William turned to Erin. “Before God and our clan, what say you, Erin of clan Durie?”
“I, Erin Margaret of clan Durie, daughter of Aaron Durie and Jane Anderson, pledge my troth to thee, Robley Alexander of clan MacKintosh. With my hands, I shall provide for thee. With my body, I shall succor thee. With my heart, I shall cherish thee, and only thee, all the days of my life. As God is my witness, and before this clan, from this day forward, we are husband and wife.”
Erin blinked, and her voice quavered as she spoke the words, but the love flowing from her nearly stopped his heart, and her sincerity rang through every word. Could he be any happier than he was at this very moment? It didn’t seem possible. She loved him. His good nature and natural optimism had been restored, and with all his heart he believed they would live a long and happy life together.
“Before God and your clan, you have made your vows. ’Tis with great gladness that we welcome you into our keeping, Erin.” William raised a goblet. “A toast to the new couple. May you find joy and strength in this union.” A cheer erupted, and goblets were lifted in their honor. Once the first round of good wishes settled, William lifted his cup again. “And another toast in celebration of the birth of my grandsons and Malcolm’s heirs, David James, whom we call Migizi to honor his mother’s people, and Owain William, whom we call Bizhiw.” Another hearty cheer filled the hall. “Let us bow our heads and give thanks, for we have been blessed many times over.” The earl’s voice reverberated through the great hall.
His uncle led them in prayer, and the moment the last amen had been said, pages and servants brought forth the roasted beef, stuffed swan and platters laden with vegetables, fruit and sweets. Rob took the plaid binding their wrists and tucked it in his sporran for safekeeping. Taking Erin’s hand, he led her to her place upon the dais. “Are you hungry, babe?”
She shot him an incredulous look. “Now that I’m your wife, we’re back to babe?”
He laughed. “Aye, as a reminder of how far we’ve come. For if you’ll recall, you did no’ wish to get involved.” He lifted their clasped hands and kissed her knuckles. “And here you are, my wife.” He placed her palm over his chest. “You are my heart, mo anam, which means my breath. You are the very air I breathe, Erin of clan MacKintosh.”
She swallowed, and a shadow of doubt flashed in her eyes. “What if I can’t make it last?” she asked in a shaky voice. “I haven’t exactly had the best role models.”
“When you feel yourself falter, look to me, lass. With God’s help, I’ll carry you through whatever trials we might face.”
“Our thirty days are up in a little over a week,” she whispered. “How do you plan to carry us through that?”
“I’ve given it a great deal of thought, and I agree with you.” He pulled her chair out and settled her at the table. “Giselle owes us a debt of gratitude. I dinna believe she meant for us to end before we’ve barely had the chance to begin. If she saw True’s future need of your skills, it stands to reason she’s also aware of what will befall us if she does no’ intervene.” Whether or not she cared was another matter altogether, but this was their wedding night. No sense in dampening both their spirits with things out of their control.
He took his place and heaped their trencher full with generous portions of meat and vegetables. “If you’re correct, I expect we’ll hear of her whereabouts very soon.” Skewering a succulent piece of beef, he fed his beloved. “Faith, mo céile. We must have a little faith that all will be well.” He took a bite for himself. “In the meantime, let us no’ tarry too long at table. We’ve important matters to attend to above stairs.”
Her expression turned to puzzlement. “We do?”
“Och, aye.” He winked at her. “We must christen our marriage bed.”
Her lashes lowered, and a smile graced her luscious mouth. “I’m pretty sure we’ve already done that. Several times in fact.”
“Tonight is different, for we’ve handfasted before our kin. For certes this warrants another christening.” He raised an eyebrow, and his gaze roamed her beautiful face. “Does it no’?”
Her laughter washed over him, and a flood of tenderness and love turned his insides to melted wax. “I love you, wife.”
“I love you, husband.” She reached for his hand. “How soon can we slip away?”
