"Ye are what?” Iain rasped, abruptly sitting down on the bed.
Seeing how pale he had gone, Islaen decided she had been right. He was not going to take it well. She had half-hoped that since it was a fait accompli, he would accept it, but realized that had been a foolish hope. A fear that ran as deep as his was not so easily conquered. She could only be thankful that she had only a little over three months left to wait.
Having followed him from the bailey to their chambers she still had her cloak on, so she removed it. “With child."
With a horrified fascination, Iain's gaze fixed upon her abdomen. The swell there was small but large enough to round the front of her gown. His dazed mind finally made him realize that such rounding took a while.
"How far along are ye?” he asked suspiciously.
"O'er five months."
"And ye didnae tell me?” he yelled.
"Nay and, an I hadnae started to show, I would still be keeping it quiet.” She sighed as she saw the anger in his eyes. “Iain, ye didnae want the bairn, didnae want me to get with child at all. I felt t'was news ye wouldnae be anxious to hear so didnae give it to ye until I couldnae hide it any longer. No one likes to tell someone something they dinnae want to hear."
He stood up and began to pace the room.
"So, I am the last to ken it, am I?"
"Weel, I only told Storm and Meg but, aye, ye may be. As ye can see, ‘tis most clear now but no one has spoken on it."
"If ye had spoken earlier mayhaps we could have,” he began, hating the words even as he spoke them.
"Dinnae say it, Iain,” she whispered. “Mayhaps that is another reason I kept silent. I ken that there are ways to take the bairn from a woman's body but I would ne'er do it. ‘Tis best we didnae have that confrontation."
"Aye, ye are most like right.” He ran a hand through his hair and stared at her stomach. “I ken I wouldnae have made ye either,” he whispered, then began to collect his things. “It must have been that night ye came to me. I should be hanged for my lack of control. T'was reckless."
"What are ye doing?” She decided it would be unwise to correct his erroneous conclusion about the time of conception, for then he might start to think about it too much. “Ye arenae going back to Muircraig, are ye?"
"I am going to my own chambers,” he announced as he left her chambers, carrying as many of his things as he could.
"These are your chambers. We are wed, so share a room. My being with bairn need nae change that. The bed is big enough for the three of us,” she jested weakly but he just ignored her, quietly setting his things down and going back to get more. “Iain, there isnae any need for this,” she said a little frantically when he came back into the room.
"Ye are with child."
"So what? I dinnae understand this at all."
"Ye need rest and to be treated gently, to be taken great care of."
"Ye need nae leave our bed to do that.” This was a reaction she had not foreseen, and was at a loss as to what to do about it.
"Islaen, an I share your bed I will make love to you."
"Weel, at least now ye ken that ye willnae get me with child.” He ignored that and she began to feel really desperate. “'Tis nay wrong to do so."
"It could endanger ye or the child."
"I have been in this state for months and we have made love often."
"Anither reason why ye should have told me sooner. We are simply fortunate no harm was done."
"Iain, I am certain t'will nay harm me,” she said as he gently took her by the arm and led her back to her room.
"I willnae take the chance,” he said firmly, then left her standing in the middle of her room.
Stunned, Islaen stared at the door that now separated them. She briefly thought of going after him and continuing the argument, then decided against it. Not only her pride rebelled, but she was sure she would get nowhere while the shock he had suffered was still so fresh. He was in no condition to listen to any argument or reason. It was hard not to race after him and call him an idiot as well as a few other highly unflattering things, but she resisted the urge. She would give him some time to come to his senses. Islaen just hoped she did not grow too round in the meantime, so round that when he did return to her bed she was past caring or he was.
Her hurt feelings about Iain's reaction to her being with child were soothed somewhat by everyone else's reaction when Iain announced it. She had been right in thinking that most everyone had guessed but they were clearly as relieved as she felt to have it openly admitted to.
It was still early when she sought her bed. She knew the others would be up late, but she was not truly in the mood to stay with them. As she settled into her empty bed she mused crossly that she did not really have much to celebrate. Now was a time when she and Iain should be sharing the joy of their coming first child, planning the future. Instead, he was soaking himself in wine and ale and would soon be carried off to his own bed. She had the sad feeling that she would get little support and joy from Iain even if all his kin spoke to him. As she started to drift off to sleep, she hoped, a little vindictively, that his overindulgence this night left him properly sick on the morrow.
Iain groaned and collapsed back onto his bed after only half-sitting up. He heard a noise and opened his eyes a little bit to find a solemn Tavis bending over him. A cool cloth on his forehead eased his discomfort slightly.
