairn. The same son he had just safely delivered with his own hands. He laughed out loud at vicarious fate, but said a prayer of thanks to the Almighty. No matter what happened to him, at least Anice was safe.