Chapter 31

31

S he felt the heat of the hearth on her legs and bottom, but could not figure out where she was. The front of her felt just as warm in spite of the fact that she was not covered in her bed. Anice opened her eyes and realized where she lay— on top of her sleeping husband. Memories of their joining flooded back to her and she rubbed her cheek against his skin remembering the heat and pleasure of it. When she tried to lift her head to look at him, she found his hands entangled in her hair. Her movements must have awakened him, for he shifted beneath her and loosened his grip on her hair.

"My pardon," he whispered in a gravelly voice. "I only wanted to touch it."

She pushed herself up on him and found the embarrassing fact that her bottom half was naked against his and her gown, soaked with milk, now grew cold in the chilly air of the room. Her nipples contracted and she gasped as his hardness grew under her once more. Anice looked at his face and found him staring at her breasts.

Struggling to get off of him, she kept doing all the wrong things and ended up losing her balance and falling on him. She felt the rumble of his laughter in his chest and then his hands were on her hips, lifting her off. With a quick turn to his side, she found herself sitting on the floor next to him. She let her gaze wander over him and she could not help but stare when she saw that his body was ready for another joining.

"Does it stay that way all the time?" She pointed and watched his hardness move under her gaze.

"Aye, Anice," he said, laughing and drawing the plaid over it. "It haes been that way for weeks and weeks. "

"Is it painful?" He grunted at her. "Yer pardon, Robert. I just thought that it looked... uncomfortable."

"Aye," he said on a groan. "'Tis painful and I would rather if we dinna speak of it right now."

He pulled a layer of plaid around his waist and climbed to his feet. Once he gained them, he reached down to help her. The nightgown clung to her now and she needed to get it off and dry herself. She looked at his chest and noticed he was wet with it as well.

"I could not stop it. When I... er... we did that, the milk gushed out, too."

She went to one of the trunks and found what she was looking for. With a fresh gown in one hand and a length of toweling in the other, she walked back to him. With a few quick strokes she dried him off. Then walking to the far corner of the room where the light did not reach, she peeled off her gown, dried her breasts and stomach, and dressed again. Anice turned quickly at his gasp. Apparently the light exposed more than she thought. Her gaze went to the bulge clearly visible beneath the hastily wrapped plaid.

"Anice, ye must stop looking at it," he moaned, readjusting the covering.

"Looking at your..."—she pointed at it when she could not say the word—"does that?"

He leaned his head back and growled out his reply. "I am trying no' to think about it. Mayhap it will relax."

She was so intrigued by his body and by everything that had happened between them and she had so many questions to ask that she simply went on. "You cannot be serious that simply speaking about joining will keep that ready?" She pointed once more and watched the bulge move against the plaid he wore.

"Words are powerful, Anice. I will show ye how to use them, but no' now."

She felt the heat of embarrassment fill her cheeks. Her curiosity was unseemly and it obviously made him uncomfortable. She turned away and walked over to the pile of blankets in front of the hearth, intending to straighten them. Then she realized that things had changed between them. Or had they?

"Where will you sleep?"

He let out a breath and took a step closer to her. "Wherever ye say, Anice. There or in yer bed, 'tis up to ye."

She looked from one to the other place and did not know what to say to him. She wanted to touch him, but could she stand to have him close through the whole night? Would his shaft stay like that until she woke to find him pushing his way inside her? A shiver moved down her spine and some fleeting glimpse of Sandy's face entered her thoughts. Realizing what was happening, she looked at Robert and focused on his face.

"'Twill take more than just this one time to get over yer fears, Anice. There or there"—he pointed at both places—"it makes no difference to me."

She did not answer; she could not find the words to say to him. They were husband and wife now and she did not want to refuse him, but she was not certain she could stop the terrors from visiting while she slept if his body was so near hers.

"That settles it then, 'tis the floor." She would have objected or argued, she wanted to; however, she knew he could see her hesitation. "Dinna fash yerself, Anice. 'Twill take some time for us to adjust to this. I am willing to wait—so long as ye promise to visit me there when the mood strikes ye again?" He offered her a smile as he passed her. She could see he struggled to be kind.