"This isnae like ye, Iain,” Tavis said quietly as he urged his brother to drink a potion.
Wondering how something that tasted so vile could cure him, Iain rasped, “Getting so fou, ye mean? I have done so before."
"Rarely. I speak more of how ye are acting. Ye left Islaen alone most of the evening. Storm wished me to point out that ‘tis cruel of ye to make your fears so clear. Do ye think the lass has none? ‘Tis her first bairn. She must have a few."
As guilt swamped him, Iain said a little sulkily, “She kens my feelings in this."
"Aye, but ye need not rub her face in them. And just why are ye here? Why arenae ye in with her?"
"Because she is with bairn and I willnae risk hurting her or the bairn. Nay,” he growled when Tavis made to protest, “ye willnae change my thinking on this. She is a wee lass and having a braw rogue like me at her cannae be good."
"Just see if ye can cease looking at her and acting as if she is already in the grave,” Tavis snapped and left Iain alone.
It was an effort but Iain tried to follow Tavis's advice. He knew it was wrong to plague Islaen with his fears, so did his best to hide them, but they still ate at him. Although he was tempted to return to Muircraig, he stayed at Caraidland. He felt a need to watch her, to assure himself that, at least for now, she was healthy and safe. Iain thought he was doing very well until one evening when they sat together in the hall, he trying to read a missive from Alexander and Islaen sewing.
Islaen bit her tongue but the words huddled there could no longer be held back. “Will ye cease?"
Looking at his wife in startled curiosity, Iain asked cautiously, “Cease what?"
"Staring at my belly. God's teeth, ye are e'er gazing at it as if ye expect the bairn to burst out."
"That is nonsense,” he said, a little weakly, for he strongly suspected that he had been doing exactly what she accused him of.
"Aye, ‘tis nonsense,” she grumbled as she stood up and collected up her things. “Ye need nae keep watching for it. The bairn isnae going anywhere for a few months anyhow and when it does move it willnae come that way.” She hurried away, a little worried that she would say a lot more, too much in fact, if she lingered.
Iain sighed. He again wondered if he should return to Muircraig but could not make himself leave. Although he did make himself stop staring at her so often, he found something else to worry about. Islaen seemed to be spending a great deal of time in the stables talking with Wallace. He was not sure it was good for a woman in her condition to be so close to animals or the stables. He had heard that such things could mark the child although he could not recall exactly how or why that was supposed to happen.
"Islaen?” he ventured as he walked her to her chambers one evening. “Why are ye spending so much time in the stables?"
Pausing just inside her door she stared at him. “To study the animals."
"Oh. Aye. But why?"
"Because I have a bairn coming."
"What has that to do with the stables and the animals?"
She wondered a little crossly why no one seemed to understand what she was doing. “They ken how to birth better than we do. Good sleep, Iain.” She abruptly shut her chambers door not really concerned about whether he understood or not.
Although he did not really see what benefit she could get out of it, Iain made no further mention of her visits to the stables. If it eased her mind he felt it was invaluable. He just wished he could find something to ease his.
Finally he left for Muircraig but only stayed away a week. It was late at night when he entered his chambers and he stoutly resisted the urge to go and check on her. That would reassure him as far as his fears for her health went but he knew it would also be a temptation he might not be able to resist. He sighed as he undressed, then washed up and crawled into his too empty bed. Although he felt it best for her health that they sleep apart, he sorely missed her in his bed and ached to hold her. It would be too easy to convince himself that such care was unnecessary.
Islaen lay in her bed and listened to Iain moving around in his chambers. She was a little surprised that his stay at Muircraig had been so short. Then she started to grow angry as time passed and he did not even come to see her. Muttering soft curses, she sat up and started to get out of bed. She decided that the separation he had forced upon them had lasted long enough. Bracing herself for what would undoubtedly be a taxing argument, she started towards his chambers.
Warily Iain watched his wife approach his bed. The thin shift she wore revealed the changes in her lithe shape. Although the clear signs of pregnancy gnawed at his fears, the sight of her stirred his passion.
"Is something wrong, Islaen?” he asked, silently cursing the telltale huskiness in his voice.
"Aye, verra wrong.” She crawled into bed at his side, ignoring the way he tensed. “My bed is verra empty. My husband is missing."
"There is a good reason for that.” He clenched his hands as he resisted the urge to pull her into his arms.
"Is there? Weel, I havenae heard it yet."
"Islaen, an I share a bed with ye, I will make love to you."
"That is nice to hear.” She turned on her side to look at him. “I thought ye might have lost interest because of the changes in me."
