Perhaps not the best way to fall asleep with her face mushed into her husband’s chest. But she’d slept alone for many a night and this was as close to perfect as anyone could ever dream.
What seemed just moments later, there was loud banging on the door.
Gisela sat straight up and blinked into the darkness.
“Who is it?”
“Ye must come at once, Lady Gisela,” a maid said from the other side of the door.
Kieran stirred but didn’t wake. She brushed a stray lock from his face and, with a sigh, slipped off of the bed and over to the door.
“Coming,” she called out, but was sure whoever it was had hurried away.
The scuffling of feet and frantic whispers continued as everyone was filled with expectation and nerves.
Childbirth was always this way. As much as new life was anticipated, there was always the underlying fear of something going wrong.
This was the laird’s wife, giving birth to the next generation in a family that had gone through many tribulations caused by a death. Gisela burst into the room and everyone turned to look. She ignored them, of course, not caring at the moment for more than following the instructions Elspeth had begged her and Ceilidh to follow.
“That water, has it been boiled?” Gisela asked a maid who walked in with two buckets.
“Pour it into the cauldron there on the fire. Go to the kitchen and boil more and then bring it along with two additional buckets.” She went to a small cabinet and pulled out stack of linens that she had overseen washed and boiled in a clean basin. Then she went to the bed where Elspeth was, half-sitting up, her face wet with perspiration.
“Where’s Ceilidh?” she asked.
Elspeth attempted to smile, but her beautiful face twisted as a labor pain struck. “Gone to fetch Merida.”
Gisela took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “I will ensure everyone washes their hands properly. Now, let us get some clean linens under ye.”
The midwife eyed them with suspicion, but followed instructions. She had been thoroughly instructed by Elspeth at least several times and yet there were no clean linens spread on the bed yet.
Merida walked in the room. She was regal, posture straight, gaze sharp. She took one look at the midwife and pointed to a chair. “Ye will not be involved in this. I am a trained healer and midwife. The only reason ye are here is because the laird asked it.”
The woman who seemed more relieved than angry, did as she was told.
After the bed was stripped and all the bedding replaced with the clean linens, Elspeth settled in for what could possibly be hours of labor. Her back was propped up with pillows and Ceilidh was instructed to sit behind her. Whenever Elspeth needed it, her back was rubbed and all three women soothed and encouraged her.
There was a knock at the door and Malcolm called out, “How is she?”
When Merida motioned to Gisela, she rushed to the doorway. Cracking it just a bit, she looked at the laird’s pale, drawn face. He truly loved Elspeth, it was obvious.
“She is doing well. It won’t be long now.”
“Are ye sure?” he asked. For a moment, it looked as if he were going to push his way in.
“I am,” Gisela said, smiling at him. “Elspeth is strong.”
It was a short labor. At least it seemed to be. Gisela was sure Elspeth wouldn’t agree. Perhaps two hours later, the loud wails replaced Elspeth’s moans as she’d pushed hard and then harder to deliver the child.
A boy. And a hardy one by the loud cries of protest at being thrust into a strange new world.
Merida called out instructions. She cut the cord that connected the babe to its mother. Gisela cleaned the child, ensuring he was without any type of injury that would bring worry. Ceilidh assisted in the continued removal of the bloody linens after the final discharge.
The swaddled bairn was placed in Elspeth’s arms and she cried in joy. Then, after everything was cleaned up, per her instructions, Merida went to the door and allowed Malcolm in.
His gaze pinned Elspeth’s face, making sure she was well and not hiding something sinister that perhaps was happening to her body which was hidden under the fresh cover that had been spread over her.
Only after he was assured she was well, did he look to the pink-faced, swaddled child.
“A boy,” Elspeth said, a tear trailing down her face.
One by one, the women slipped out, allowing the family some privacy. Merida stopped just outside the door and hugged her husband who’d been waiting with Malcolm. “A boy,” she said, wiping an errant tear.
Gisela noted that Ruari and Ewan were also there. They’d been waiting with Malcolm. Her husband, however, was noticeably absent.
“I will return momentarily,” she said, walking to the bedchamber where she planned to dress and prepare for the day. The sun was up and it would be time to start the day soon. She was much too excited to go back to sleep.
A new life had arrived, and she’d taken part in it. Her lips curved into a wide grin. She had seen a new life brought forth and it had been…beautiful.
*
Kieran forced one foot in front of the other. Each step closer to his brother’s chamber was harder to take than the last. On leaden feet, he managed to get just outside the doorway. The corridor was empty and through the cracked door, he heard not one sound.
Looking over his shoulder, to the right and left, he was assured no one was about.
Despite the heaviness of his legs, Kieran managed to not make a sound as he made his way across the room to a bassinette where the child lay. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but definitely not what he saw.
His heart immediately was filled with joy at the sight of the beautiful babe. A Ross through and through he was. With a slight scowl marring his tiny brow and a half-smile on his lips, he resembled Malcolm. Yes, he would be a true Ross, strong and proud.
In the bed, Elspeth slept soundly, exhausted from the delivery. The child was of a good size, which had probably cost the mother. No matter how long he lived, he would never stop marveling at how such delicate creatures could be so strong when giving life.
