Frederick's Queen: The Clan Graham Series

by Suzan Tisdale

  Sometime later, she could feel the warmth from the sun on her face. No matter how hard she tried, she still could not open her eyes, so she did the only thing she could and embraced the warmth it offered and fell back into darkness.

  Time passed, but how much, she had no idea. She had only the very vague sense of it passing. The pain was gone and she was left with an overwhelming sense of cold and emptiness. The only thing she was certain what that she was abed and quite ill. Worry over her babe filled her heart with dread. Was he well? What had happened? Desperately, she wanted to lift her hands and place them on her stomach, to feel for her child, to be certain she still carried him. Had there been an accident of some sort? Or had she simply taken ill? Sleep, sleep fer a time and it will all come to ye.

  SUNSHINE BEAMED INTO Aggie’s room through the tall windows. When she managed to finally open her eyes, she could see little bits of dust dancing in the light. ’Twas nice to see sunshine after all the days of rain she thought before falling back into the abyss.

  When next she woke, if one could call her current state wakefulness, the sun was gone. The candles next to her bed were lit and Elsbeth was dabbing a wet cloth against her cheeks. The coolness of the cloth and Elsbeth’s fingertips felt good against her skin.

  And so it went for hours on end, drifting in and out of awareness. Her pains were gone now, nothing more than a vague memory, blended in with other cloudy bits and pieces that she could not fit together just yet.

  AGGIE MANAGED TO open her eyes and glance at her surroundings, her mind fuzzy, her memories unclear. She was on her back, in her bed, and the sun had once again returned. For the life of her, she could not remember how she came to be in the bed and feeling so dreadfully sore.

  Slowly, she lifted her hand and laid it against her stomach. Flat, cold, and empty. That was when the bits and pieces of broken memories came crashing in all around her. She could remember growing quite ill quite rapidly, then doubling over in pain, vomiting, crying out for mercy, crying out for Frederick.

  I’ve lost the babe.

  The thought tore at her heart, made it feel just as empty and cold as her stomach. How would she tell Frederick? Would he hold it against her? Would he love her less? Tears of remorse and sorrow fell from her closed eyes and a sob escaped, dislodging the lump that had formed in her throat. I’ve lost the babe.

  More tears followed the first, leaving trails down the sides of her face and dampening her neck and pillow. Closing her eyes again, her heart breaking, the sorrow over their loss devouring her heart one painful beat at a time. She wanted nothing more than to jump from the bed and hurl herself out the window, but she hadn’t the energy to do that. Quietly, she lay there crying, wishing she could instead scream and curse and throw something.

  “I be so sorry,” she whispered. Just one more message to send on the winds to Frederick.

  She could feel the weight of someone sitting on the bed beside her. Large, warm hands took hers in his. John, she thought.

  “I be so sorry,” she sobbed.

  “Fer what?” a deep voice asked from very near her face. That wasn’t John’s voice. Nay, she thought, I must still be ill, me mind confused. Daring herself, she opened her eyes.

  Were the circumstances different, had she not been engulfed in sorrow and guilt, and so horribly weak and sore, she would very much have liked to have thrown herself into Frederick’s arms. But she couldn’t, she was too ashamed, her heart too filled with sorrow over losing their babe.

  “God’s teeth, Aggie,” Frederick said as he squeezed her hands. He sounded quite relieved to see her, though she couldn’t gather why. She had lost their babe, had let him down. “I thought fer certain we had lost ye.”

  He leaned over and kissed her cheek. Aggie didn’t feel she deserved his kisses or kindness. Her heart was a jumbled mess of feelings. One part of her was overjoyed that he was here, the other part was mourning the loss of their child.

  Frederick climbed into the bed, careful not to jostle her about too much. “Aggie, please, open yer eyes. Do no’ leave me again. I canna live without ye.”

  It angered her that he was being so kind, so honorable, when all she wanted to do was scream and cry and leap to her death or plunge a dagger into her heart. “How can ye be so kind?” she bit out. “I lost our babe.”

  Wracked with sobs, the heartache was profound and angry.

  “Wheest, lass,” Frederick whispered into her ear as he held her close. “The babe be fine.”

