Full Mackintosh

by Deb Kemper

  Garth stared, propped at her shoulder, still supporting his wife from behind. His son suckled at her breast, tiny fists curled up next to his face. Himself kissed her cheek. “Thank ye fer convincin’ me to take part.”

  She turned her head toward him. “My pleasure, husband.”

  “Ye’ve called me husband twice in the past few minutes, as though I’ve no other name. Is there a reason?”

  “Just reminding you who you are. Why were you on the stairs, not two minutes behind me leavin’ the hall?” She admired her son.

  Millie interrupted with a heavy sigh. “Let’s get her to bed, master. Then ye two can fuss.”

  “Not fussin’, Millie….” Amalie pleaded.

  “Yah, yah, yah, ye’re fussin’. The finest thing in five years jest happened. Forget yer differences and enjoy this moment.” Her hands were busy as she scolded them.

  Garth stood and took the baby from his wife, placed a kiss on his wet, red-haired noggin. “Millie’s right, my heart. There’re words need sayin’ but not right now.” He handed his son to Millie and squatted before Amalie, wrapping his massive arms under her, he lifted her straight up. “Now, to bed.” He helped her to the bed and covered her to her waist as she situated herself, reclining on pillows.

  He took his son from his chatelaine and placed him back at his wife’s breast. The infant nuzzled her hungrily and took his meal.

  Gerty’s blond head poked in the door. “Shall I fetch the girls, sir?”

  “Nay…give us a few minutes. Ye may tell them they have a brother though.” He pulled a chair up to the side of the bed, sat, then decided he wasn’t close enough.

  Millie left them, closing the door behind her.

  Garth rounded the bed and climbed into it from the other side. He lay on his stomach facing Amalie. He kissed the top of her bare breast.

  “I was on my way to yer room to check on ye. I heard Gerty hollerin’ when I was halfway up the stairs.”

  “Why were ye checkin’ on me?” Her eyebrow rose but her gaze fixed on their son.

  “Ye ken the answer, but ye’ll make me say it, will ye?”

  “I don’t wanna be mistaken.” She smiled sweetly at him and glanced back at the braw boy in her arms. He had Garth’s nose and wide forehead. Her finger traced the widow’s peak of his hairline, shallow now but it would deepen, like his da’s. She stole a look at her husband again and waited.

  “Quentin approached me in the hall after he spoke with ye. I came to see if ye were packin’ to leave me.” He laid his heart out before her.

  “I was comin’ to my room to have our son. Why would you think I’d prefer Quentin to you? I love him like a brother. You’re my husband. I swore before God, I’d be yours ’til one of us dies. I meant it.” She rolled her dark eyes. “Do you not remember that I could’ve had him? I didn’t want him then, not now either. I didn’t give birth to your girls but I could no more abandon them than you could. You said the night we became betrothed I’d made my bed with you. So I have.”

  He nodded, still unsure. “It’s not been much of a marriage bed the past few months.”

  “And what’s that about?” She switched her son to her right breast where he attached himself eagerly. She chuckled at his impatience.

  Garth appeared unsure. He checked to see if she was willing to hear him out. At her nod, he continued. “A fortnight before Jessie was born I went in to Mary. I paid little heed to her protests. I’d had a bit to drink and lust ruled me. She died.”

  Amalie frowned, her voice softened. “That’s what you think? You had her; therefore she died in childbirth a full fortnight later.”

  He nodded, a frown etching his brow.

  She shook her head. “That’s got nothing to do with her death, Garth. Most likely someone tending to her had dirty hands. Millie’s told me that Mary was frail.”

  “Aye, but I forced attentions on her and she wasn’t as cooperative as she coulda been.”

  “Was she wounded when you left her, bleedin’?” She probed gently.

  “Nay, but she cried and accused me of hurtin’ her. I wasn’t rough or drunk. Mary wasn’t as….” He searched for the word.

  “Lustful?” She offered soberly.

  He grinned. “Perhaps she wasn’t as eager, as ye, fer my attention.” He watched his son, rubbed the fuzz on his cheek with the side of his thumb. “I dinna want to risk losin’ ye or hurtin’ the babe. I can’t seem to be in a room with ye that I don’t wanna strip ye naked and ravish yer body. The bigger ye got with him the more I craved ye.”

