22

As Lynx opened her chamber door, Jane gave a great yawn and set aside the tiny nightgown she had been sewing. She struggled to arise and Lynx waved his hand to stop her. “Nay, don’t get up on my account.”

She smiled softly. “I’m not. I have to move about to relieve the ache in my back.”

“Then let me help you.” He was beside her instantly. “Just hold out your hand and I’ll pull myself up.” He did as she instructed and Jane levered herself from the chair. “Oh, that made it so much easier than doing it myself. Thank you.”

They lapsed into an awkward silence, the same gulf separating them as when they parted. Lynx desperately wanted to close the void that had opened between them. For one thing he wanted to touch his child, and for another, he wanted to sleep in the same bed with her in case she needed him. They had fallen into the habit of being scrupulously polite with one another and he searched his mind for a way to toss politeness out the window.

Lynx wondered how she would react if he said exactly what was on his mind. I want to see you naked. Suddenly, Jane yawned again and he saw that her eyelids were drooping. Lynx leaped across the chasm. “You can hardly keep your eyes open, let me undress you.”

Jane’s eyelids lifted quickly enough, then her lashes fanned her cheeks as she guessed what he wanted.

Lynx held out his hand to her and she placed hers in it and allowed him to draw her close. He sat down before the fire and opened his thighs so she could move between them. Then he undid the buttons on each side of her smock and drew it over her head. Her fine lawn chemise clung to her body, outlining her shape. To his discerning eyes she was carrying the child much lower now than the last time he’d seen her.

As he reached to lift off her shift, Jane modestly turned her back to him. She was naked now, standing between his thighs, yet still he had seen only her back. He reached up to undo her thick plait and her hair tumbled over his hands like flaming silk. Lynx said thickly, “Turn for me, Jane.”

Very slowly, Jane turned until she faced him. Lynx drew in a swift breath. It was the first time he had ever seen a naked female heavy with child, and he was absolutely enthralled. The curve of her belly was pronounced, yet beautiful in its elliptical shape. Her breasts were full, round, firm, and luscious. The skin of her breasts and belly was so taut and smooth, it looked like cream satin.

The firelight played across her flesh, turning it from cream, to golden, to flame. Her hair whispered about her shoulders, possessively clinging, curling, covering her delicate collarbone. The outward curve of her precious burden shadowed her mons, making it seem an extremely private and secret place.

“You are so beautiful, you stop the breath in my throat,” he said reverently.

Tentatively at first, he brushed his fingertips across her skin, then when he found her flesh so firm and warm to the touch, he became bolder and caressed her mounded belly with loving hands. “I want to sleep with you tonight.”

She leaned into his hands, loving the feel of them against her skin. “I don’t sleep much these nights, it’s difficult to be comfortable. I lie on my side and cushion the baby with a bolster.”

“Let me be your bolster; lie against me tonight.”

She nodded shyly and before he lifted her into bed, Lynx put his lips to her firm, fragrant flesh and covered her with kisses. Then Lynx stripped off his clothes and joined her in the bed, ready to accommodate her any way he could.

“I need your back,” Jane whispered.

Obligingly he turned on his side and presented his broad back to her. Jane moved against him, putting her left arm about his chest, then she slipped her left leg between his, so that the baby lay against his back. She felt so secure in the warm nest that soon her eyes closed and her breathing deepened in slumber.

Lynx, knowing the child was safe between the two people who had created it and loved it, felt a deep contentment steal over him. When he knew that Jane finally slept, he relaxed and fell asleep with the baby rhythmically kicking his back.

Lynx awoke with a start, not knowing how long he had been asleep. Beside him, Jane was struggling to sit up, while trying to muffle sounds of distress. The chamber was pitch-black, so Lynx swung his legs from the bed and fumbled about the night table until he had the candles lit.

“Is the baby coming? Stay calm, I’ll get help.” He sprang up and was halfway to the door before her words penetrated his brain.

“No, please, don’t alert the castle, please, Lynx.”

He came back to the bed, running a hand through his tawny mane of hair until it stood on end. “I thought your labor had started.”

Jane put her hand on his arm to keep him at her side. “It has only just begun, it will go on for hours yet. It’s barely midnight, I think; the baby won’t be born before daylight.”

Lynx looked at her in alarm. “Don’t you want the midwife or one of the other women? Tell me who you want.” “I want only you, for now.”