He slipped his hands gently under the child and lifted him up. He barely weighed a thing. The babe made a soft sound like that of a wee beast and Kieran smiled.
“His name is Robert Malcolm,” Elspeth said softly.
Kieran froze. “I didn’t mean to wake ye.”
“I wake every time he makes the slightest sound,” she said with a gentle smile and looked at the child. “Meet yer uncle, Kieran. He will teach ye the ways of a bow and arrow.”
Every word she’d spoken seeped into Kieran, flowing through him like a balm. It was as if by holding the child and learning his name, the emotions that he’d held in since his father’s death broke free.
At first, it was a single tear. It was followed by another and, finally, he could not hold back.
He placed the baby back into the bassinette and went to the bed. “Thank ye.” A tear splatted onto the bed and Elspeth beamed up at him. “Ye are a good son, Kieran Ross. Just like I hope wee Robert will be to Malcolm.”
Unable to keep from it, he nodded silently and slipped out to the balcony of his brother’s bedchamber.
Kieran wept, allowing the bitterness to wash away from him. He had been sure the babe would not live or that Elspeth herself would perish. And now, along with the relief of everything going well, he realized that this child was the beginning of a new chapter in all of their lives.
One that he would do his best to ensure was as perfect as life would allow.
When he left the bedchamber, it was as if a boulder had been lifted from his shoulders. He went down the stairwell without encumberment, the injuries that had plagued him with pains in the mornings were dormant.
In the great room, people had gathered and everyone talked excitedly about the newborn wee one. Kieran went to the high board and lowered to the empty seat on Malcolm’s left side.
Uncle Gregor al
ways sat at Malcolm’s right as he had before with their father.
“Did ye see him?” his uncle asked, his face stoic. Obviously, everyone was aware he had not been in the corridor with the others. Fear had kept him away and now he hated to have allowed it so much control over him.
“I did, aye. I was just there.” Kieran met Malcolm’s surprised look. “He is perfect. He will carry our father’s name well.”
His brother’s eyes welled and both looked away, clearing their throats. His uncle’s lips curved into a knowing smile. “Aye, he will. My brother would be extremely proud.”
Gisela came up and he stood and pulled out a chair for her to sit. She kissed his jaw, her face bright with excitement. “This has been the most amazing day already,” his wife declared, looking over to Malcolm. “I cannot wait to have a bairn of my own.”
When Kieran choked and coughed, his brother and uncle laughed.
“Ye will make a wonderful mother to my brother’s children,” Malcolm said and looked to him. “My brother will be a good father as well.”
Tristan and Merida entered. It was strange as they rarely joined the family for first meal. But it was a special day after all.
As per usual, Merida avoided meeting Kieran’s gaze when nearing the table. She would sit on the other side of Uncle Gregor.
Next to him, Gisela stiffened. Was she afraid he’d do something to hurt Merida’s feelings?
Kieran stood and pulled Merida’s chair back.
At first, Merida froze and then she looked over her shoulder to Tristan who watched Kieran with a protective expression.
“Please sit,” Kieran said.
“Thank ye?” Her comment sounded more like a question.
He nodded. “No need to thank me.”
When he lowered next to Gisela, she squeezed his hand. “Ye are the most wonderful husband,” she gushed, and a slow-moving warmth enveloped him.
It was, indeed, an amazing day as his wife had proclaimed.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
The clip-clop of the horses’ hooves over the cobblestones cheerfully announced they’d arrived at Kildonan. Ceilidh leaned to look out the carriage window and found that it looked pretty much the same as the last time she was there.
It was interesting that she’d expected more, not exactly sure what, but more of a festive appearance. It was her wedding day after all and Elspeth had spent countless hours with the village women instructing them on what was to be done for this day.
“Stop looking out,” Elspeth demanded. She sat across from Ceilidh, holding her now two-month-old child. Her friend had not wasted time lingering in bed after the birth of wee Robert. Instead, she’d gotten out of bed within days and insisted on returning to most of her duties.
Although she spent most of her day in the chambers caring for the child, they still on occasion had gone for walks in the field and spent time in the garden.
The weather was cooler and although Ceilidh had planned a late summer wedding, it was now firmly autumn.
The burnished coppery leaves waving in the cooler air were, indeed, lovely and she had to admit they added a colorful flair to the days.
The marriage would take place in a large stable structure that the laird had ordered to be built. The village would be able to use it for gatherings during the colder seasons, so it was a welcome addition.
Once again, she peered out the window. This time, she was greeted with a view of streamers hanging from trees and windows, gaily flapping in the wind.
Her wedding day had finally arrived and by the evening, she would be Ian McElroy’s wife.
Upon entering the building that afternoon, Ceilidh could barely contain her emotions. Ian, dressed in a Ross plaid, stood proudly at the front of the room, his eyes tracking her every step.
Next to him stood Kieran Ross, the childhood friends comfortable standing next to each other. Her father kept his gaze forward as he escorted her down the center of the room. But by the constant clearing of his throat, she knew he was touched by the occasion.
Her mother looked lovely in a simple gown that had been made just for her by Elspeth’s seamstress.
