The Highland Hero (Lairds of Dunkeld Series) (A Medieval Scottish Romance Story)
Page 20
Chrissie stared at him, grinning. They both laughed, and then tensed, afraid they had woken someone in the room. Duncan stirred in his sleep, then sighed and leaned back. Chrissie and Blaine tiptoed out of the turret room.
Back in bed together in their own chambers, they snuggled close. Chrissie sighed, feeling sleepy, contented, and happier than she could remember.
“I was so frightened,” Blaine confessed as he stroked her hand.
“Oh?” Chrissie said sleepily, his voice only half-reaching through her slumbering state.
“I think that...” Blaine swallowed hard. “I think we should not do this again.”
A small silence grew as Chrissie struggled to figure out what he meant.
“Do what?”
“Have another babe,” Blaine said slowly. “I don't think I could go through that again.”
Chrissie felt the laughter build up inside her. It bubbled from her lips, a wave of laughter so merry that she clasped her hand to her lips, afraid it would wake Conn who slumbered in his bed by the wall.
“Blaine,” she said, hiccupping as the laughter subsided slowly.
“What?” He asked, helplessly, his face stretched in a slightly bemused grin.
“I think we'll have to see what happens. But I do love how worried you were about me.” He reached up and gently touched his cheek.
“Of course I was,” he said, affronted. He kissed her hair and Chrissie kissed his lips and felt herself snatched into delicious drowsiness again.
I do not, she thought as she closed her eyes, still smiling, recall ever being quite so contented.
They slept.
The next morning, Chrissie went in to see Alina. She was deathly pale, but her face was suffused with a lightness that touched Chrissie's heart. She looked so, so happy.
“So?” Alina asked, brow raised. “Your surprise came into the world?”
Chrissie laughed, feeling the lightness of relief and joy flow through her. “Yes. Thank you, Alina. Thank you so much for knowing, long before I did.”
Alina smiled. “I am so glad for you. You are so happy.”
“I am!” Chrissie said, feeling as if she glowed with happiness. “Isn't it wonderful?”
“Well,” Alina said, smiling sourly. “I feel as if all the denizens of Hell have spent two weeks cutting me in half. My head hurts and I'm exhausted. But, yes, it's wonderful.”
Chrissie laughed, collapsing onto the bed beside her. It was a fair description, she thought with a smile. It was exactly how she felt. However, yes, it was wonderful.
“I have something for you,” Alina said gently. “I think you'll find it useful.”
She leaned over, reaching for something that lay next to the bedside table and Chrissie tensed, worried that she would hurt herself trying to reach it. She located it and lay back on the pillows, exhausted even by that small effort.
“I made it while we were both confined,” Alina said, holding out the gift. It was white linen, sewn with white silk thread and, here and there, the trace of white ribbon and, at the top hem, a single pearl.
Chrissie breathed out in wonder. It was a christening robe. Beautiful, worked to exquisite detail in French embroidery stitches, decorated with white ribbon and a single pearl at the throat of the gown.
“Oh, Alina!” she breathed, feeling tears flood her eyes, “it's beautiful! The old christening robe was...”
“Was lost in a fire. I know,” Alina smiled. Chrissie had been christened in the Connolly robe, which had been burned when part of the turret caught fire, many years before. Chrissie, blinking to hold back her tears, swallowed hard. Trust Alina to think of it.
“It's perfect,” she sniffed, imagining her son wearing the beautiful robe already.
“He needs a good one, and a good name,” Alina said quietly. “There's a great deal ahead of that young man.”
Chrissie swallowed. She was half-tempted to ask Alina more, but on the other hand was not sure she truly wished to know. It would all unfold as it was meant to, she knew, and perhaps it would be better if she did not know of her son's destiny. She would not wish to influence it.
“I have decided to call him Conn Francis,” Chrissie said softly.
Alina smiled. “Your mother would have been so proud.”
Chrissie felt her throat tighten on tears then, and squeezed Alina's hand.
“As would yours be now.”
Alina blinked rapidly. “I hope so. I do.” The two of them sat in the quiet of the room, the pale sunlight of winter marking a long path of light before them on the floor. They were happy.
EPILOGUE
EPILOGUE
“Come, Joanna,” Amabel's voice filled the solar, where summer sunlight, gold and bright, poured onto the flagstones like yolk or the juice of lemons, warm and rich and soothing.
