“Neil, you can finish for me,” Sarah answered as she rounded the edge of the hall and began her trek back to the fire to warm her currently chilled hands.
“Why bother?” Neil teased her as he perused the nearly finished game. “You have but five remaining pieces.”
Sarah snarled at him before shaking her head in defeat. “Sorry about that. It’s a bit hard to concentrate with the conga line going on in my belly.” To emphasize her point, her hands followed the internal movements that had her breaths coming in halted gasps.
Evan rose to hold her elbow and his hand pushed hers aside. “She is quite busy for such a foul eve.” His bright green gaze widened at a hearty kick. “Strong, like her mother.”
The men chuckled, and Sarah forced her mind to savor the moment. The joke had become rampant; it had to be a daughter given the strength of the movements. But then whispers would follow that she wasn’t supposed to acknowledge. That such kicks heralded a strong son, an heir in the making. But only Brenda, Peter, Evan, and Lena knew the whole of it, why the movements were so hearty and why she appeared to have swallowed a beach ball on steroids.
The next assault from her womb nearly knocked her to her knees and had everyone on their feet. Sarah held up her hand to prevent them from rushing her. Catching her breath as Bella nuzzled her belly, Sarah slowly blew out a breath. “That was a big kick.” When she relaxed, the crowd resettled to an uneasy silence.
“Lighten up, everyone. We all know it’s easily going to be well over a moon. If you panic now, you’ll be useless when I do need you.” Her forced levity brought a few sighs of relief, but Lena had approached to stand at her other side.
“Mayhap you should retire for the night,” Lena suggested, right on cue. The woman had two approaches, eat or rest.
“Not going to sleep until the commotion stops.” Sarah held the woman’s worried and tired eyes. Lena had begun sleeping with her, partly to keep an eye on her and partly to conserve firewood. Brenda didn’t want her alone anymore given her girth and inability to see her feet. But Sarah slept fitfully. Uncomfortable given her advanced pregnancy, mixed with the wondering about Conall, meant sleep eluded her. Over a month had passed since refugees had brought news of him and not knowing was slowly driving her mad.
Most of the keep’s residents had doubled up, per Evan’s directive to conserve firewood, a smart and prudent plan. The only ones with no complaints were Peter and Neil. Their relationship remained a taboo subject, so silence was golden.
Once again stable, Sarah let Evan and Lena escort her to the chair before the fire, so she could sit and appear to relax, if only to make them happy. But internal somersaults and acrobatics again caught her off guard. To make it worse, Bella had begun to whimper and circle her legs, as if daring her to keep her balance before reaching the chair.
Chills ran down her spine and Sarah grabbed Evan’s arm for support. The cold became heat and her belly bulged with the pushes and kicks. Bella barked incessantly as she circled, and Sarah cried out as warmth spread from her spine to reach the ends of her fingers and toes.
“Sarah?” Peter asked from in front of her, with Neil at his side. Both men were a picture of panic when she only felt a surge of elation.
She couldn’t understand their terrified eyes as tears began to fall down her cheeks. “Open the gates,” her choked whisper left her trembling lips.
“Why?” Evan asked, but Peter knew, and his grin answered.
“Are you sure?” Peter questioned with expectation and hope written on his features.
“Yes,” Sarah voice came through stronger. “He’s back. I can feel him.” Her belly wriggled, and Bella squirmed around her legs. But she knew what she was feeling; the long absent tingles that signaled Conall was near, once again filling every cell in her body. While faint, the intensity built with each passing second.
“Have the gates opened and bring torches to the courtyard,” Peter commanded to several of the warriors. Even if the order seemed insane given the sleet, the men rose and grabbed plaids to protect them from the elements. “The laird is home.”
“My brother?” Evan gasped in surprise.
Sarah nodded and pushed Evan away. She wanted no one touching her as her body came back to life from the dormant state that had become her existence. I need to savor this.
The formerly sedate hall flew to ordered commands. Lena called for the serving women to heat wine and bring dry blankets. Neil fled the hall to prepare the stables for horses that would need care. But Peter remained in front of her.