  She choked back a sob, uncertain if he was merely trying to comfort her by lying or if he told the truth. “What?”

  “Our babe be fine, Aggie. Tiny and wee, just like her mum, but she be verra fine. She has me loud voice and me impatient temperament. I apologize to ye fer that now.”

  Relief washed over her as she fought to sit and work out what he had just told her. “What?” she asked again as she struggled to be free of his big, strong arms.

  Frederick let her go and sat upright. When Aggie was able to look him full on, he looked awful. He hadn’t shaved in days, dark circles sat under his hazel eyes, and his hair was all a mess. “How long have ye been here? What happened? Where is our babe? Are ye sure it’s a girl?” Her questions tumbled out so quickly that they all ran together.

  Frederick smiled down at her, took her face in his hands and kissed her lips. “Wheest, ye need to rest. We can answer yer questions later.”

  Aggie shook her head violently. “Nay, I want to see our babe,” she pleaded through the tears of joy and relief. She would not rest, would not sleep, until she held her babe in her arms.

  FREDERICK COULD NOT begin to describe the relief he felt when Aggie woke. For days, he had sat by her bed watching as she writhed in agony, vomited countless times, and nearly died. When he had first learned that she was carrying his child, the joy was overwhelming. All the while they rode to the keep, he kept thinking about his wife and their babe. I’m goin’ to be a father, he thought over and over again.

  Rolph had repeated reassured him that Aggie was fine. Hale, hearty, and eating anything she could get her hands on. For two solid days, all he could think of was getting to her, to tell her how he much he had missed her and how happy she had made him.

  But when they finally arrived at the keep late in the night, it was in utter turmoil. John was screaming at the top of his lungs, demanding they find whoever had done this to his daughter-in-law. It took only a few moments for Frederick to ascertain that his wife was not well.

  He had bounded up the stairs, her screams of agony leading him to her. He burst in the room to find it filled with women and Aggie in her bed, screaming and thrashing about. The room reeked of vomit and sweat and worry.

  Elsbeth looked up at him from the opposite side of the bed. She was trying to hold Aggie down but Aggie was fighting against her.

  “Thank God yer here!” Elsbeth said. “Help me to hold her down, on her side.”

  He didn’t wait for an explanation.

  Hours passed by slowly, filled with Aggie vomiting, crying out like a wounded animal, incoherent and wild. She could not hear Frederick begging her to not fight against him, to listen to Elsbeth and the midwife and healer. His words fell on ears that could not hear.

  Together, the midwife and Elsbeth pulled his babe from Aggie, using towels and forceps and prayer. Frederick never left her side, not even to hold his wee daughter. Later, when she was stronger, he would tell her the whole tale. But for now, he would simply rejoice in the fact that both his wife and his daughter were well.

  He stepped away from the bed, went to the cradle by the fire and with great care, he lifted his wee daughter into his arms. Unable to hold back his tears of relief and joy, he laid his daughter into his wife’s arms for the first time.

  “Aggie Mackintosh, I’d like ye to meet yer daughter.”

  AGGIE HELD HER daughter in trembling hands, lifting the tiny bundle and placing a kiss on her cheek. Inhaling deeply, she breathed in the scent of newly born life and
clean soap. For a moment, she thought her heart might burst.

  Cradling her daughter in her arm, she pulled back the little cap to inspect her. “She looks just like ye,” she exclaimed happily. The babe, fast asleep with one little fist resting against her face, had lots of thick, dark red hair.

  “I apologize to ye fer that as well,” Frederick said as he climbed back onto the bed. “Ye’ll find that with red hair comes a temperament that is likely no’ to be tamed fer some time.”

  Aggie didn’t care. Her baby was alive, seemingly healthy, and quite beautiful. “She’s beautiful,” Aggie whispered.

  “Just like her mum,” Frederick said as he gently smoothed down his daughter’s red hair.

  “When?” Aggie finally asked, as she smiled down at her babe. “How?”

  Frederick remained quiet, his eyes fixed solely on his daughter.

  “I do no’ remember much,” Aggie said. “I remember getting ill, and then the pains. I think I threw up a few times, but the rest? I do no’ remember.”

  Frederick took in a deep breath. “’Twas five days ago, Aggie. I swear, I’ll tell ye all about it when yer feelin’ a wee more strong.”