Robley caught Hunter’s eye and gestured for his attendance. “Hunter, can you fill a tray and bring it to our chamber along with a flagon of wine?”
“Aye,” Hunter answered, grinning from ear to ear.
“Let us go to our chamber, my dear.” He rose and offered her his hand. She took it, and he led her off the dais to the stairs amid the calls and jeers of the revelers who had noticed. Rob turned and bowed, eliciting bawdy shouts. Erin’s eyes widened, and color flooded her cheeks.
“Pay them no heed, love. ’Tis always thus on a couple’s wedding night.”
“Great,” she muttered, lifting her hem and taking the first step.
The ferry master’s daughter, her husband in tow, hurried toward them. Rob’s protective instincts kicked in, and he positioned himself between his wife and the couple.
“Beggin’ yer pardon, milord, milady,” Alma said, gripping her husband’s arm. “We wish tae speak with ye. It will take but a moment.” She sent her husband a forceful look. “Roderick has somethin’ tae say.”
Rob’s jaw tightened. “Aye?”
Roderick cleared his throat and shuffled his feet. “I owe ye an apology, Lady Erin. I ken my son’s . . .” His hands fisted at his sides. “’Twas no’ yer fault. Me and Alma . . . this is no’ the first bairn we’ve lost, and the others happened long afore ye arrived.” His eyes pleading, he glanced at Erin. “We dinna ken why, but . . .”
“How many miscarriages have you had, Alma?” Erin stepped around him and took Alma’s hands in hers.
“Thrice, including this last. But this one, I was so sure . . . He was almost tae term, and the others were lost early on.”
“Hmm.” Erin frowned. “I’m so sorry.”
“Is there aught you can do tae help us?” Alma asked.
“I don’t know.” Erin bit her lip. “Let me think about it. Perhaps between Lady True and myself, we can think of something.”
A look of gratitude and hope passed between the couple. “I’m sorry for blaming ye. Can ye forgive me, milady?” Roderick asked.
“Of course. I understand your grief and frustration. Please, enjoy the feast, and we’ll talk again soon.”
“Thank ye.” He bowed his head. “We both wish ye much happiness.”
The couple rejoined the festivities, and Erin’s expression turned pensive.
“What are you thinking, love?” He took her hand again and guided her up the steps toward their chamber. Two wedding nights! He was a lucky man indeed.
“Early on in my midwife program, I met a couple who had a similar history to Alma and Roderick’s. An autopsy was done on the baby they lost at twenty-seven weeks. Turns out the husband and wife were passing a Streptococcus bacteria back and forth that was infecting the fetuses. We treated them both with antibiotics, and last I heard, they had a healthy daughter.” She shrugged. “I don’t have any antibiotics. I don’t know how to help them.”
“Humph.”
She grinned at him. “You don’t understand half of what I just said. Right?”
“Aye, but it matters no’. I ken the gist of it.” He opened their door and ushered her through. A fire burned in their hearth, and the bedcovers had been turned down. “Come here to me, sweet wife. Your husband desires some of the succoring you vowed to provide.”
Her smile bright enough to light the day, Erin walked into his arms. “Hunter will be here in a few minutes with our supper. The succoring will have to wait.”
“Och, aye? A kiss then to tide me over.” Cradling her face between his palms, he kissed her dee
ply. Already he kent how to please her, how she liked to be touched and where. Anticipation sent a rush of heat to his groin. The kind of heat that felt less frantic and much deeper. The bond between them grew stronger every day, as did his contentment. “My forever love,” he whispered into her ear before nuzzling her throat, eliciting a shiver from her. “Shall we eat first, or should we make love before we feast?”
A knock on the door interrupted him, but he kept his wife in his arms. “Enter.”
Hunter walked through the door with a heavy tray balanced upon his right hand. His eyes widened when he beheld the two of them embracing. “Your supper,” he stammered.