Relief at Conall’s return changed as the bustle of activity left her motionless. Her mind whirled and elation morphed into anxiousness with her stomach churning and heartbeat racing. But it was Peter who spoke. “What is it?”
Sarah closed her eyes and covered her belly that pushed and thumped against her hands. I’m not the only one who can feel him. Giving voice to the dark thoughts that haunted her dreams, Sarah whispered the forbidden. “He’s been gone for over seven months. I only knew him for a few weeks. What if. . .” The question died on her lips, as if saying it out loud would make it true.
What if Conall doesn’t still love me? What if we only shared a brief affair?
Peter lifted her chin and silently asked for her eyes to open. When she gathered her courage, she stared into hazel eyes that didn’t know any more than she did. “Only one way to find out.” His gaze drifted to the door that led to the courtyard. The chill from the open door already permeated the hall and gave her the excuse to shiver.
Sarah nodded and turned to face Conall’s arrival. Her feet waddled to the door that would answer the questions no one would want to ask. From outside, there were shouts to open the gates, and that riders were approaching with one in the lead. Sarah knew that rider would be Conall with the tingles strong and steady. Bella stayed at her heels with whimpers and a tail that wagged hard enough to move her whole body while Peter draped a clan plaid over her head and around her body.
Sarah barely felt the brutal cold as she stepped outside. The wind whipped her heavy wool skirts to blow in front of her as her heart raced and threatened to burst from desire mixed with apprehension. Then she saw him, the outline of the man on a massive stallion appearing through the dark night and icy rain. It didn’t matter that he was draped in a plaid, his features hidden. Every fiber of her being recognized Conall.
The dark stallion stopped roughly five feet from her. Her gaze started at the boots, then lifted to the legs covered with leather and then hidden behind the clan’s colorful plaid. His torso took on epic proportions covered in what appeared to be a coat made of shearling. The face remained shadowed by the fabric for seven seconds until gloved hands pushed it back.
Sarah stumbled on her feet at the sight of Conall’s dark hair slick with sleet, an unkempt beard hiding his powerful jaw and his burning gaze locked on hers. Others had also ridden in, but Sarah had no idea who, with her sole focus locked on Conall’s chest filling with a deep breath to either complete or destroy her world.
The deep baritone of his voice had her belly rolling with more commotion. “I can feel you once again, sweet Sarah. Tell me that you can feel me.” The remark came out as a plea that had tears streaming down her cheeks.
“I can feel you,” she called back as she choked on a sob. “I knew you were home.”
Conall leapt from the horse and Bella ran to greet him with barks and by pushing her body against his thighs. When she began to step toward him, Peter held her back. He leaned in to whisper in her ear. “If you stay where you are, the wind moves the plaid enough to hide the pregnancy. Find out what you need to know.”
Sarah stilled and nodded. She needed to be wanted for who she was, not the life they had created. Too many sleepless nights had led to that personal revelation.
Conall bent to rub Bella and then gently pushed the dog back to step forward and pull Evan in for a massive hug. The wind stole their greeting, but she caught all the visual cues of a blissful reunion
. When Evan stepped aside, Sarah caught the limp and briefly covered her mouth with her hands to prevent a gasp from escaping. “Another wee scratch?”
From the light spilling from the front doors, she caught Conall’s lips twitch. “Aye, wife. I hope you dinna mind a few more marks to my skin.”
That he called her wife told her most of what she needed to know. Sarah lifted her gaze from the legs that stopped a foot away. She wanted to smile, but his gaze held such raw sadness that she found bliss hard to find. “You said you’d be home for the harvest. You’re very late.”
“I have far too much for which to apologize. How will you ever forgive me, Sarah?” Pain laced his words and the mere inches between felt like a wide chasm to her skin.
“Well, you finally made it. Did you come home to me?” The question begged what she had no ability to express. He had once promised he would.
The burning green of his eyes nearly glowed. “Aye, Sarah. I have waited countless nights to once again hold you.”