  “Then you should’ve come to me.” She dreaded the answer but had to ask. “Did you go to another?”

  He frowned up into her beauty. “Nay, I’ve not had another woman since ye came to me. There’s been no other woman since the day I handed Quentin my sporran to redeem ye. Yer all I want and need. I promised ye. Why would ye say such a thing to me?”

  “When you’re away, I sometimes go to your room.”

  “Ye go to my room?”

  “Aye, to sleep with your scent, since I’m not gettin’ the real man. Have I done something wrong, failing to be summoned?”

  He smiled at her insolence. “No, go on.”

  “There’s a woman there occasionally, at your bed.” She paled.

  “Who?” He frowned. God, don’t let that woman haunt me.

  “I don’t know her. She has dark hair and it’s….I haven’t even told Millie.” Tears slipped from her eyes.

  He felt a cold breeze blow over him. “Anybody can come and go here at will. And ye been thinkin’ I have a woman and I’d take her to our marriage bed?” He rubbed his face with both hands, widening his eyes.

  “Aye.” She plucked at the flannel covering their son.

  “I wish ye’d told me, Amalie. I’d have straightened ye out about that.”

  “I never see you, Garth, to tell you anything. You should’ve come to me with your desires. Even if I can’t be with you I can still…take care of you.” She blushed to the dark red roots of her hair.

  His mouth dropped. “How’d ye ken such things?”

  “My stepmother taught me what a woman has to do to keep her husband happy. She was concerned she might not be handy when I married so she told me when I was betrothed. She was very instructive in bedroom matters, not that it took the place of the actual experience, mind you.” She smiled down at her son.

  He chuckled. “Oh, my little virginal lamb came with lessons.”

  “Well, Jews tend to be practical people. When there’s usually a price on your head, you enjoy what you have. We learn about life from a realistic point of view, through scripture.”

  “And physical mating’s in the Bible?” He rose to his hands and knees beside her.

  She smiled knowingly. ‘“All over the place. ‘Kiss me with the kisses of your mouth….’”

  He lunged for her. “Gladly.” He covered her mouth with his and enjoyed the sweetness of her kiss.

  Breathless, she pulled back. “As long as we’re on the subject of truth, I have a question.”

  “What?” He smiled to offer her confidence.

  “When first I came to you, I was told you don’t call Jessica by her first name because you’re still so aggrieved at the loss of your wife. Is that yet true?”

  “Nay, I named her Mary Jessica. I wanted her to have something of her mam. I don’t call her Mary because I don’t want that burden on her. Ye ken? She mi’ feel like she was the cause of Mary’s death.” He rubbed his knuckle across his chin before he continued. “Mary was given to me. Our fathers made the deal when her clan came into the Chattan fer protection. She was a bonnie lass.” He shrugged. “Why not? I had to marry somebody. I was verra fond of her, as we came to know each other, and honestly thought no greater love existed for a wife.”

  “I see, rather like one of your dogs?” Amalie smoothed her son’s brow.

  “Amalie, I chose ye, not just because ye’d give me fine braw boys. I chose ye against my own will. I never
wanted anything more in my life. If I have to walk away from all I am to keep ye, I’ll gladly go.” He studied her concentration on his son and felt a pang of jealousy.

  She opened her mouth and closed it again. She finally glanced up to meet his eyes. “I’m honored, sir. I never knew I could love anyone like I love you.”

  He grinned and stretched to her mouth for another kiss. “May we have many years ahead of us lovin’ this way.”

  “Aye. The fire should’ve warmed the dressin’ room by now. Let’s get Gerty in here to bathe and dress our son so his sisters can meet him.”

  “I have to send fer Quentin. I need fer him to know…that our marriage isn’t the ruin he imagines and that ye’re happy to stay with yer family. I don’t want him spreadin’ discontent.” His angst showed.

  She laid her palm on his hard cheek and smiled. “That’s great wisdom, sir.”

  Mallow and Jessica eased through the door of Amalie’s bedroom. Quiet as mice, they approached the bed where their father lounged with a smile.