"Nay,” he rasped and sidled away from her, “but I willnae give into that interest."
"Why not?"
She was beginning to find it all very amusing, despite a stern self-scolding over such ill-timed levity. Nevertheless the way the large muscular Iain was almost running away from his small pregnant wife was amusing. Reaching out and stroking his thigh, she had to bite her lip to keep from giggling when he nearly leapt out of the bed. His extreme skittishness assured her that he did still want her, and it strengthened her determination to end their needless abstinence. She had no intentions of letting him deprive her of his passion, the one thing he gave her freely.
"Islaen, I could hurt ye or the bairn. Ye ken it weel."
"Nay, I dinnae."
"Then ye are being purposely blind."
"Nay, ye are. Did Tavis e'er leave Storm's bed?"
"Weel, nay, but..."
"My fither ne'er left my mither's either. I dinnae ken where ye get this notion."
"'Tis a reasonable one. S'truth, physicians have espoused it."
"Aye, they also bleed men with open bleeding wounds, taking more of what the poor soul has already lost too much of. Unless ye mean to toss me about, I cannae see that ye will hurt me. I ken that I might soon grow too full to find pleasure in it, or for ye to want to do it. Seems foolish to waste this time."
In the face of her calm, Iain found it hard to cling to his resistance. It seemed reasonable that she would know better than he did what she could or could not do. Knowing that his own need for her could be clouding his judgment, he struggled to stay firm in his decision on abstinence. He grimaced when she curled up to his side and he made no move to push her away.
"Considering what lovemaking entails, I cannae believe ‘tis fully safe,” he said and cursed the wavering of his convictions.
"Weel, so long as ye arenae trying to go in whilst the bairn is trying to come out..."
"Islaen!” he gasped.
"Wheesht, ‘tis true.” She sensed his weakening resolve and ran her hand over his chest. “Iain, the troubled time for the bairn is in the first three months, while his hold isnae strong. This bairn is weel set. T'would take more than ye would e'er do to shake him free and ye cannae reach him to harm him."
"Of course I cannae, but...” His words strangled to a halt as her tongue flickered over his nipples and, although he told himself to push her away, his hands burrowed into her thick hair.
Islaen smiled faintly sensing his surrender. She knew all she had to do now was convince him of the safety of making love so long as she was comfortable with it, and they did not get too rough. It was important for she knew how easily he could reclaim his former determination to abstain as well as feel both guilt and anger at her for losing it. Her smile widened as she thought of the perfect way to show him that making love could hurt neither her nor the child.
"Iain,” she said softly, trailing kisses down to his abdomen as she caressed his hips and arranged herself comfortably between his long legs, “I was with child when Fraser tried to rape me.” She decided that was probably true but, even if it was not, it fit in with his opinion of when conception took place.
"Jesu,” Iain breathed in shock, briefly distracted from the passion her caresses were stirring. “He was so rough."
"Aye. I was with bairn when MacLennon attacked us. He wounded me too, ye recall, and ye werenae verra gentle getting me to safety.” She leisurely kissed her way down one of Iain's strong legs.
It was hard to think when she was firing his blood so, but her words penetrated passion's haze and made sense. “And when Fraser nearly raped ye at the crofter's hut,” he murmured huskily, then suddenly sat up. “The blood on your thighs."
Not stopping her attentions she kissed her way up his other leg. “From cuts. Ye saw them yourself.” She turned her amorous attentions to his loins and felt him shudder as her tongue slowly stroked him. “And none of that hurt me or the bairn."
He found it impossible to think, let alone speak while her warm mouth and tongue caressed him so intimately, but managed to rasp, “Ye were lucky."
"Aye but I meant for you to see that ye couldnae e'er do worse to me than that. Nay, certainly not by making love."
Closing his eyes as he groaned with pleasure when her mouth engulfed him, he whispered, “Nay, not with that. Ah, God's beard, Islaen, go slow. Go verra, verra slow. I ache to savor the pleasure ye give."
A moment later she sat up to look at him. “Mayhaps we best let ye calm down a wee bit then.” When he grinned at her, she knew she had won, that she had succeeded in changing his mind.
Reaching out, he tugged off her shift. “Calm down, eh? I thought ye set out to excite me beyond thinking."
"Weel, not beyond thinking. Ye cannae agree when ye cannae think.” Her voice grew huskier as his hands cupped her breasts.
Leaning forward he gently took the taut tip of her breast into his mouth. Islaen cried out softly and, burying her hands in his thick hair, held him close. Iain needed no such urging to savor the sweet bounty of her flesh. Finally, he cupped her face in his hands and brushed his lips over hers until she opened her eyes partway to look at him.
