Chapter Twenty-Nine

T he pull on her hair woke her, and she opened her eyes and found it wound around and under Garrick. Jillian smiled at the boyish charm that had settled on her warrior husband sometime during their long night of loving.

She stroked his cheek tenderly, enjoying the vastly different texture of his whisker-rough face. She was still smiling when he opened his eyes. Jillian bent down to press her lips to his.

The insistent hammering on the door was punctuated by the loud use of his name. "Garrick!"

"'Tis past the hour I had planned to rise." Placing a chaste kiss on her forehead, he rose and drew on his tunic and braes before handing Jillian her linen shift.

"For God's sake, mon open the door. We're ready to leave."

Garrick opened the door to admit his grouchy vassal.

In spite of his complaining, MacInness beamed at the pair. "I told ye to trust us, lass."

"Thank you, Winslow, for everything."

"My pleasure, lass."

The men left to gather the rest of their party leaving Jillian to quickly wash and braid her hair. In less than one hour, they rode away from London.

*

For the past week Jillian had not felt well. By the time they stopped for the noon meal, she was so nauseous she doubted she could get back on her horse. Only two days away from reaching Merewood, and she was not certain she could make the rest of the journey.

Shaking off Eyreka's hand, she pleaded, "Just give me a few minutes privacy. I'll be fine."

Jillian hoped no one would follow her. She had yet to confide how she was feeling, wanting only to be sick in peace. When she emptied her stomach of what little she had eaten hours before, she sat back on her heels. Weariness engulfed her. How will I be able to walk back to the horses without help?

"Lady Jillian," Roderick's voice called out to her from the other side of the bushes.

"Coming," her voice falsely cheerful to her own ears, but hoped he would not notice.

He seemed relieved when she walked toward him. "Garrick sent me to look for you. He and MacInness are busy scouting the area ahead. When they get back we'll eat."

He paused, taking a good look at her. "You look awful."

She grinned; someone had finally taken her at her word and honestly told her how she fared. "No gentleman would truly tell a lady she looked bad, even if she did."

They laughed. Companionably, she slipped her arm through his, grateful for his strength.

If Roderick noticed her leaning heavily on his arm, he gave no outward indication, merely patting her hand while they walked back through the trees.

Eyreka was waiting expectantly. Her sharply blue eyes bored into Jillian's, demanding to know what was wrong with her.

"Help me unpack the bread and ale, dear."

The mere thought of drinking ale at that very moment turned her stomach completely upside down. Roderick let go of her as she clapped a hand to her mouth and bolted back through the trees.

He started to give chase, but his mother held his arm. "Give her a few moments, dear. She'll be fine." To his surprise, his mother chuckled under her breath.

"God's blood, Mother, she turned a ghastly shade of green. I must go see what ails her," he protested.

Lady Eyreka held firm and convinced him to wait.

When Jillian returned a few minutes later, no one said anything. She accepted the proffered hunk of bread without a word of protest. Eyes closed, she chewed and swallowed, one small bite at a time, until the entire piece had disappeared.

Eyreka handed her a cup of water, which she drank down, greedily.

"Have you told Garrick yet?"

Jillian shook her head.

"Told me what?" He walked toward his wife.

Taking her youngest son by the arm, Eyreka urged, "Come dear, Jillian has something to tell her husband." Looking over her shoulder, she asked, "Don't you, dear?"

"Aye, Reka."

"Is something amiss? You're pale as flour." Garrick took his wife in his arms and held her close, rubbing a hand up and down her spine. When she sighed, he kissed the tip of her nose and then her mouth. "Just tell me. Whatever it is cannot be so horrible. Tell me, don't hold it inside and make yourself sick over it."

The incongruity of his words caused a ripple of laughter to flow from her. She looked up and smiled. At his look of loving concern, her eyes filled with tears.

"Jillian?" Garrick looked worried.

She smiled. "I have a gift for you."

"Oh?" His voice sounded normal now, more relaxed. "What is this gift? When will you give it to me?"

"Before the last snow thaws."

Garrick was lost in total confusion. Jillian smiled, knowing he would be. "Our babe will be born sometime before the end of winter, mayhap the beginning of spring."

He grabbed her up in his arms and swung her around. His shout of joy brought the others running. By the time they were able to share their news, everyone was hugging Jillian, then Garrick.

"You had best feed my son, wife. He'll need to grow big and strong."

"What if he is a daughter?"

"I pray she has your smile."

His lips met hers, sealing their love with a kiss.

*

"Wake up love. We have arrived," Garrick's whispered words tickled her ear.

"Mmmm."

"Dreaming of me?"

Jillian's eyes slowly opened, bringing the face of the man she loved, the father of her babe, into focus. She thought back over the fortnight they spent journeying home, and the life they now knew lay sleeping inside her.

She sighed, snuggling deeper into the arms holding her close. The stone wall surrounding Merewood rose up in front of them. Garrick raised a fist in greeting before placing it over his heart. The warrior on guard duty signaled for the gate to be opened.

The bailey was soon filled to bursting with people talking all at once. The blacksmith demanded to know why Lady Jillian was not riding her own horse, while Stephan, the stable lad, wanted to know if she would help him rub down the beasts. Jillian's smile was brilliant as the crowd of well-wishers gathered closer still.

Gertie spoke up, "While we are all glad to have you back, I am sure Lady Jillian and Lady Eyreka are tired from their long journey."

Her meaning was not lost on anyone. The people slowly went about their business, promising to stop by and talk to Jillian later.

"Now then," Gertie began eyeing her mistress closely, "is there something wrong? Or do you have good news to be shared with Old Gert?"

Garrick chuckled softly. He slid down from the saddle then turned and lifted his wife gently into his arms. "Aye, you meddlesome woman, come winter's end, we will have an heir to Merewood."

Good news traveled fast, and a barrel of mead was brought out, and toasts were made to the couple, their babe, and to Merewood. Jillian stood through it all, though her limbs were stiff from the long ride. Garrick's people were now her people too. When her husband pulled her close to his side, she went willingly. They had a chance to start over. Nothing could possibly happen to break them apart again. Hadn't the worst already happened?

The evening meal continued their earlier celebration. Boisterous toasts rang out through the crowded hall. Jillian's appetite was tempted with lightly seasoned dishes, nothing too heavy, so she would not feel ill.

By the time the meal ended, Jillian leaned sleepily against Garrick's broad shoulder. She roused when he lifted her into his arms.

"Welcome home, husband," she murmured against his cheek.

"Welcome home, wife." His lips brushed lightly across the scar on her forehead. The tenderness of his caress filled her with warmth.

"I love you, Garrick."