For Love of a Laird (Irvines of Drum Book 1)
Page 15
“Ye are a remarkable woman, my lady. Drum is fortunate to have ye,” Finlay said with a smile.
Clearing his throat, Robert got on his knees between Elizabeth and Finlay, having also seen many foalings but having been involved in none.
“May I ask a favor of ye, my lady? If it isnae too much?” Finlay asked with a shaky voice. “With yer wedding feast happening, I am short-handed out here and there is another horse that is in need of help with a punctured hoof. I hate to ask ye but—”
“I can tend to Aina while ye tend to the other horse, Finlay.”
“I am sorry to ask. But, ye seem capable and she trusts ye and I need to tend the other horse before an infection can set in and I—”
“Really. ’Tis all right. If I am in need of ye, I will call for ye.” Elizabeth smiled sweetly at Finlay and Robert was even more in awe of her than ever. She was indeed stubborn and outspoken but she was capable and kind, as well.
Finlay left and Robert was struck by how calm Elizabeth was while the foal’s hooves protruded from its mother. “All right. Robert. I need ye to soothe her and keep her calm while I attempt to turn the foal, but first…” Reaching around her back, Elizabeth pulled on the string of her bodice, unloosening the garment swiftly before stepping out of her red dress altogether. Naught but a shift was worn beneath and Robert shifted, looking away but not before he saw the impression of her nipples pushing through her sheer white linen.
“Why are ye disrobing?” he asked, doing as she said and speaking softly while stroking the horse’s neck. His heart beat hard in his chest being so close to her in a state of undress, yet he knew there must be a reason for her behavior even if it did serve as a distraction to him.
“My bodice as too tight. I told Matilda but she didnae care. It was hard enough to move at dinner, but I cannae birth a foal with such constrictions.” He nodded, deciding that made perfect sense and also quite glad he was not forced to wear such things on most occasions. The worst he had to endure were hose and a doublet if attending a royal event which, fortunately for him, was almost never, especially with King James still being held by the English.
Getting up on her knees, Elizabeth placed her hands around the hind legs of the foal, looking sideways at Robert. “Are ye ready? This will cause her distress.”
“Aye,” he said and swallowed hard, getting closer to the mare and murmuring reassuring words he was certain she could not understand. He felt completely helpless but, for once, it was refreshing to put trust in someone else’s hands and allow them to take control.
As Elizabeth started to slowly turn the foal, the mare neighed in protest and began bucking her head and her eyes rolled back. “Is she all right?” Robert asked, feeling sorry for the poor creature. He had seen many foalings but never one such as this and never had he assisted, not that he was doing more than comforting her.
“I am doing all I can… to make sure… she is all right,” Elizabeth said panting through clenched teeth and beginning to sweat. A lantern hung on the stall wall but little light was available otherwise. He could see the pained look on Elizabeth’s face mixed with concern and sympathy.
Suddenly, the mare seized and made a horrible sound just as the foal came tumbling out, landing on top of Elizabeth. Robert watched in awe as if everything had slowed down before him. When Elizabeth tumbled backward with the foal on top of her, her arms wrapped around the wee thing’s bloody body, Robert dove for her and put his hand beneath her head.
“Are ye all right, Lizzie?” He looked her up and down but all he could see were long brown limbs, blood, some sort of slimy coating, and Elizabeth sprawled beneath it all.
Pure joy could be heard in her laughter as she landed in a pile of hay behind her. Staring at her, covered in blood and hair all disheveled, she was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her excitement was contagious and his heart felt as if it may burst watching her hold the wee foal in her arms. Someday, she would hold a bairn in a similar way, only that bairn would be his brother’s, not his. Energy filled the space between them when her eyes, full of wonder, locked with his, gold flecks sparkling in their depths. New life had come into this world, filling the barn with a sensation Robert seldom felt any longer: hope. Hope that he could be happy even if he knew the truth of her feelings. He may never have her for his wife, but mayhap just knowing that what he felt, what he saw in her eyes, heard in her laughter, was more than just the excitement of the moment.