Lynx took a deep breath. Whatever Jane wanted at this moment, Jane was going to get. “Sweeting, what do you want me to do?”

“I want you to stay with me, talk to me, help me make it through the darkest hours of the night until dawn breaks.”

He picked up her bedgown, spun from soft cream lamb’s wool, and wrapped it about her, then helped her from the bed. He rekindled the fire, pulled up the big chair, and took her onto his lap. Tenderly, he brushed a curl from her temple. “Are you afraid?”

Jane looked into his green eyes and knew if she admitted the truth, he might panic. Not only was she afraid for herself, but fear for her baby threatened to overwhelm her. But at all costs, Jane knew she must not transfer her fears to Lynx. In her woman’s wisdom, she knew this was a time when they must give each other strength.

The corners of her mouth went up. “How can I be afraid when you are holding me?”

He pulled her head against his shoulder and stroked her hair. He felt her body stiffen as a pain knifed into her. When it passed, she whispered, “Talk to me.”

He said the first thing that came into his head. “Did you read the letter I sent you?” Feeling a need for honesty between them, he admitted, “I tore up the first three that I wrote … they were filled with orders.”

Jane too wanted no more secrets between them. “I cannot read,” she whispered, “but Jory has promised to teach me. I put your letter beneath my pillow.”

Lynx laughed, recalling the struggle he’d had with the damn thing. “I didn’t learn how to read until I was nine. My tutors had to beat it into me. All I cared for was horses and swords and battle strategy. Then John de Warenne told me I couldn’t become his squire until I could read. I learned fast enough then.”

He talked to her for hours, discussing everything from religion to what it felt like before going into battle. Whenever Jane was gripped with an agonizing labor pain, Lynx talked her through it, masking his own fear so he would not communicate it to her. Every hour he rubbed her back, massaged her feet, and brought her endless drinks of water.

All the while he kept talking. At one point he even found himself wanting to tell her of his first marriage and the difficulties they had encountered, but realized this was neither the time nor the place. Instead, he asked her about names for the baby. If it was a girl, Jane said she wanted to call her Jory, and if it was a boy, they settled on Lincoln, which was his late father’s name, as well as his own.

Toward morning her contractions were coming closer together and Lynx was relieved when Taffy arrived with a breakfast tray. His young squire took in the situation with his first glance and ran to tell Lady Marjory. Soon the chamber was filled with women. The castle midwife arrived and Elizabeth de Burgh brought Molly and Maggie, both experienced midwives in their own right. Judith Leslie appeared and Jane’s sister Mary soon followed. Both of them had given birth in the last few months.

Lynx became alarmed as Jane’s moans increased. Then she began to pant and her lovely hair became drenched with perspiration. “Can’t you do something for her?” he demanded grimly.

Molly, a plainspoken Irish woman, did not approve of a man being present at such a time. “Jane is small; your baby enormous. This is what childbirth is like!”

Lynx appealed to Judith. “Can’t you give her something for the pain?”

Judith shook her head helplessly. “Only Megotta knows which herbs to use.”

He saw Jane murmur a request to Jory, who went to the wardrobe and brought back something made of black velvet. Jane clutched it to her possessively and closed her eyes. “This is my bedrobe,” Lynx said, at a loss.

Jane opened her eyes and murmured, “It brings me comfort.”

A great lump of guilt rose in his throat as he acknowledged that he was the author of all this misery. He felt Jane grab his hand and knew she needed desperately to communicate something to him. He went on his knees and bent his head close to her bloodless lips.

“Lynx,” she whispered, “please leave me now … I cannot scream in front of you.”

He gathered both her hands in his and kissed them, then he got to his feet and strode from the chamber. He did not stop until he was at Megotta’s house.

When she opened the door at his insistent hammering, Megotta demanded, “What do you want?”

Lynx searched his mind for a way to get through to her. “I want some common ground between us so we can communicate.”

“We will never have common ground!”

“You and I have much in common. We both have a towering pride that rules our lives, but we both care deeply for Jane … Help ease her suffering, Megotta.”

“She’s giving birth to a Norman; she deserves to suffer!”

The old crone was so blood-proud, Lynx wanted to strike her. Despite her harsh words, he could see from the expression on her face that she was concerned about Jane. He decided to use cunning to manipulate her. He shrugged his shoulders and made to leave. “We have two Irish midwives in charge; Jane can manage without you.”