  Amalie held their son and motioned to the girls. “Jessie, go round to Da and climb up. You can hold him if you like. Gerty cleaned your hands well?”

  “Aye, Mam.” They responded in unison.

  Mallow inched as close as she could, a silly smile plastered on her face. She clambered up beside Amalie who laid the baby into her eager arms.

  “What’re we namin’ him?” Jessica crawled across the bed and peeked over Mallow’s shoulder.

  “Do ye have ideas?” Garth reached for her belly and tickled it, pulling her back into his arms to lay a growling kiss on her head.

  She giggled. “Nay, Da, I only have girl bairns.”

  Mallow studied her brother’s face, pushing back the blanket. “His hair’s almost red.”

  “For the moment…, I imagine it’ll change.” Amalie tucked a russet curl behind her ear.

  “What about William?” Garth proposed. “Our country needs another William Wallace.” A shadow crossed his face.

  “Da, Wallace was a martyr and there are too many Williams in the clan. What about Ewan?” Mallow let him grip her finger in his tiny hand. “Da, his fingernails are just like yers. Look!”

  Garth peered at his son’s hands. “So they are.” He grinned, pleased at his daughter’s delight. “Ewan Mackintosh is good. What about another name, Jessie, please?”

  “I like the Bible story about Joshua,” she balled her small fists, “when he tore down the walls round Jericho.”

  “He didn’t tear them down, Jessie, God did it for him. He tooted the horn.” Mallow corrected her with a matronly glance.

  “Ewan Joshua Mackintosh is good. What say ye, wife?” Garth reached over to rub her leg.

  Mallow watched them interact. Garth realized she’d remember little about his relationship with her mother. Mary kept to her bed frequently. His heart ached for a moment, but then he looked up into Amalie’s dark eyes.

  “I like it, but are you finished already? I thought you Scots liked to pile on the family names.” She smiled at Mallow, who glowed as she ducked her head for a kiss on her brother’s head, nuzzling the dark red fuzz on his head.

  “What’s yer father’s name?” Garth kept his hand on her, wanting his girls to see their love and affection for each other.

  “Elisha.” Her voice softened, her eyes misted.

  “Elisha it is then.”

  Jessica moved closer to the baby. “Ye wanna hold him?” Mallow watched the glee on her sister’s face.

  Jessica shook her head. “He could break.”

  Garth propped against the head of the bed beside Amalie. “Jessie, come back, sit on Da, and we’ll hold him together.”

  She climbed on Garth’s lap and Mallow passed the bundle to him. He laid the baby in Jessica’s eager arms, supporting his son’s head.

  Mallow scooted closer to Amalie who reached for and held the girl’s hand. “How’re ye feeling?” Mallow’s voice quietened.

  “A bit tired but very happy. Do you like your brother?” Amalie kept her eyes on Mallow’s.

  “He’s fine but did it…ye ken…hurt?” She grimaced.

  “It did, but it’s worth the pain.” She grinned. “In time, you’ll understand. I’ll see to it that you do. When the next one comes, you’ll be old enough to help.”

  Mallow blanched. “Ye mean help birth a baby?”

  “Aye, lass. It’s a good way to learn. I was in the room when all my brothers were born. The last one, Asa, I bathed afterwards.”

  “We’ll see.” Mallow looked doubtful.

  Chapter 20

  A tap at Amalie’s door brought Garth to his feet. He looked back at her, uncertainty clouding his face.

  “Open it.” She peeked down at her son, nuzzling her breast again and flipped a flannel over his face to cover herself.

  “Aye, this must be done.” He scrubbed his hands on his knee breeches and flung the door wide. “Quentin, come in.” He made a sweeping gesture inviting his cousin inside.

  “I’d heard yer boy was born.” Quentin was all smiles for Amalie. “May I see him?”

  She reached under the flannel and broke the baby’s suction. She deftly moved him from under the blanket. “Ewan Mackintosh, meet your cousin, Quentin Aitkenson, who saved your mam from the slaver.” She turned him to face the room and tucked him in the crook of her arm while straightening her gown.

  “May I hold him, Amalie?” He sat in the chair by the bed.

  Garth stepped between them and wrapped the flannel around his son, settling him in Quentin’s large hands.