“Our thanks, lad.” Robley nodded toward the table set before the hearth. “Put it there, if you please.” He gazed into his wife’s eyes. “Hungry?”
“Not really.”
“Then it’s a feast of the flesh first, and then—”
“Hush.” Her eyes alight, she glanced toward Hunter.
“Begone, lad. I wish to make love to my wife.”
Hunter made a sound of disgust and hurried out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
“You are incorrigible.” Erin laughed.
“Nay.” He worked at undoing the laces of her gown. “I’m blissfully, ecstatically in love with you, and once I get you naked, I intend to show you just how much I hunger. But no’ for food.” Drawing her close, he kissed her, welcoming the need igniting his blood and filling him with the familiar ache in his groin. She was his, and they had all night to satisfy their carnal desires.
He did just that. Twice. He’d never before known such joy and contentment as he found in his love’s arms, and he meant to keep her close until they both grew old and wizened with their grandchildren romping about them. I will not let the faerie take me. His warrior’s mind went to ways he could defeat his foe, for he would defeat him. He had to.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Erin perched on the edge of True’s bed with a drowsy Migizi snuggled warmly against her shoulder. True nursed Bizhiw, while Sky played contentedly with wooden blocks set on a thick Belgian rug. Erin glanced around at True and Malcolm’s chamber. The couple’s personalities showed clearly in the decor. True had woven baskets out of rushes and some out of strips of wood, and they held a lot of her things. A large one was filled with Sky’s toys. A few of Malcolm’s weapons hung out of the children’s reach on one wall, along with True’s bow and a quiver full of arrows.
A lovely harp took up another corner, and everywhere there were piles of baby things and the books True had made for Hunter and Sky. Malcolm had carved the wooden blocks and other toys for his children. The two of them were outstanding parents.
The room Erin and Robley shared was just beginning to reflect their personalities. He’d been teaching her how to play chess, and their board and pieces were set up on their table. Smiling at the memory, she thought about how Rob’s clothing generally fell to the floor at the end of the day, despite the numerous pegs where he could hang them. He often draped his scabbard over the corner of a chair back. A spare pair of his boots stood next to their hearth, and his hand drums leaned against the wall on one side. Bodhran, he called them. She was thankful they were his instrument of choice and not the bagpipes. Smiling at the thought, she savored the intimacy their lives had taken on. She’d never thought it possible.
Since the birth of True’s twins and Erin’s handfasting with Rob, the MacKintosh women had begun to trickle back to Erin for help. She kept a number of items on hand in their room in case she had to assist in a birth during the night. Soon the blacksmith’s son’s wife would be due, and Erin prayed for a safe, ordinary delivery. No surgeries or tragedies, thank you very much. She was due for a simple, straightforward midwifery experience.
That thought had her reviewing the eventful weeks she’d already spent in the fifteenth century. November had quietly slipped into December, and Robley’s thirty days had passed without incident. Nothing had happened. He tried to convince her that the faerie crisis was behind them. The warrior who had sworn to come after him was a no-show, and Rob believed Giselle had intervened on their behalf. She wasn’t so sure.
“You need to have new gowns made,” True said, interrupting her thoughts. “And we’ll have a wardrobe built for your chamber.”
“I suppose. I have a few bolts of wool from the pile of wedding gifts we received, but I have no idea how to sew any kind of clothing. If I had my way, I’d hang out in my jeans all day.”
“I hear you. I still wear my jeans when I hunt, which hasn’t happened for quite some time. You did well enough sewing me back together,” True said, rubbing the spot of her incision. “Believe me, sewing a gown is far easier. I have patterns we can use, and between me, Lydia and Rosemary, we’ll teach you.”
“Thanks. Speaking of making things, I really want to learn how to make the salve you used to prevent your wound from becoming infected. That interests me a lot more than making dresses.”
“It’s a combination of lanolin, honey, royal bee jelly and a variety of roots and herbs known to have antiseptic and antibiotic properties.” True moved the now satisfied Bizhiw to her shoulder to burp him. “Did you know that bacteria won’t grow in honey?”
