Epilogue
Kilmarnock, Ayrshire, Dean Castle, All Saints’ Day, November 1, 1312
Rosalin had vowed she wouldn’t scream, but the cramping, stabbing pain took her by surprise. How could something so wonderful hurt so badly?
The sound tore from her lungs, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
It was happening much faster than she’d expected. Too fast. She desperately wanted Robbie to be here. But he was away on a mission, and “Cliffy,” as she called their unborn child, had decided to make his appearance a few weeks early. A messenger had been sent to Douglas when her first cramps had begun last night, but Rosalin didn’t know whether it would reach her husband in time.
The last months of marriage had brought her more joy than she could have imagined. The king had given Robbie some land and an old tower house in Kilmarnock for his faithful service, and they stayed there as much as they could when they weren’t at one of the royal castles with Bruce and the other phantoms. She still called them that, even though she knew they referred to themselves as the Highland Guard.
She’d become close with the other wives. There was something about secrecy and the danger of the missions their husbands undertook that created a special bond among them. They were united in fear when they were gone, and in relief when they returned.
But the woman she’d become closest to was Helen MacKay, formerly Sutherland. When “Angel” wasn’t accompanying the phantoms on a mission, she spent most of her time at the nearby abbey in Ayrshire with Rosalin, helping to set up the refuge they’d established for unwed women who were with child. Helen’s skill as a healer made them a natural team.
It was Helen who tended her now. And Helen to whom she voiced her fears. “Will he make it in time?”
The other woman squeezed her hand. “The babe will be here when he is ready. Whether his father arrives in time or not, I don’t know. But it will be all right; just keep breathing.”
Tears sprang to her eyes. “I want him here.” She sounded like a petulant child, but she couldn’t help it. Selfishly she needed him. She needed his strength to get her through this. The hardest part of being married to a warrior was the time he spent away. Not that she would change it for the world. She was so proud of Robbie. He was still more brigand than knight, but hatred and vengeance no longer drove him.
“I know you do. He will be here if it is humanly possible—or superhumanly possible, knowing him. But he left me here to take care of you.” Helen smiled. “Although left is probably not the right word.”
“Ordered?” Rosalin managed between pained breaths.
“Aye, that’s better.”
Rosalin’s face darkened with worry. “You should be there with them.”
What if something happened to one of the Guardsmen and Helen wasn’t there? Rosalin would never forgive herself.
Helen lifted a brow. “Do you think your husband would be of any use to them if I wasn’t with you? He’d get them all killed, which is why they all insisted I stay here with you. Besides, I have a secret.” She smiled conspiratorially. “I won’t be going on many missions for the next nine months or so.”
Rosalin’s eyes widened. “Oh Helen, a child? That is wonderful!” She managed to hug her friend for a moment before another pain took hold. She was still breathing hard when she asked, “So Magnus finally convinced you?”
Helen smiled. “He’s been patient. More patient than most men would have been. We’ve been married for over three years. But, nay, it wasn’t Magnus. It was seeing all the children at Dunstaffnage during Beltane.” She shrugged. “I realized I was ready. I love my work, but I want to be a mother, too. I hope I can do both. If I waited for the war to end I might be an old woman.”
Bruce was slowly increasing his hold on the throne, but they were still waiting for the decisive battle.
“Of course you can do both,” Rosalin said. “I’m so happy for you.” But then another pain wracked her and her face contorted in a grimace. When it had finally passed, she added, “Although after seeing this so many times, it’s hard to believe you would ever put yourself through it.”
“The rewards are worth the pain.”
“Says the woman not screaming like a banshee with sweat rolling down her face.”
Helen laughed. “And still you manage to look beautiful.”
Rosalin didn’t even deign to respond. For the next hour, pains grabbed hold of her stomach and held. They became longer and more frequent in duration. She was exhausted but excited, knowing that after the long wait their babe was almost here.
“You have to start pushing,” Helen said.
“No, please not yet. Robbie wants to be here.”
“Trust me, you are better off that he’s not. Men are no use in the birthing chamber.”
Suddenly, they heard a sound outside. Helen rushed to the tower window and smiled. “It appears you will get your wish after all.”
Rosalin returned her smile until another pain took hold, and she cried out.
A moment later her husband burst into the room. He looked horrible and wonderful at the same time. He was caked in dirt, his cotun flecked with God-knows-what, his eyes were wild, and his face was taut with fear. But she’d never been so happy to see him in her life.
He rushed to her side, kneeling at the edge of the bed. “God, Rosalin, are you all right?”
“I’m having our baby.”
Some of the fear slipped from his face, and he managed a small smile. “Aye, mo ghrá, I can see that. Or hear it, rather.”
“It hurts.”
He looked at Helen.
“She’s fine,” the other woman assured him. “Now that you are here—”
But she didn’t get a chance to finish. Robbie glanced over at the floor to the pile of bed linens that had been removed after her water broke, and blanched.
He started to sway, and Rosalin grabbed his arm. “If you swoon, Robbie Boyd, I swear to you I will tell Hawk, and you will never get a moment’s peace. And then I will tell my brother. How do you think it will sound in England if it becomes known that the strongest man in Scotland faints at the sight of a little blood?”
“Your blood. It’s your blood.” But the threat had worked. He looked more solid and some of the color was returning to his face. “And I wasn’t going to faint.”
Rosalin and Helen looked at each other and laughed.
“I told you they were useless in the birthing room,” Helen said, and then looked at Robbie. “If I have to set up a bed for you, I’m not going to be happy.”
Robbie scowled at her. “I can do this. Please, I want to be with her.”
He held Rosalin’s hand as the next pain grabbed her, and the next. Somehow having him there helped. It still hurt like Hades, but the edge didn’t seem quite so sharp.
When it was time to push, Helen told him to make himself useful, and he supported Rosalin from behind as she bore down.
She lost track of time. It seemed to go on forever. She didn’t think she’d ever been so relieved when Helen said, “Almost there. One more big push.”
Rosalin gritted her teeth, with her husband whispering encouraging words in her ear, and called on every last ounce of strength to deliver their son into the waiting arms of her friend.
The angry little cry a moment later was the most beautiful sound Rosalin had ever heard. Tears sprang to her eyes.
There were tears in Helen’s eyes as well. “It’s a boy, and he is perfect.”
Rosalin felt the relief in her husband’s body as well as her own. They looked at one another wordlessly, at an utter loss.
After detaching the babe from the placenta and tying the cord, Helen bundled the child in a soft wool plaid and handed the red, squalling infant to Rosalin.
He had a downy tuft of dark hair, but that wasn’t what provoked her to say, “He looks like you.” She looked up at her husband, who was staring at the child as if he’d never seen anything so magnificent. “He certainly has your temper.”
Robbie stroked the baby’s tiny head with the back of his finger. His voice was thick when he said, “What shall we call him?”
She smiled. “I thought…” He gave her a look that said “don’t say it.” But she’d always known exactly what they would call him. “I thought Thomas.”
Robbie held her stare, and the emotion that passed between them was sharp and poignant with the memories. Their child would bear the name of the friend who had unknowingly brought them together. Every time they looked at their son, he would remind them of the love that had been so hard fought and won. At all costs.