by Paula Quinn
“They did not survive the pestilence,” Sarah told her, dabbing her eyes. “Nor did anyone in their families. They lived in London. Most there died. It was not so bad in Hastings where father and I remained.”
Everyone was quiet for a few moments in respect of the dead. Then Lily went back to her father. She couldn’t keep from staring at him. “Papa, from whom did you receive such a letter?”
She saw Elias coming from the path to Alan’s house with Charlie and wanted to call out to him. Her father! Her father had found her!
“’Twas from a man called Elias MacPherson.”
Her father’s words sank deep. From Elias. She wasn’t surprised that he had done such a thoughtful thing for her. But she would never stop loving him more for each thing he did. But this…when had he…how had he…?
“Is he here, Lily?” her father asked her. “Is he here so that I may thank him for bringing back my dear babe to me and doubly so since you will soon give me a grandchild?”
“He is here, Papa,” she told him. “He is my husband.”
“Elias!” She went to him and set her teary, loving gaze on him. “’Tis my father. How did you find him?”
“I didna. I sent my letter to a friend of mine, the Earl of Pembroke, Baron Hastings, and asked him to look into findin’ them. I wasna certain he could.”
He greeted his new “kin” with open arms and well wishes and announced to everyone that there would be a celebration tonight in his great hall—the one he built onto the house with the red roof, down the hall from the three bedchambers for his children, separate from the bedchamber he shared with Lily above stairs.
Norman invited her father and half-sister to stay in Sevenoaks if they wished. They had two cottages that were still empty. Alice’s and Clare’s.
Two hours later, plans for the celebration were halted while Lily labored with her child. She was a month early and everyone was afraid it was too soon. But the newest MacPherson was coming whether they were ready or not.
Cecily Lizbeth MacPherson was very small, but she came into the world screaming, only to be quieted at her mother’s breast.
Elias had never left Lily’s side, holding her hand and feeding her tea, prescribed by her father. He was the first one to hold his baby daughter in his arms. The second was her grandfather, and then her siblings.
“I am goin’ to miss yer belly,” Elias said, lying down with her and the babe later that night and running his hand over her considerably smaller stomach.
She giggled and leaned into him, sleeping Cecily between them. “Is everyone eating?”
“Aye,” he told her. “The lasses have taken care of the birthin’ bed and everyone has gone to Norman and Hild’s house so ye could rest quietly with the babe.”
She smiled, loving them all so much, thankful for those she had left. She wouldn’t leave them. She would visit Invergarry, but she would live here with her family, with her father and Sarah. She could scarcely believe it was real. She had Elias to thank for all of it. She would never stop thanking him. She would never stop loving him in life or in death.
Her smile grew looking at him. “I am happy.”
“I am happy, too.” His smile was just as bright.
She giggled at them both, and then yawned. “Are you going to Norman’s? I am hungry. And bring my father back with you,” she added, calling out before he left.
She lay in bed for a little while staring at her new daughter.
She was fair, like Lily, and she was already strong-willed, like both her parents.
Lily wiped her eyes and leaned down to kiss Cecily’s head. She looked up to see Charlie standing in the doorway.
“May I come in?”
“Of course, my love,” Lily replied, her joy overflowing as he stepped inside and came close to the bed.
“How is my sister?” he asked, gleaming down at her.
“She is well.”
“Thank you for calling her Cecily. I love her already.”
She was about to reply when she caught a movement out of the corner of her eyes coming up the stairs.
Lily didn’t move at the sight of Bertram standing at the doorway. Charlie was just as still, his back to the man who had taken her childhood from her.
He would take no more.
She sat up and shielded her babe from him, then reached under the blanket for her knife. She knew he’d come back one day. She’d been prepared.
Bertram tried to speak but was unable and growled at her instead.
Lily pulled the knife free at the same time Charlie turned his body and flung a knife of his own at him. The two blades hit their mark in Bertram’s throat.
They watched him fall to the floor.
Lily was quite stunned. She’d known Elias wanted to teach Charlie to throw, but goodness, he was good at it.
“Charlie—”
He turned and smiled at her over his shoulder. “I have been practicing, Mother.”
“You saved us,” she said tenderly.
“We both saved us,” he replied smiling. He threw his arms around her and told her he loved her and Elias, Eddie, Annabelle, and now Cecily.
They both scowled at Elias when he shouted from the doorway with Bertram at his feet, “What the hell is this?” loud enough to shake the walls and wake the babe.
“’Tis Bertram!” Lily told him happily then watched him hand over the tray of food he had for her to her father and then drag the body away.
Elias was still shaken though they were unharmed and came into the room. “Charlie, is that yer knife in his throat with yer mother’s?”
When the boy nodded, Elias’ glittering gaze met his son’s. “Come here to me.”
When Charlie went, Elias cupped the boy’s face in his hands. “‘Tis a serious thing to take a life. We will speak of this later.”
“This is another thing I’m thankful to be here to see,” Lily’s father said, looking down at Bertram. “The death of the man who took my child from me.”
Elias, still pale, went to his wife and took her in his arms.
“Do not be hard on Charlie, my love,” she whispered into his dark, glossy locks. “He is growing up.”
He nodded then kissed her head. “He will be a good man.”
She heard the sound of her soon-to-be three year old running down the hall to her room. He squealed with laughter at Annabelle chasing him.
“May I hold my new granddaughter?” Lily’s father asked. “And perhaps later you will tell me of your life.”
“The past no longer matters, Papa,” she said, handing the babe to him. “This, right here, is what matters.” She wiped her eyes but the tears did not stop.
She didn’t mind them anymore. They were there to water her roots and make her stronger.
She had everything she had ever wanted, and she had Elias MacPherson to thank.
The End