“No, I didn’t.” She turned to face her. “That reminds me, do you have anything in your arsenal of herbal remedies that might eradicate a strep infection?”
“Hmm. I can make antibacterial teas, but nothing like the antibiotics from our century. I suppose if a person kept drinking the concoction over a long period of time, it might work. Why?”
Erin explained what she suspected was the cause of Alma’s stillborn son. “If strep is the cause, and we can find some way to treat them both, they could go on to have healthy children.”
“Once the nursemaids come to take the children to their nursery for the afternoon, let’s walk to the clinic. I need to stretch my legs, and we can put something together for them. If we give them a month’s worth, maybe it’ll do the trick.” True shot her a pointed look. “Only we aren’t going to talk to them about bacteria or strep. We’ll just say it’s a potion that we hope will help them.”
“Sure.” Erin grinned. “Keep it fifteenth century. Do you have any idea what a relief it is to have someone to talk to without guarding what I say?”
True laughed. “Ditto.” She rose from the chair and put a sleeping Bizhiw in his cradle, gesturing that Erin should do the same with Migizi.
She missed the little bundle of warmth once she set the tiny boy next to his brother.
True kept her voice low and pointed to Sky, who had fallen asleep in the middle of her toys. “We’ve received word that my sister-in-law Elaine and her husband are on their way here. They’ll remain until after the New Year. Liam and his wife will also join us for Christmas. They don’t normally, but because of the birth of Malcolm’s heirs, they’re coming to meet their nephews. They’re only about a day away.” She smiled happily. “We’ll have a full house for the holidays.”
Erin picked up the little girl from the floor and set her on the bed. Thoughts of her own family flooded her mind, and a lump formed in her throat. More than ever it seemed she’d never see them again. Her parents would never meet their grandchildren. Would they even care? A hollow ache spread through her chest. She’d never been that close to her mom, and she couldn’t imagine what kind of grandmother she’d be anyway.
What if she were pregnant right now? From the very first time she’d fallen into bed with Robley, she’d been heedless that they’d done nothing to prevent pregnancy. It wasn’t like her to be so careless, but then she’d never fallen in love before either. She tried to remember when her last period had been.
“It looks like we’re going to have snow soon,” True said, interrupting Erin’s calendar count.
Erin walked toward the window to peer out at the gray day. “Does it get as cold here as it does in Minnesota?”<
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“No, but it does get cold enough to snow, and the snow stays.” A light rapping on the door drew her friend’s attention. An older woman entered, followed by a much younger servant.
“We’ve come for the bairns, milady.” The grandmotherly woman grinned broadly at the sight of the sleeping children. “Och, look at them. Wee angels, they are, all three.”
“Thank you, Ellen. I hope you still think so when the twins are running in opposite directions and getting into all kinds of mischief.” True helped the two women gather up the sleeping children. “I’m going to my stillroom if you should need me.”
“They’re fed and content, milady. We shan’t need ye for a while yet,” Ellen said, her tone confident. “I’ll send a lad for ye when the bairns wake.”
“I should be back before then.” True fetched her cloak from its peg. “Come, Erin. We’ll stop at your chamber on the way.”
Erin led the way to her chamber. Opening the door, she gestured to True to precede her.
“Are you satisfied with your new room?” True sent her a sly look. “And your new husband?”
“I’m very happy with both.” Again the nagging worry reared its serpent-like head. Their problems weren’t really behind them. “I just hope—” Just then, two tones from some kind of horn echoed from the mainland. She frowned. “What’s that?”
“One tone means someone of importance has arrived, two means clan members have returned, and three means danger. When there is danger, the villagers come to the island.” True hurried toward the door. “I don’t know who it could be. It’s too soon for Mairen and Liam to arrive, and I don’t believe we’ll see Elaine for another week or so.”
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