“Elizabeth, do ye love Reginald?” He heard the words come from his own mouth, wishing he could immediately take them back when her laughter died and she sat up slowly, propping herself up on her elbows as the foal began to fumble, trying to stand up on its own for the first time. How could five words make the entire mood shift?
“That is an odd question to ask of me in the moment.”
“Is it?”
“Aye. Why does it matter? I had to marry an Irvine, so I did.” Licking her lips, she looked away from him quickly, breaking eye contact as she stared at the flames in the lantern “Love was never something I expected to find,” she whispered.
“So… ye did find it, then?” An ache in his heart pinched at him and he suddenly felt like the walls of the stable were closing in on him. She loved his brother. Even though he could never have her, knowing she would never love him and never had hurt worse than he expected. What a fool he was to ask such a question and allow her answer to affect him so profoundly.
Elizabeth snapped her gaze back to him and petted Aina softly as the foal continued to wobble and fall on her four new legs. “Aye. I did.”
Nodding, Robert closed his eyes and turned away. No longer could he gaze at the only woman he’d ever cared about and listen to her admit to loving his brother. “I am glad for ye.” It was true. Despite the heartache of not being the man she chose, not being the man she loved, Robert simply wanted her to be happy. Yet, she never seemed happy when in Reginald’s presence. She was not unhappy, either, yet her spirit seemed as dull as a rose that had once shone in the sunlight until being neglected too long.
Hearing shuffling in the hay, he looked over his shoulder and saw her stand up, her linen shift covered in Aina’s blood. “I need to change out of this before I put my dress on once more. Can ye… turn around?” Her eyes shifted nervously between him and the floor. He saw her dress tossed into a heap on the ground, covered in hay. If someone came in at this moment, they would wonder what had just happened.
“Of course. I will leave ye now.” Bowing his head, he turned on his heels and began to walk away, feeling the keen need for distance between him and Elizabeth before he sinned and took his brother’s wife in his arms.
“Robert.” Turning around once more, he saw a blush creep up her face in the flickering fire light. “I will need help tying the laces on my surcoat.”
“That… I cannae do that, Lizzie. Mayhap I can go back and find Matilda or another lady, even Reginald. I cannae dress ye.”
A frown crossed her face and her brow crinkled slightly. “I ken ye dinnae care for me much, but I am not asking ye for more than tying me up in back. Ye would rather I stood here in the cold alone while ye fetched someone?”
The air felt thick as he tried to breathe. The pit of his stomach clamped and his heart twisted. She thought he disliked her? “If ye want me to help, I shall.” Turning around, he stared at the foal instead, who was still struggling to get up on her legs without falling over again and bent over to rub Aina’s neck while he awaited.
The sound of footsteps crunching in the fresh hay made Robert stand up quickly and look toward the entry to the stables. The figure of a short, stocky man walked toward him, his features distorted in the shadows. “Evening, my laird,” the deep voice said just as a face came into view, then stopped dead in his tracks, mouth agape.
Elizabeth screeched and ran to Robert, hiding her nude form behind him, desperately trying to cover what she could with the fabric of her dress. Realizing what the scene must look like, Elizabeth
behind him naked, Aina on the floor of the stables, blood and a foal just beginning to walk. He felt Elizabeth gripping his shoulders, burrowing her face into his back. He did not owe anyone an explanation, yet he felt compelled to protect Elizabeth’s honor before anyone believed she would betray her husband. “Lady Elizabeth has safely delivered this foal, but became covered in blood and was simply changing while my back was turned.”
“’Tis not my business, Laird.” Ewan smirked and put his hands up with a shrug, clearly not believing Robert’s story.
Elizabeth gasped behind him, peeking from around his side. He felt her breasts pressing against his back and grit his teeth. How cruel a fate to have the woman he loved pressed against him while nude and he could not see, nor touch her.