"Do I get a reward for being so agreeable?"
"A reward?” she asked a little dazedly.
"Aye,” he said softly. “I have calmed down a wee bit."
He caught his breath when she smiled with a sweet lechery and, with a tantalizing slowness, lay down between his legs. Her gaze never left his as her small tongue flicked out to stroke him and he shuddered. Although she went slowly as he had requested, he knew he would not be able to enjoy her attentions with the same leisure that she gave them. Watching her, seeing in her eyes that she enjoyed pleasuring him so, was shredding what little control he had at an alarming rate. Giving a hoarse cry but moments later, he pulled her up into his arms, sat her astride him and neatly joined their bodies.
"Witch,” he rasped as he held her by the hips and slowly moved her against him. “One of these days I shall learn how to enjoy that for longer than a moment or two."
When he put his arm around her and leaned her back a little so that his mouth could play over her breasts, Islaen knew she would not be able to delay her release for very long. The little control she had vanished completely when his hand moved between them. His skilled fingers found that bud beneath the silken curls and, with barely a touch, sent her tumbling into desire's sweet darkness. She clung to him and an instant later his body also shuddered with release. His arms tightened around her as they rocked gently, savoring the remnants of their passion.
Reluctantly, for he enjoyed the way she felt when they were so intimately entwined, Iain eased the closeness of the embrace. Taking her with him, he lay down and tugged the covers over them. Feeling her cuddle up to him, he sighed. It felt good to have her back in his arms.
"I suppose ye are savoring victory,” he drawled, idly running his fingers through her hair.
Although she recognized the teasing note in his voice and smiled sleepily, she said seriously, “Nay, not victory. I mean..."
He kissed her forehead. “I was but teasing, lass."
"I ken it but in teasing there can lie some truth."
"Mayhaps. I was wrong. I ken it now. I was forcing us to do what neither of us wanted and there wasnae a need to.” His hold on her tightened a little. “'Tis just that I ... Nay I willnae speak on it. Ye probably ken what I meant to say anyhow,” he muttered.
Since she did and he knew it, Islaen made no reply, simply held him tightly. When the child within her moved she hoped Iain did not sense it for she did not want his thoughts too much upon what he feared. He tensed and she sighed. Since her belly was pressed against him it had been foolish to think he could miss the movement. Almost shyly his hand came to rest upon her stomach. She waited to see how he would react to the proof of the life within her womb and almost smiled when the child moved and Iain cursed softly, then jerked his hand away. Gently, she took his hand and placed it back upon her stomach.
"The bairn lives, Iain. That is a thing to find only joy in."
"Aye,” he whispered hoarsely. “How can ye sleep with such as this going on within your body?"
"Sometimes I cannae.” She yawned and nuzzled her face in his neck. “Sometimes e'en that cannae keep me awake."
A moment later he had to smile in soft surprise for, despite the movement he could still feel within her womb, she had fallen asleep. He wondered if she too found it hard to sleep alone. It was pleasant to think that she did, even if it stirred a feeling of guilt for he knew he made her sleep alone much too often. If an empty bed gave her sleepless nights, he was fully to blame.
Long into the night he lay awake, his hand upon her stomach. Every sign of life he felt left him torn between wondrous joy and terror. He indulged in a great many prayers before he finally went to sleep, his fears briefly obliterated by exhaustion.
The weather turned bad the next day giving the land a brief taste of the swiftly approaching winter. Islaen did not mind it for it held Iain at Caraidland for a while.
The night the weather finally broke, Iain made fierce love to her and Islaen knew that he would be leaving her again. She was not at all surprised when, as they lay sated in each other's arms, he told her he would be leaving in the morning. Islaen wished she could see into his mind, see if he was hurrying away because something she had done or said had touched him, for then she would keep doing it.
"Muircraig willnae be ready for us this winter,” she said only half-questioning the fact.
"Nay, and e'en an it was I think we should stay here."
"Until the bairn is born."
"Aye. There is help for ye here and I cannae take it all to Muircraig."
"Ye dinnae mean to winter at Muircraig, do ye?” she asked softly, unable to keep all of her fear out of her voice as that possibility suddenly assailed her.
"Nay.” He held her tightly. “I will be with ye when your time comes."
She knew that would be hard for him just as she knew she would keep him as uninvolved as she could but she was glad he would be near. If nothing else she wanted him close at hand to hear her confession about the deceit she had employed so that if anything went wrong he could not blame himself. In some ways it would be easier for her if he was not near but she also knew she would do all she could to see that he was close by.