Her love for him filled her heart. In every situation when he had a choice to make, he put her first. Torn by the love inside her and the long-standing fears that still fought for control, she could do nothing but return his smile and climb into her bed. Her empty cold bed. She pulled the covers over her and listened as he settled onto the floor.

"It did not hurt," she said to no one in particular. First, she heard the exhalation of his breath. Then he spoke.

"I did no' think it would."

She sat up and looked over at him, his face and form outlined by the low flames behind him. "Truly? Whyever not?"

"Once I remembered seeing the babe come forth from ye there, I feared ye would no' feel me at all."

"Oh." She had not thought about what he saw of her that night. She'd been too near death to worry about it then and had forgotten it afterwards.

He laughed and looked over at her. "My hand and my arm were inside ye, Anice. After that I did no' think my cock would find a tight fit. I did no' think ye would feel it at all moving within ye."

Mortified at his easy talk of such a personal event, she lay back down and scrunched her eyes closed, trying to ignore his chuckling.

"Well?" she called out to him. He could not expect to make such a comment and then not answer the doubts it raised in her thoughts.

"Aye, Anice, 'twas snug there for me. Ye fit around me like a falconer's glove is made to fit his hand, surrounding it wi'out space between skin and leather. That tight." His voice ended on a sigh and she heard him shifting around on the floor.

It was then she noticed the wetness in the spot he spoke of, and how her breasts tingled again, aching for his touch on them. His words had stirred her to arousal just as he told her they could and now she lay, alone in her bed, trying to ignore the throbbing that built within her core.

"Do you think that two times might lessen my fears, Rob?"

"Two times? What do ye mean?" He sat up now as she did and gazed at her across the flame-lit room.

"You said yourself that it would take more than one time at this to lessen my fears. Mayhap we should try the second time here on the bed instead of there on the floor?"

Robert was at her side in a second, but he slowed himself as he got closer. She smiled; he was ever mindful of not frightening her. He stopped a step from the bed and waited for her signal. She slid back in the bed and lifted the covers. He held her gaze as he loosened the plaid still at his waist and let it drop to the floor. It was too tempting for her to ignore and, by his wicked smile, he knew what she would do. She moved her gaze down him to that part of him and watched as surged in size before her eyes. Breathless, she looked back his face.

"As ye wish, wife." He leaned forward and slid into the bed with her. And it was as she wished it would be.

They drove each other to distraction and exhaustion as she became accustomed to his body and the ways in which they could join. 'Twas quite easy, she discovered, to arouse her husband. With just a look or a glance at his groin or the slide of her tongue on her lips, she could draw that groan from him. He played the same game and she often found him waiting in dark corners for her approach. Her joy at being able to take pleasure from their joining and all that came before and after overtook her life and she found laughter once again filled her.

Robert also helped her to discover the darker fears, the embraces and touches that she could not abide. He knew never to embrace her too tightly or hold her hands behind her and that even the feel of his hand resting on her head brought on the shuddering terror. Even though the remnants of Sandy's depravity still existed within her, Robert's gentle touches and concern were helping her to lessen its importance in their life.

Each night he stayed longer in her bed, until he slept by her side the whole night through just a fortnight after their first time. She would come awake in a fright sometimes, but now the feel of him at her back soothed the fears for her.

The clan noticed the change in their relationship, as did Struan. Although he never commented on it, she caught him smiling at their antics from time to time. The smile would always turn quickly to sadness and Anice was tempted to speak to him about it. He would wave her off whenever she tried to talk with him alone about any matter.

Life was changing for her into something that she had longed for. She loved Robert—she knew that each time she looked at him or thought about him—and she thanked the Almighty every morning and night in her prayers for ever bringing him to her. She was practical enough to recognize that he did not love her back, but that was fine. He had given her his protection and she would make sure he never regretted his bargain with her.

The call came to her at the worst possible time. As she struggled through another contraction and her bairn forced its way into life, the wisdom pulled her to it.

"Firtha, help me stand," she called out to her sister-by-marriage. "I must get to the hearth."