  “Five days?” Aggie exclaimed as she turned wide eyed to her husband. “How has she been fed? Who has taken care of her?”

  “One of our women here has been nursing’ her. She has a babe of her own, just a year old. She volunteered to help until ye could do it yerself.”

  Aggie thought it remarkable that someone would do such a thing for her. She made a mental note to thank the woman as soon as she could. But she knew there would be no words, no gift she could give in return for what the woman had done to help her babe.

  “What have ye named her?” Aggie asked, turning her attention back to the sleeping babe.

  Frederick shook his head. “I refused to name her without ye.”

  Aggie’s heart continued to expand inside her chest. “What was yer mother’s name?”

  Frederick looked up from his babe and into Aggie’s eyes. “Ada.”

  Aggie smiled as she placed a tender kiss on his lips. “Well then, Frederick Mackintosh, meet yer daughter, Ada.”

  Fifty-Two

  AGGIE WAS NOT happy to learn that she could not nurse her daughter. Too much time had passed between Ada’s birth and Aggie finally waking from the poison induced, long sleep. Her milk had not come in. Rebeca, the kind woman who had been nursing Ada, promised her that she’d continue to do so for as long as necessary.

  That evening, Aggie sat in her bed, feeling better after a long bath and time with her daughter. She still felt a bit out of sorts, but that was to be expected considering all that she had gone through.

  John, Elsbeth, Ian, and Rose all sat around the bed in chairs. Frederick lay in the bed beside her. With her promise that she would not take ill again, he too had finally bathed, eaten, and donned fresh clothing. Ailrig, was below stairs with one of his many uncles. Elsbeth did not think the boy needed to be present when they recounted the story to Aggie.

  “Ailrig had come to fetch me when ye first took ill,” Elsbeth told her as she held Ada in her arms. “I’ve never seen a lad more terrified. Ye were doubled over in pain and retchin’ somethin’ fierce when I got here. I sent fer the midwife and the healer immediately.”

  Elsbeth fell quiet as she rocked Ada in her arms. “Ye scared the life right out of me, Aggie. I knew ’twas not normal fer ye to be so sick and in so much pain and I felt so verra lost.”

  John, who was sitting next to Elsbeth, reached out and caressed his granddaughter’s cheek. “As soon as the healer stepped into the room, she knew somethin’ terrible had happened. There was vomit everywhere. ’Twas an odd color, it was.” He shuddered at the memory of seeing his daughter-in-law in so much pain and unable to stop retching. “’Twas an odd, purplish color, ye ken. That’s when she knew ye’d been poisoned.”

  Elsbeth looked up from the babe and at Aggie. “I can never remember a time me husband was so angry or distraught.”

  Frederick gave Aggie’s hand a gentle squeeze. “Are ye certain yer well enough to hear this?” he asked softly.

  “Aye, I am.”

  Elsbeth went on to recount the rest of the story. “Ye were like that fer hours, Aggie. I’ve never seen a person in so much pain before. It took the healer a while to realize that ye’d also been given somethin’ to bring on yer pains.”

  “Tansy.” Aggie murmured. ’Twas the herb women oft used to rid themselves of unwanted babes. She shuddered at the thought. Had she been given the herb months ago, her babe would not have lived.

  “Aye,” Elsbeth said. “That, blended with the poison made ye verra ill.”

  Frederick wrapped an arm around Aggie and pulled her close. He kissed the top of her head and whispered, “I love ye.”

  John took the babe from Elsbeth’s arms. “Give me that wee, bonny granddaughter of mine,” he said with a smile. The babe looked unreal, like a wee doll, cradled in the crook of John’s arm. “And yer grandda was fit to be tied,” he said to the babe. “Ready to kill, I was.”

  Frederick smiled across the bed at his father. “We arrived late in the night,” Frederick said.

  “His feet never touched the ground after learnin’ he was going to be a father,” Ian offered with a smile. “Ye’d have thought he was the first man ever to be a da.”

  Frederick had only been allowed a short time to revel in the good news. “When we arrived, the keep was in utter chaos. John was barkin’ one order after another. Tearin’ the place apart to find out who had done such a thing.”