  “He’s so small!” Quentin turned Ewan to look into his face. He squinted up at Garth. “He looks like ye with Amalie’s hair. How do ye feel about him?” His smile dissolved.

  “I held my wife through her labor, watched him born. I cut ’is cord, as Millie tied it. I’d not take all of Scotland and the Hebrides free, o’ the British, fer the experience. I don’t know when I’ve been happier. Only ye break my heart, cousin.” Garth’s eyes glistened with tears. His hands rested on his hips.

  Quentin glanced away. “I hate to disturb this occasion with our differences. But it must be said, I have to leave. I canna stay here and watch ye love the woman I love.”

  Amalie turned away in sadness, tears slipping down her cheeks.

  Garth nodded solemnly. “I understand, fer God is my witness, I can never let her go. I compromised her to force her to choose between us and left her with no choice at all. I’ve never loved anyone as deeply as Amalie, and never will.”

  Quentin stood, placing the baby on Amalie’s lap. She scooped the bundle into her arms and turned her face upward to him.

  He touched her cheek. “Thank ye fer yer friendship, Amalie. Truly, I realize I’d meant no more to ye than a friend. But ye mean the world to me.”

  Amalie swiped tears. “I think, in time, you’ll understand differently.” She took his hand and held it to her face. “Take care and let us know how you fare.”

  He nodded. “I will. If ever ye need….”

  “Her husband will provide all she needs.” Garth ended the visit, opened the door for his cousin, who stopped for another glimpse of mother and child.

  “Farewell, then.” A small lift of his hand and he was gone from their lives.

  ****

  Gerty and Millie arrived with pages in tow and supper. Millie headed straight for the bed and peered at the youngest Mackintosh. “Well, now. How’s he farin’?”

  “He’s fine, Millie. You want him, don’t you?” Amalie watched her friend with delight.

  “Aye, give him here, then.” She stretched her well-worn hands to cradle Ewan’s head and bottom. “Come ’ere, lad. Welcome to our family, lil’ one. We’re excited to get to watch ye grow.” She sat in the rocker and cuddled him close to her heart, looking at Amalie. “I’m thinkin’ there won’t be a wet nurse fer him, eh?”

  “I can handle feedin’ my bairn.” Amalie checked her husband’s broad grin.

  Milli
e reached for a cup of water she brought with her and dipped her finger to collect a drop. She placed three spots of water, in a triangle, on Ewan’s head, while mumbling a prayer, under her breath.

  Amalie looked on, biting her lower lip. I love you too much to object to your old ways, Millie, but I’m not sure how I feel about them.

  ****

  Gerty brought up a page to return supper dishes to the kitchen. Garth let them out and closed the door.

  He rubbed his hands together standing at the end of Amalie’s bed. “Well, it’s time I take him to the hall to meet ’is clan.”

  Amalie’s head moved slowly from side to side. “No.”

  He spread his arms. “What? It’s his family, woman.”

  “He’s not leavin’ this level, sir, for three months at least.” Amalie’s tone was adamant.

  “Three months? Are ye mad? He’ll be christened in a few days. Then he’ll go with me to the hall to sit judgment.”

  “No.”

  Garth pulled up the chair to the side of the bed and sat, giving his anger a moment to cool. “Tell me why I can’t have my son to follow our timeless traditions, like my da did with me and his da before him.”

  “He’ll not be exposed to dirty hands, snotty noses, and every manner of filth that’s carried into the hall of a day.” Amalie stroked her sleeping son’s face, snug in her arms.

  “How will his family recognize him if they can’t watch him grow?”

  “They may come into the gallery and you may present him from the top of the stairs. They may not touch him until he’s at least a year passed. No one will tend him but Gerty, the nurse, Millie, or me. As for the christening, you may invite your vicar, after he’s bathed himself and wearin’ a clean robe, to the stairs and he might hold him long enough to sprinkle clean water on him.”

  Garth glared.

  Amalie set her chin and sighed.

  “I don’t ken yer ways, woman.”

  “I’ll not have him murdered by well meanin’ folks or timeless traditions. He’ll stay healthy and safe, as long as it’s in my power.”