"Moira, yer bairn comes. 'Tis no' the time to walk now."

"Pol!" she screamed. Waiting a moment more, she called to her husband again and louder this time. Pol stood at the doorway, looking pale and uneasy, as every man did in a birthing room. "I must get to the flames."

"She is delirious, Pol. Leave her and I will see to her."

But thankfully Pol knew the importance of what she needed to do and came to her side. Lifting her in his huge arms, he carried her over to the hearth and helped her to kneel before it. Waiting until she had her balance, he did not leave her until she nodded that she was ready. Then, taking hold of Firtha's arm, he pulled her from the room over her very loud objections.

She tried to take in the deep cleansing breath she needed, but the pain from her womb grew until she wanted to scream. Curling her body over, she waited for it to pass and hoped there was time before another began. Her daughter was impatient to be born. However, she knew from the strength of the call that the wisdom would not be ignored. The pain lessened and she stared into the flames and waited.

The visions came upon her with the same force as her labor and she watched the flames as she saw the colors and faces and scenes appear. She tried to discern the message within the wisdom as she observed them before her. Just as they began to fade, a much more powerful contraction struck her and she fell to her side.

"Pol!" she screamed.

Her husband raced in to help her and Firtha followed him into the room. He must have explained how the wisdom worked, for she was much calmer now. But Moira knew she did not have much time. The message must be delivered before it was too late.

"I must see Struan. Please call him here."

"Moira, ye are about to give birth. Surely ye can speak to the laird after that?" Firtha tried to convince her.

"It must be now, Pol. If ye dinna get him for me, I will walk there myself."

His smile told her he knew she could not do that, but he left the room and came back a few minutes later. "I sent a boy for the laird, Moira."

Caught up in the waves of contractions, she could only nod. She tried to do all those things she advised other expectant mothers to do during this process; however, the pressure of knowing the message must be delivered to Struan added to her pain and frustration. Finally, the laird entered their cottage and walked into the room.

"I am here, Moira."

"Struan, come closer. I must share the wisdom with ye."

"Could this no' wait until after ye give birth?"

"Dinna be foolish. The wisdom haes its own rules and its own time. 'Tis now ye must hear it."

Waving Firtha from the room once more, she grabbed Struan's arm and pulled him close.

"I warned ye about yer habit of sending yer sons away Struan, but ye did no' heed me," she whispered as another pain hit her. Gasping for breath, she pulled in nearer still. "The MacNab comes with his own solution."

Struan looked at her and shook his head. "I canna control the MacNab. I warned Robert this marriage would no' stand."

"Ye must stop trying to protect the dead, Struan. Yer promises to those who have died are no' as important as how ye treat those here now."

"Ye dinna ken, Moira." He tried to pull free from her hold but she hung on tighter.

"I do ken, Struan. I saw it. I saw it all."

She saw the horror enter his face and knew that her visions had been true. Although she could not condone what he had done, 'twas not her place to judge him in the matter. She simply knew she had to convince him to change his mind.

"Ye refuse him because of the promises ye made to Glynnis and to Edana. They are dead and gone—and the promises with them. For the good of the clan, Struan, and for yer immortal soul, ye must release yerself from the pledges ye gave."

"But I swore... on my word, Moira. Yer a woman, ye dinna understand."

She gasped as she felt the rush of birthing waters between her legs and another contraction forced the breath from her. Still, she would not release his arm. When she could draw in a breath, she forced out the words.

"I do no' need to understand, Struan. I see, and I saw what the results would be if ye continue to ignore the wisdom. Ye are the only one who can do this."

She could no longer ignore the burning stretching happening to her. She felt the bairn move down and knew it was time. She let go of his hand and called out for Firtha. Struan stood and moved towards the door.

"Struan," she called out to him once more. "Do no' fail the clan in this."

Then with a scream of her own, she pushed the bairn out and into Firtha's waiting hands. Her daughter was born. A dark sense of foreboding came over her, whether due to the birth or what she knew was about to happen, she did not know. She only knew that dark days were coming for some in Dunnedin.