The word “Irish” did the trick. “Irish? They’ll botch the job!” Megotta grabbed her medicinal box and scurried past him in her headlong rush to the castle.

    Because of the impending birth, Dumfries’ steward wisely put, the holiday celebrations on hold, and since there would be plenty of time before the castle started rejoicing, he directed the maidservants and young pages to gather holly, ivy, and evergreen boughs to decorate the hall. Then Jock Leslie took pity on Lynx and kept him occupied for the next few hours as best he could.

With the help of David Leslie, who was in charge of the stores, they did an inventory of the food supplies Dumfries had on hand, calculated what Lynx’s men would take in their baggage train, then made a list of what would be left. Then they did the same with fodder for the animals. Though the supplies seemed adequate, Lynx knew it was wise to set aside a healthy reserve that they could call on in an emergency. He arranged to send half a dozen men to Carlisle for the extra provisions.

Lynx realized the time would pass more quickly if he focused his attention on the task at hand, but still he had difficulty separating his mind completely from what was happening in the Master Tower. As he walked to the armory, Lynx thought he heard the wail of a baby, but it was a familiar enough sound at Dumfries and he was soon distracted when his chief armorer admitted to a dilemma.

Apparently there were some weapons missing. The armorer had assumed they were at the forge for cleaning and repairing, but when a tally had been taken, the count had come up short. Lynx made a mental note to query his knights and went himself to the blacksmith forge to question James and Alex Leslie. They pleaded ignorance of any knowledge of the weapons’ whereabouts, so Lynx decided not to interrogate them further until he had spoken to his men-at-arms. But he wasn’t entirely convinced they knew nothing; weapons did not get up and walk of their own volition.

Back in the castle he wandered about aimlessly and was inevitably drawn to the vast kitchens by the savory smells of roasting meat and baking pastries. Oxens and whole stags were spitted and turning over in gigantic, walk-in fireplaces built into the walls. The outer kitchens were filled with his Welshmen, plucking game and skinning hares for tomorrow’s feast.

Suddenly, Lynx felt as if the walls of the castle were closing in on him. The heat of the kitchens was suffocating and he knew he needed a dose of fresh air. He went to the stables, saddled a favorite mount, and headed into the wind. He followed the river Nith to its mouth and rode along the pebbled shore of the Solway Firth where it opened into the sea. The weather was too harsh for any ships to be anchored in the small port today.

The wind was bitter cold, but he welcomed it, breathing in the salt air as if it were the elixir of life. The rocks and shells on the beach were coated with ice, so he did not ride recklessly, but cantered slowly, savoring the lashing waves and the endless screams of the seabirds. Lynx did not want to think, only feel. By becoming one with the windswept slate sky and the roiling pewter sea, whose turbulence was infinitely greater than his own, he achieved a measure of calm within.

When he headed back to Dumfries, the afternoon light was fading from the sky. He gave his horse a good rub-down and an extra measure of oats, then headed for the castle. He expected the first man he met to give him the news that he longed for yet dreaded at the same time, but though the men in the hall greeted him, they gave him no news.

Lynx knew he must go to Jane and face whatever awaited him behind the closed door of her chambers. Splendor of God, where would he find the courage? He looked down at his hands in dismay, realizing he stank of horse. As he climbed the outside stairs to his own tower rooms he wondered if his decision to bathe and change was one of cowardice.

When he opened his chamber door, he found both Thomas and Taffy awaiting him. Expecting the worst, Lynx braced himself.

“Where the blazing hell have ye bin?” Thomas demanded.

“They asked for you two hours ago,” Taffy added, pouring hot water from the cans into the wooden tub.

“The child?” Lynx questioned.

“Bloody women!” Thomas cursed. “Do ye think they’d let us men know anythin’ at all? They’re like a coven of witches, performin’ their rites, guardin’ their secrets. They hold the whip hand when it comes to childbirthin’ and well they know it! At a time like this they close ranks, press their lips together, and look down their superior noses at the male of the species.”

At Lynx’s look of alarm, Taffy tried to reassure him. “We heard a baby cry hours ago.”

Lynx stripped off his clothes and stepped into the water, thankful that the child was at least born, but worried mindless over whether all was well. With Thomas’s aid he threw on his clothes and stuffed a bag of gold coins into his doublet, then with trepidation he opened the door that led down to Jane’s chambers.

The outer room was filled with women and every last one of them had a smug look on her face.