  John glanced up at his son. “And I would have torn it apart, brick by brick.”

  From the serious and stern expression on John’s face, Aggie had no doubt that he would have done just that.

  “I never left yer side after that, Aggie,” Frederick told her. “I held on to ye the entire time. Even when the midwife and Elsbeth pulled Ada from yer body, I didna let ye go.”

  Aggie rested her head against his shoulder.

  “And ye’ll be glad to ken that no’ once did I faint, even after all the blood and everythin’ that happens with child birth. Though next time, I promise ye’ll no’ have to go through it like ye did.”

  Aggie cast a glance at Elsbeth. That question, could she have more bairns, had been tugging at the back of her mind. Elsbeth smiled and gave a slight nod that said aye, ye can.

  “’Twas Ailrig that first spotted Clair. The lad had gone out of doors with our brothers Comnell and Seamus. They didna ken who they were lookin’ fer at the time. Just someone who appeared suspicious I reckon,” Ian explained. “Ailrig caught sight of her headin’ back into the keep from the courtyard. He and the lads followed her, keepin’ a close watch. When Ailrig was sure ’twas Clair, he went in search of John.”

  “By this time, ye had given birth,” Elsbeth recounted. “Mornin’ was fast approachin’. Clair was goin’ on about her business as if she’d done nothin’ wrong.”

  “I dunna understand how she was here and no one knew,” Aggie said with a furrowed brow.

  Elsbeth answered that. “She said she was Dona McFee. No one questioned her. She kept to herself, worked hard and no one paid her any mind. They thought she was just another McLaren.”

  Aggie shook her head in disbelief. “But fer six months?”

  John and Elsbeth looked just as concerned over the thought as Aggie felt. “I can assure ye, lass,” John said. “Somethin’ like this will never happen again. I give ye my word.”

  Aggie could not very well blame anyone here for what Clair had done. “Do no’ worry it, John. I blame no one but Clair fer her misdeeds.”

  They sat in quiet contemplation for a few moments before Frederick spoke. “Aggie, there be so much to tell ye. Mayhap ye should rest now.”

  “Nay,” Aggie said with a firm tone and set jaw. “I will no’ be able to rest until I hear all of it.”

  Frederick gave a nod to his father to continue on with the story. John started to hand A
da back to Elsbeth when Ian stopped him. “Nay,” he said with a smile. “It be me turn to hold me niece.”

  John handed the little bundle over then sat back in his chair. “We were able to find Clair. We took her to me study to question her, though ’twas difficult no’ to strangle her with me bare hands.”

  “Aggie,” Elsbeth said, speaking in soft tones. “I fear Clair was no’ of sound mind. Yer da filled her mind with all sorts of lies and half-truths.”

  John grunted at Elsbeth’s remark. “She still be responsible fer her own actions, Elsbeth.”

  “I ken that, John. But I fear she would no’ have been so mad with greed were it no’ fer her father.”

  John cast his wife a look that questioned her soundness of mind before turning back to Aggie. “Part of what Elsbeth says is true. Mermadak filled Clair’s head with all manner of lies and half-truths.” He stopped short as he took the time to choose his words carefully. “Aggie, he was Clair’s father. He had convinced her that ye were no’ the rightful heir.”

  Aggie’s brow drew into a line of confusion. “Why would he do such a thing?”

  John took a deep breath before answering with a question. “How much do ye ken about yer grandda, Hugh McLaren?”

  Aggie shrugged her shoulders. “No’ much. He was me mum’s da and I only have vague memories of him from me childhood. He died when I was verra young.”

  “Have ye ever seen his will?” John asked.

  “Nay, I have no’.”

  John ran a hand through his hair. “It seems as though yer da lied about the true contents of Hugh McLaren’s will. He left everythin’ to yer mum, and in turn, it was to pass on to ye. Ye could inherit and ye could be chief. But apparently, yer father was of a mind that women made terrible leaders. So he lied and said ye needed a husband to inherit.”

  Knowing her father as she did, and his proclivity to believe women were put on this earth to serve men, this news did not surprise her in the least. She cast a glance at her husband who looked to be very lost in his own thoughts. “Do no’ worry it, husband. I have no desire to be anyone’s chief. That title belongs to you.”