Whether she moved, Peter nudged or Conall stepped closer, Sarah didn’t know and didn’t care. Gloves were pulled off and thrown to the cobblestones right before chilled and calloused hands surrounded her face. But one didn’t stay there; it shifted to push into her hair just like she remembered. In a flash, her hair-tie fell to the cobblestones and the wind wiped her unruly mane.
His icy lips pressed against hers at the same moment his body halted, impeded by the belly between them. He gasped as she smiled against his lips. The hand in her hair gripped her curls while the other one dropped to run over the rambunctious mound.
She pulled back to see his eyes close and his lips expel a ragged breath. Then he dropped to his knees to press his bearded cheek to her belly. Thumps and bumps shifted inside her, life striving toward contact with him. With the layers covering her, she barely felt the kiss he offered her stomach before he rose to stand. Leaning close, he whispered against her mouth. “I prayed to find you with our bairn. Never will you ken how grateful I am.”
Sarah felt his body shake as his lips pressed against hers, a kiss that tasted of her tears, the icy cold covering his skin and banished fears. Conall savored her lips, groaned into her mouth and she relished the heat long absent from her life.
Her sobs broke them apart and his forehead rested against hers as it had so long ago. Strong fingers stroked the shorter lengths of hair at the base of her neck. “Such a fine gift you gave me. I have it still.”
Her hands ran over his bearded cheeks, explored his neck and gripped the layers of material protecting him from the elements. Before she could speak, she gasped at the internal thump that reached out to where Conall’s hand covered her. “I think we are all so happy you’re home.”
Conall pressed his mouth hard against hers. “I rode with such fears and all have vanished. You have saved me.”
His delight in the pregnancy sounded extreme, but she’d greedily take it. “I didn’t want to do this alone. I think this time you’re saving me.”
“How about we all are saved and you let me hug him?” Peter asked from her side. Conall pressed another kiss to her mouth before he wrapped one arm around Peter, and his other stayed on her belly.
Peter pulled back and his gaze fell behind Conall. “Looks like you’ve brought some friends with you.”
Conall nodded as he pulled Sarah as close as possible and kissed her soundly. “Aye, the Bruce has come. We have matters to finally put to rest.”
Sarah’s eyes widened as she pulled back. “You brought home Robert the Bruce?”
“And others,” Conall seemed to spit out. “With good fortune, all will leave quickly.”
Peter scrambled away and she heard his call to Lena and her answering screams for guest rooms to be readied, fires lit, and food to be served. Sarah thought she should have found humor in finally rattling the stalwart housekeeper, but could only stare in wonder at the man before her. You came back to me.
“I will introduce you,” Conall purred down at her. “Sarah, how I have missed you.” His lips again crushed hers before sliding over her cheek to place his mouth next to her ear. “Forgive me for being so long from your side.”
His plea had more tears streaming down her cheeks to mix with the sleet. “I forgive you.” The absolution was easy to find with his body against hers. Her breath came out with shaky sobs. “I missed you so much.”
“Sarah. . . I.” Conall began against the shell of her ear, his whiskers tickling her skin.
“Conall,” a deep male voice intruded from the courtyard.
Though summoned, Conall stayed in the doorway with her, hands holding her in place. “Dinna touch the slick courtyard, I have too many fears you would fall.” His arms banded around her shoulders, squeezing her tight against his side. Her hand gripped the damp plaid covering his back while the other covered his hand on her belly.
With an absent nod, she took in the legendary ruler who had kept the man she loved away from her. Looks like I may have some issues with the Bruce. He dismounted and stalked toward them, mindless of the slippery stones. In seconds, dark eyes glared at her and had her leaning closer to Conall. He doesn’t like me either. Gloved hands pushed off his head coverings to reveal a square-shaped head, supported by a muscular neck and framed by dark hair. His appearance suggested a warrior, rather than one who stood back and let others fight for him.
Robert’s lips snarled before he chastised them. “I ordered you to wait for the carriage.”