As she walked past, her best friend in the world, Elspeth, met her gaze with happy, tear-filled eyes.
Beside Elspeth was Malcolm and next to the laird, Elspeth’s father. The gruff blacksmith, along with Elspeth’s two brothers and Elspeth’s mother, filled the row of benches.
Her heart thundered as they finally reached the front of the room and her father stepped away. Ceilidh worried she’d not be able to hear a word.
The vows floated over the room as they spoke, eyes only for each other and hands joined, tied with a sash. If only she could freeze time and go through each moment again and again.
Was the sniffle her mother?
The murmur from behind her, was it a word of encouragement?
Who exactly cleared their throat and why?
Ian was so perfect, tall, broad-shouldered, standing before her, offering every bit of himself to her. His voice never wavered, remaining strong throughout each vow, while hers shook and, more than once, she stumbled over the words.
Finally it was done, the vicar pronouncing them joined for life and all breath left her. Ceilidh had never been so happy, so filled with joy. As they walked back down the center of the room, this time side-by-side, she swore her feet never once touched the ground.
“Ye are beautiful,” Ian murmured into her ear. “My most beautiful wife.”
Her heart, it was too full and felt as if it were about to burst. Ceilidh couldn’t stop smiling as she looked from one familiar face to another.
The feasting and celebrating would continue into the night and then she and Ian would be joined physically. It wouldn’t be their first time, as they’d been sharing the same chamber for months, but it would be different. She knew it in her bones.
Tonight would be a night they’d both cherish for the remainder of their days.
*
Kieran took Gisela’s elbow and guided her to the back of the room where people were gathered to wait for long tables to be assembled and the chairs arranged around them. The villagers moved with precision, which told him they’d already practiced and knew where everything would go.
Although Gisela seemed touched by Ceilidh and Ian’s ceremony, she was unusually quiet. He nudged her with his arm. “Is something wrong?”
She shook her head but then looked up to him, her gaze seeming to seek an answer to an unspoken question.
“Can we step outside for just a bit. I need fresh air.”
“Very well,” he replied and they walked out and were greeted by cold air. Kieran pulled her close and rubbed her arm. “Why are ye so quiet?”
Children rushed out of a building and raced toward the wedding area, no doubt they’d been kept away until after the vows were said. Now, their excited high-pitched voices were allowed free rein.
Gisela followed the children’s progress and then once again met his gaze. “How many children would ye like for us to have?”
The question caught him by surprise. They had many personal conversations, but it was only at night in the privacy of their chamber.
“I do not know. Five perhaps.”
“Five?” Her brow crinkled. “Why five?”
So it was not the reply she’d expected. Was there a correct one? “Four then. Yes, I’d like to have four.”
“Four.” She seemed to mull his reply. “I suppose four is good.”
“What about ye? Have ye a number in mind?” He wondered if Elspeth giving birth, which was followed by Tristan and Merida announcing they would be parents by late winter, had made Gisela think more about children.
“I think four is good,” she finally replied.
His lovely wife took his hand and brought it up to her lips. “Ye have been so different lately. Although, for the most part, ye have softened, it is almost as if ye’re withdrawn. I cannot explain it,” she said. “Are ye unhappy Kieran?”
“No,” he replied immediately. “If anything, I am happier than I have been in a very long time. With ye, I find peace and wellbeing.”
“Ye had a strong purpose for each day. To go and find him, avenge yer father. But now, do ye feel the same?”
He’d not considered it but, yes, he had been restless. He missed the days of traveling, of going to the northern post or in search of finding the one responsible for killing his father. “I suppose I am a bit restless.”
“Ye should find what it is that ye need to do now.” She smiled up at him and all was well with his world.
“Gisela, ye are my reason for being. I suppose I should consider things I prefer. Perhaps providing escort for Malcolm and Elspeth when they go north to visit my mother.”
When his wife did not protest, Kieran became bolder. “I could go to the northern post for a few weeks to ensure all is well there.”
“As long as ye do not stay over long, because I would miss ye terribly. But ye cannot be away early spring.”
“Early spring. Aye that would be perfect because when I go north, I will be forced to remain through the winter.” There was excitement in his voice. He tried to temper it. But in truth, the idea of resuming the life he’d had, before his father’s death, motivated him.
How was it that he’d been so fortunate to have such an understanding wife? “What about ye?” he asked. “Do ye wish to go back to spend time with yer mother while I am away?”
“Nay. But I will request ye bring her back upon yer return. She would wish to be here when our first child is born.”
He nodded understanding that it was a special time for women.
Then the air stilled. Realization dawned and his breath caught. For a moment, it was as if the word spun and he was the only thing still. He met Gisela’s beaming face and his mouth fell open.
“Ye’re with child?” Each word came out stilted. “How long?”
“I have known for a few weeks. But I have been waiting to assure all was well. Ye have a hard time with loss.”
“I am not a child to be coddled.” Kieran scowled, and then took her arm. “Ye should not be out here in the cold. I will not leave yer side and spend the winter away. What are ye thinking woman?”
A Hellish Highlander (Clan Ross Book 3) Page 20