“Father!” Elizabeth yelped and buried herself more into his back. “I… this isnae… I would never…”
“Father?” Robert asked, looking at the man he knew as the blacksmith’s father, not Elizabeth’s father. Ewan blanched and started to slowly back away when he saw who was hiding behind him. “Ewan!” Robert roared, stopping the man in his tracks. “What are ye keeping from me, to be backing away with fear in yer eyes? Why is the Lady of Drum, who is a Keith, calling ye father?” He had no idea what was happening, but he knew deep in his gut that something was off. Elizabeth seemed distraught and nervous in the man’s presence and Ewan looked as if he had seen a ghost.
Ewan stuttered something unintelligible before muttering, “He paid me to do it. I needed to feed my family…”
“Do what?” Robert demanded, clenching his fists. He did not like secrets being kept, especially ones that seemed to cause distraught to the Lady of Drum.
“He is the cleric who married me and Reginald, Robert. Mayhap Reginald paid him for his service. But I vow, Father, this isnae what it appears,” Elizabeth said beseechingly. He could feel her shaking against him and knew how much her faith meant to her. To be caught undressed with her husband’s brother must be making her feel like the wanton he had once accused her of being. Shame would always consume him every time he remembered that moment and his cruel treatment of her. He would never forgive himself, for he had lost her in that moment, practically drove her into his brother’s arms. And now she was in love with Reginald. Only…
The wheels in his mind continued to turn for what felt like an eternity of silence as anger and relief warred within. How could Ewan have married them legally? He could not have. She was not married…
“Laird?”
“Robert?”
Both of them called to him, knocking him out of his thoughts. “Ewan. I am not done with ye. Go now. I will decide what to do with ye later.”
“Aye, my laird.” Tipping his head, Ewan scuttled off faster than Robert had suspected the man could move.
“What was that all about? Why was he so frightened?” Elizabeth asked from behind him. He felt her weight ease off his back, heard the sounds of fabric rustling. Keeping his back turned, he stayed silent until she was ready for him to tie her laces.
Feeling a tap on his shoulder, he turned to see Elizabeth mostly dressed, with just her shoulders and back exposed as she held the front to her chest. Putting his hands on her shoulders, he took a deep breath and decided to simply tell her the truth.
“Elizabeth. Ye arenae truly married to Reginald.” And, Robert would gut his brother for lying to her and sharing her bed.
Chapter Fourteen
Her body shook both from the chill of the night seeping through the wooden slats of the stables and from her rattled nerves. When the priest who married her and Reginald came in and caught her undressed, she knew he would assume the very worst of her, yet she still remained untouched by any man. Hiding behind Robert had been her only option, yet he felt so warm and safe despite the circumstances.
The interaction between Robert and Father Ewan continued to play repeatedly through her mind, the last bit making no sense whatsoever. Why would Robert say she was not married to Reginald? Even now, as his hands rested on her bared shoulders, his words slowly infiltrated her mind. His grip tightened and she felt him shake. His touch felt like the sweetest sin, the grandest temptation of her life. How she wished his words to be true, to be able to undo her folly.
“Did ye hear me?” His breath, soft and warm, caressed her earlobe, causing chills to run up her neck.
“I hear ye, but I dinnae ken what ye mean,” she responded softly, closing her eyes and enjoying the feel of his nimble fingers tugging at the ties of her bodice.
For a long while, all she heard was his deep breathing and she wondered what he was thinking, what he was trying to say that had him unable to speak. Once she felt him tie off the strings, she turned around to face him, looking up at his height and frowning at the look of pain and anger in his glazed over eyes. “Are ye angry at me? I am sorry I put ye in this position… I will explain it to Reginald… he will understand and—”
“Wheesht, Lizzie!” he growled and ran his hands through his dark hair. His dimple showed in the flicker of the light and she longed to reach out and touch his beard, to soothe whatever hurt he felt, yet she somehow, without words, understood that she was the reason for his pain. “Ye said ye love Reginald, aye?”
Looking away, Elizabeth pursed her lips and crossed her arms, missing the warmth of his touch only moments ago. Now he was cold and distant, asking questions she did not wish to answer, appearing ready to punch a hole through the walls of the stables. The foal had long ago found her footing and began to nurse on Aina, so Elizabeth slowly shut the door to their stall, knowing they were doing well and that Finlay would be back soon.