Conall laughed, seeming to not care about angering the ruler. “You think I would wait with lights from my keep in my sights? For too long I have missed my wife and my home.” Conall offered a slight bow to the irritated Bruce. “May I present my wife, Lady Sarah of the Draig Clan.”
While rather formal, she had no idea what etiquette dictated so she smiled and attempted a curtsy, only to have Conall grip her tightly. His voice spoke for her. “Forgive my wife.” Using both of his hands, Conall pushed the fabric around her to mold around her belly, displaying the sight. “She is too round with my bairn to properly offer her respects.”
As the figure straight out of history walked toward her, Bella stood in front of her, clearly on guard duty. A low growl came from the animal and only after Conall softly reprimanded her, did Bella quiet. Finding her voice, she managed, “Welcome to Draig lands.”
Instead of a polite response, the Bruce chuckled. “Many a man has come home to find a rounded wife, even after long absences.”
Did he just insinuate that I’m trying to pass off another man’s child on my husband? What the hell?
Evan broke the uneasy silence that spread between them at the thinly veiled insult. “Well, dinna look at me. I arrived home to find her such.” With a wink to her, he strode forward to clasp the Bruce’s arm. “Welcome.” After backs were slapped and arms dropped, Evan took charge and introduced Peter.
“You honor us,” Peter managed, still stunned by the arrival and the accusation.
Conall ran his hand over her belly with his gaze locked on Robert. “I left to join you with hope for a bairn alive in my heart, only days left to be counted. Rejoice with me for the Draig line continues.”
Given Robert’s scowl, I think Conall just claimed paternity.
“We will talk,” Robert answered before turning to the grating sound of wheels and hooves crunching over ice. “Come, Conall, let us welcome your guests.” With a pause, the Bruce left them and headed for what Sarah could only describe as an ornate carriage complete with roof and doors.
Looks like something out of a movie.
“Who else is here?” Sarah asked Conall as she pressed against his side. Not that she cared; she only wanted everyone inside and settled so she could have him alone. She had no idea how many men bustled passed them, herded by Evan into the warmth of the hall.
Conall stiffened briefly at her side before pressing his lips to her temple despite the wind tossing her hair over her skin. “They are the reason I am so delayed. Robert wished to occu
py their keep and control their fate. The siege took months and yet we were victorious.” He shifted to again cup her face with his eyes boring into hers, his green alive and joyful. “They mean naught to us.” One hand dropped to cover the wiggling mass in her belly. “They mean naught.”
“Conall,” Robert bellowed from the side of the carriage. “Be a fine laird and welcome guests to your lands.” Sarah heard it, the challenge and a hint of confrontation.
After blowing out a frustrated breath, Conall grinned at her. “Inside with you.” His hands smoothed over her frazzled curls. “Already, you are cold and damp.”
“Says the man with ice in his beard,” Sarah quipped as she pulled a sliver of frozen water from his whiskers.
He called over her head, “Peter, take Sarah inside.” After a soft press to her lips, Conall strode toward the carriage, stopping briefly to speak with Neil, who held the reins of Conall’s horse in his hands.
“He needs,” Conall began.
Neil pulled him in for a massive embrace and then laughed. “Aye, Laird, I ken what he needs. You take care of your wife and I will see to the horses, as always.”
With a glance over his shoulder at her, Conall’s hand shooed her toward the door. “Inside.”
She didn’t fight Peter gently guiding her back indoors but stopped as soon her feet landed in the hall. “I’m good here. I need to keep him in sight.” Bella trotted with her, keeping her watch. He’s home. I can’t believe he came finally came back. Relief blurred with excitement at the certainty he had finally returned.
With his hand on her shoulder, Peter corrected, “We need find out who’s in the carriage and why they are here.”
Sarah laughed but didn’t turn to face him. “Can’t you stop being paranoid for two minutes? Conall’s home, be happy.”
“Oh, I’m happy, but something is up, I can feel it.”
“Spidey-sense working overtime or is there bad mojo in the Force?” Sarah teased as her gaze followed Conall to the carriage.
The Draig's Choice Page 42
