JOYOUS HOMECOMING
The ride back from Lochlann was slow. Blaine insisted that they only ride for half a day, and so they broke the journey at an inn called the Babbling Stream. The bed was cold and hard, but it did not bother them overmuch, for they spent the night lost in each other’s arms.
The next morning, around noon, they found themselves almost at Dunkeld. Chrissie felt her spirits lift. Soon she would see her cousins again!
Their welcome at the castle was indeed a hearty one. Amabel, always happy for an excuse for a party, invited their neighbors and threw a feast of which Chrissie – tired and slightly queasy again – was sure she could not partake as much as she would have wished. She found herself opposite a familiar face, however.
“Alina!” she smiled. She had seen her only briefly when they arrived, a tall, dark haired woman in a white gown smiling serenely from the stairwell. Here, now, she found herself faced with a woman who, if still pale, had a flush of color in her cheeks and eyes that sparkled.
“I am glad to see you in good health. And thank you for your help,” she added archly. Chrissie dimpled and felt suddenly shy, looking at her plate.
“I didn't...oh, Alina! It is so wonderful to be home again.”
“I'm glad you're back,” Alina agreed. “Now. Are you going to try some of this roast? I believe Broderick shot it earlier, which is why I am somewhat dubious. But apparently it's good for my health, so...”
“Are you being rude about my hunting skills, again?” Broderick, who sat beside Alina, asked. He was grinning, though, and Chrissie guessed this was a longstanding gibe.
“No,” Alina said lightly. “I just wonder if you're not too hasty to check what it is you're shooting,” she said. “I'm awfully suspicious that this is actually one of Seamus' goats from the hillside.”
They all laughed. Duncan raised his glass to Alina and her black eyes were shining.
Amabel giggled. “She has you there, husband.”
Broderick chuckled, and waved away the laughter. “I surrender,” he agreed. “Yes, I am hasty.”
“Not too hasty, though, brother,” Duncan teased, eyes twinkling. “You still missed your last shot.”
Broderick looked at him, eyes wide. “You scoundrel!” he laughed. “Must you tell everyone?”
Duncan tipped his head back and his merry laughter filled the room. “You beat me anyway, Brother.”
“Good.”
Chrissie, looking from one to the other, felt her heart fill with happiness. She looked to her right where her husband sat, smiling, dark eyes shining with mirth. She squeezed his knee and felt as if she had never felt so joyful.
It was good to be back.
Later that evening, she lay in bed, her stomach aching, wishing she had not eaten as much as she had. She felt as if she might die. She heard a knock at the door. Alina drifted in, long black hair freshly brushed and shining. She came and sat on the bed.
“Chrissie. How are you feeling? Not well, I think?”
Chrissie pulled a face at her and they both smiled.
“I feel horrible, Alina,” she confessed. “Is this...as it should be?”
Alina smiled. “I think so. At least, Amabel has felt this bad. I felt terrible, too.”
“Oh.” Chrissie looked at her hands, feeling uncertain whether pregnancy was something Alina wished to discuss. She looked up again and noticed that her cousin had a strange secret smile. She wanted to ask her what it was, but trusted that Alina would tell her in time.
“Your babe will be strong,” Alina said, though Chrissie had not asked her. She sat perfectly still, aware that Alina's gift did not move her to prophesy all that often, and that if she wished to know, she should be still and pay her heed. Alina smiled. “He is...he will surprise you,” she said.
When she looked up, her black eyes, olive shaped and fringed with lashes, were smiling. Chrissie did not understand quite what it was she meant, but the words filled her with a deep sense of peace. She smiled back.
In that moment, she felt as if she and Alina had crossed some sort of bridge. Always close, it felt as if they had entered a new realm of closeness. It was a good feeling. She squeezed Alina's hand and Alina squeezed back.
Later, when her cousin had gone to bed, Chrissie lay back and waited for Blaine to come in. He had stayed on to talk to Duncan who had been quite merry when she went upstairs, feeling ill. She heard the door squeak and Blaine tiptoed in.
She sat up, watching him take off his boots and sit down heavily on the bed. He turned to look at her, his eyes soft with love.
“I'm awake,” she whispered.
“Good.”
He undressed and they lay together and their bodies explored each other almost without their volition. Later, as she fell asleep, Chrissie knew that she had never in her life felt quite this happy.
The days lengthened into months. Winter came and the road to the castle filled with snow. Confined mainly to the upper rooms, Chrissie spent most of her time swathed in fur cloaks, sitting by the fire, sewing garments for the babe.
Alina was a constant companion, and she seemed to be working on some complicated piece of sewing, the purpose of which she did not confide and Chrissie did not inquire. Amabel joined them sometimes in the cozier space of the turret room – the solar was too cold at this time of year. Sometimes, she brought Joanna to join them and Chrissie felt a stab of wistfulness, seeing the little girl curled up beside Amabel on the settee, fast asleep.
Soon I will have a babe in my own arms.
She wondered how Alina felt, seeing her sister with her babies. However, Alina always seemed happy with the children, never resentful, and Chrissie was glad it did not cause her pain. The months seemed to have helped Alina's health, for her cheeks had flushed red and her skin seemed suffused with a pearly glow that lent her already ethereal beauty a breathtaking loveliness.
“Alina?” Chrissie asked one afternoon, just before Candlemas, the darkest part of the year. She was sitting opposite Alina, whose black hair was shining in flame light, the fire playing on the pearly sheen of her cheek. Her gown was low-necked, and the light shone on the soft roundness of her breasts, their skin traced with a pale blue veins.
Chrissie stared. Suddenly, without needing to be told, she guessed. She looked up to see Alina's black eyes watching her. The damask lips smiled at her.
“What?” Alina's voice teased her.
“Alina,” Chrissie said softly. “You are...you're...”
“I am expecting a child,” Alina said quietly. “You are right.”
“But what? When? How...oh, Alina!” Chrissie exclaimed loudly. She jumped out of her seat and ran to her cousin, kissing that pearl white cheek. “Oh, how wonderful!”
“About a few weeks after you, I should think,” Alina said carefully. “I didn't want to say, not until I knew. However, it is just on three months now, and nothing changed. So I ...” she trailed off, and Chrissie noticed her eyes shone and her mouth worked, as if she tried not to give vent to her tears.
Chrissie gulped. “Alina,” she said gently. She felt lost for words. It was wonderful! Her cousin was expecting a child and she was, too!
“I know,” Alina smiled.
They said nothing, only held each other’s gaze. So much passed between them in that moment, so much of understanding.
“Amabel,” Chrissie said.
“She suspects, yes,” Alina said. “I think she knows I do not want to speculate...but she knows, yes.”
“Oh!” Chrissie covered her mouth with her hands, a happy laugh escaping her before she could stop it. “Oh, this is so wonderful! We will give birth almost at the same time, I think...How full of life the house will be then!”
Alina looked at her, dark eyes blank. She gave an ironic grin. “Yes. Indeed. That will be...quite an experience, I suspect.”
They both laughed and the afternoon passed in happy sewing and excited thoughts.