“Ye willnae answer my question.”
“I dinnae wish to.”
“Why not? Is it so hard to admit ye love yer husband?”
“Nay.” She scowled at him, not liking his harsh tone or how he went from tender to aggressive in the span of a moment. Yet, what hurt the most was being so close to him, having felt his touch on her, knowing it was wrong but enjoying it anyway, knowing she can never be his.
“Then why can ye not just say the words?” he barked, causing her to flinch.
“Why do ye care so much if I do?” she shouted back, pushing against the solid expanse of his chest. “Stop shouting at me! I have done naught to ye! Why do ye always become so angry with me? Why do ye hate me?” She felt tears begin to brim in her eyes, but forced herself to stay strong. He did not deserve her tears.
“For all that is holy, ye frustrating woman! Can ye not see it? I dinnae hate ye! I love ye! I love ye so much that I feel ill to my stomach every time I think of ye with my brother! I feel like ye tore my heart out and stomped on it every time I remember that ye chose him over me! And right now, I feel so utterly lost wanting to kiss ye until ye cannae breathe, and kenning that ye dinnae want the same from me! I may not be a perfect man, Elizabeth. I made mistakes and I apologized for them. I didnae want to love ye. Marrying ye meant my brother was dead. I would have come to terms with it and been happy to marry ye, but ye gave me nay chance! Ye ran off with Reg! Ye wee fool. I could have loved ye better than him!”
Now tears ran down her face like a torrential storm, blinding her with their constant flow. Her heart shuddered in her chest and she folded her arms over her stomach, feeling as if she would be ill. “Robert… I… am sorry. I cannae say how I feel without being unfaithful!” Sliding down the wall of the stables, she huddled into a ball, pulling her knees up protectively into her chest. “I have erred gravely,” she sobbed into her arms. “For ’tis not Reginald I love.”
Taking two large strides closer to her, Robert kneeled down in front of her and placed his hands on her knees. “Who do ye love then, lass?”
Looking up, she locked gazes with him and shook her head. She could not, would not, say the words. She had chosen this path, and Reginald had saved her by marrying her. She would not betray him by confessing her love to his brother.
“Ye arenae married to Reginald, Elizabeth. Not in truth.”
“Nay. I cannae understand why and I vow I will get answers, but Ewan isnae a clergyman. He cannae have married ye legally nor in the eyes of the Lord. And believe me when I tell ye that I will make Reginald suffer greatly for having bed ye while ye believed him to be yer husband. What he has done is worth casting him out!” he growled.
“Robert… I am not married?” How could that be? Why? What purpose did fooling her into a marriage serve? Did Matilda know? Thinking back on the last few days and how oddly her friend had been behaving, a wave of sadness washed over her. Matilda knew. Humiliation was a new emotion for her, and it did not sit well in the pit of her belly. Yet relief, somehow, was her predominant emotion. She was not married to a man she did not love, and the man she did love had just confessed to feeling the same for her.
“Robert, I dinnae ken why they did this, but I do ken that Matilda was in on it. She has been acting strangely. Still, there are two verra important things I must tell ye before we do aught else. The first thing is that Reginald hasnae shared my bed. Nor did Alexander. I am a maiden still, I vow it. Whatever Reginald’s intentions, he didnae take advantage of me. He has been kind and proper, keeping his distance and behaving rather detached. I simply didnae mind because… well, because the second thing I must confess is… I love ye, as well, Robert. ’Tis ye I fell in love with. None other. I have loved ye since the night ye comforted me on the battlements.”
“Ye love me, lass?” Robert said softly and his features smoothed out, years of stress and pain seeming to vanish before her eyes.
“Aye, I do. I was a fool to think marrying Reginald would be the safe choice. I wanted to avoid the pain of love, the pain of losing someone I loved or never having the love in return. I felt like a life of duty was preferable to loving someone until it became a weakness. But, I was wrong. Nothing hurt more than not being able to tell ye how I felt. To believing I would have to life with this pain for the rest of my life. I cannae understand why he did what he did but, right now, I am too happy to care.”