“Congratulations, my lord, you have a fine, great son.”

“Biggest lad I’ve seen in years!”

Lynx’s anxious green eyes sought out his sister’s for confirmation. Jory looked ready to burst with excitement. “Hurry, she’s waiting for you.”

Lynx felt numb. Somehow he managed to cross the room and walk through the connecting archway. Jane was sitting up in bed, absolutely glowing. A smile lit up her face and her eyes were soft with love. She looked radiant. Lynx was stunned. As he reached her side, he said hoarsely, “When I left, I thought you at death’s door.”

“I needed to scream, then I felt a lot better. Thank you for bringing in Megotta, she gave me something that took away a good deal of the pain.” Jane pulled aside a corner of the shawl that covered the baby. “You have a son, my lord.”

Lynx looked down at the child with disbelief. “They told me he was big; he’s the smallest scrap of humanity I’ve ever seen!”

“He is big … big and beautiful and perfect. Say hello to Lincoln de Warenne the Third.”

He pulled aside the shawl so he could get a better look at his son, then he shook his head in wonder, as a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. The big eyes already had a hint of green and pointed tufts of tawny down covered the baby’s head. “His name may be Lincoln the Third, but he looks like a lynx cub to me.”

“Thank you for letting me have him to myself for the first few hours. I felt so possessive of him, I didn’t know how I was going to share him. But now that you are here, I don’t mind at all. Here, take him.” Jane gently scooped up her son and offered him to his father.

He reached out gingerly, fearing his clumsiness would do the child an injury, but once he held him securely in his arms, Lynx’s natural instincts took over and he vowed no harm would ever come to his child so long as he drew breath.

“You must be dying to show him off. Take him down to the hall and let the men see him,” Jane said proudly.

But suddenly Lynx understood what Jane meant when she had said she was possessive of him and didn’t want to share him. He also better understood the women in the outer room wanting to keep and savor their secret. Just for a while, just for tonight, he didn’t want to share his son with the castle. Lynx’s entire universe encompassed this chamber alone and he wanted to remain here with his child and its mother, where they could be private and undisturbed and shut out the world.

Lynx handed the baby back to Jane. “Tomorrow will be soon enough.” He entered the outer room, sincerely thanked all the women for their help, and gave every one of them a piece of gold. “We want to be alone now,” he explained firmly, “but I’d like the pleasure of telling the men myself, ladies.”

The women filed out, more than happy to keep the secret of the child’s gender from the inquisitive men of Dumfries, who normally ruled the roost.

When Lynx returned, he did not take his child from its mother’s arms, but slipped down on his knees beside the bed and stroked the backs of his fingers across the tawny tufts. “Jane, I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for giving me a son.”

The corners of her mouth lifted with delight. “Nay, I want to thank you for giving me a son. I couldn’t have done it without you,” she teased.

Her words made him remember how the child had been conceived and he felt humbled. Jane had given him this child out of simple duty to her lord, and Lynx knew he would be eternally indebted to her. “Jane, you simply have no idea how grateful I am to you. I want to reward you. Ask anything of me and if it is within my power, I will gift you with it.”

Jane wanted only one thing from Lynx de Warenne; she wanted his love. And suddenly she didn’t think it was an impossibility. The void that stretched between them had narrowed during the hours of her labor. He had tended her with loving hands and surely that was the first step toward tending her with a loving heart. Out of gratitude she knew he was willing to marry her, but she wanted more than his gratitude.

Jane knew he was so joyous at becoming a father, and so well pleased with the child, that he would want more children. She sensed that his next words would be about marriage, because Lynx felt it was his duty to make her his wife. She spoke up quickly. “There is one thing I would like, if you will indulge me.”

Briefly he pictured an expensive jewel. “Just name it.”

“I know you are going to speak of marriage again … would you let me pick the time?”

He stared at her in disbelief. Tomorrow he’d had every intention of sending for the priest and overruling her objections. But she had anticipated him and cleverly held him in check. His green eyes flashed their annoyance. The little minx was going to pit her will against his!

His son opened his mouth and began to scream. He watched Jane murmur a soothing word of love and lift the child to her breast. Lynx was mesmerized as he saw the little mouth fasten to her nipple and his son’s fists clench and unclench on her breast as he took undisputed possession of it.

Lynx’s face softened as the intimate picture touched his heart. He smiled at Jane and murmured, “I can refuse you nothing.”