Chrissie, leaning back wearily on the settee, smiled to hear her voice.
“Come,” Amabel repeated. “See your cousin Leona.”
Chrissie smiled. Alina had chosen a French name for her baby, which would likely prove appropriate for her as she grew: she already resembled Alina, who looked like her French father, the count of Annecy.
Now, Chrissie felt her heart glow with tenderness as she watched Joanna, now six years old and growing fast, bend over the crib and stare down at Leona. It was three months since the birth, but Joanna had not yet become accustomed to the new life in the household. Brodgar, who was ten months old now and walking about uncertainly, seemed more than happy with the increase in activity in the nursery and cooed with contentment whenever the babes were mentioned.
Blaine had just come back from a ride around the holdings and he sat, flushed and tired, on a seat by the fireplace, smiling at Chrissie. Together they watched the children looking at each other.
“Will she be as tall as me?” Joanna lisped. They all laughed.
“Probably,” Alina grimaced, and Amabel smiled at her daughter.
“You and Leona will be good friends, I think.”
Joanna blinked at her mother, seeming unsure about this, and Chrissie smiled. If her own experience was anything to go by, the four children raised together would be like brothers and sisters by the time they were all a few years older. She was so glad her son would have a chance to be raised alongside so many potential good friends.
She felt Blaine's eyes on her and turned towards him. He was smiling at her, face flushed, and she felt her own heart start to thud in her chest.
“I was thinking,” he whispered as she stood to go to him, Alina and Amabel busy with their daughters, not watching them, “if we could maybe go out into the countryside, for a short walk, or...”
Chrissie smiled at him, feeling her own heart dance with rising longing. “We could manage that,” she said, feeling her cheeks start to glow. “I would like to be out in some sunshine.”
“Good,” he agreed, squeezing her hand. She grinned back at him.
Quietly they left, leaving Alina and Amabel with the children, their happy laughter filling the warm, sunlit room.
Up in their bedchamber, their clothing was quickly discarded. It seemed as if the idea of a walk was somewhat secondary to both of them, their need for each other superseding even the want for some fresh air.
As they lay together afterward, a gentle breeze wafting over their damp skin from the window, Blaine kissed Chrissie's hair. “Chrissie?”
“Mm?” Chrissie asked, snuggling closer to him. She loved the way she felt in his arms, so warm and cared-for.
“I was talking to Duncan, and...”
“Mm?” Chrissie asked.
“He was wondering if we should make some kind of arrangement between us and them. I mean...”
“You mean, about Conn?”
“Yes,” Blaine said carefully. “Conn and Leona...”
Chrissie paused. “It might be a good idea,” she said slowly. “They will grow up like brother and sister, though,” she warned. “So a betrothal might not suit them.”
“We wouldn't hold them to it,” Blaine said lightly. “I mean, if they grew up and found someone else, how could we stand in the way of that?”
Chrissie smiled into his eyes. “How could we, indeed?”
Blaine grinned, a slow smile spreading across his easygoing, handsome face. “Yes,” he nodded. “We have been lucky, have we not? How could we deny them what we have?”
“Yes,” Chrissie nodded, feeling her heart melt with tenderness. “How could we, of all people, deny our children a chance at finding love?”
Blaine smiled, his eyes warm. “Well, we have been very blessed.” He kissed her.
“Yes,” Chrissie murmured, snuggling up closer to him, her body pressed against his, arms holding him close. “Yes, we have.”
Very blessed indeed.
Outside, the sun shone on golden fields and, somewhere up the hallway, the sound of children laughing filled the solar as she and her husband drowsed in each other’s arms, warm and content. The future was bright, the past was passed, and the present was all they had ever wanted. They could not have been happier.
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ALSO BY EMILIA FERGUSON
Lairds of Dunkeld Series
Book 1 Link -> Heart Of A Highlander
Book 2 Link -> The Highlander’s Challenge
Book 2 Link -> The Highland Hero
Acknowledgement
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Publisher’s Notes
Copyright © 2017 by EMILIA FERGUSON & MOUNTAINSKY HOUSE PUBLISHING CO.
This book is a work of fiction. Any similarities to real or dead people, places, or events are not intentional and are the result of coincidence. The characters, places, and events are the product of the author’s imagination and are used fictitiously. All rights reserved.
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