Epilogue

"They're here!" Florie squealed from the door.

Annella straightened from placing the pillows on the bed and peered around the new bedchamber, looking for anything missing

or out of place. Everything looked good to her though.

‘'Tis perfect," her maid assured her with a smile. "The old laird will love it."

"I hope so," Annella said, rubbing her belly soothingly.

"Is the bairn kickin' ye?" Florie asked with concern as Annella walked over to join her by the door.

"The lad's just a little active today," she told her as she turned to survey the bedchamber one last time.

"Are ye callin' me daughter a lad again?" Graeme demanded, stepping up behind them and peering over their heads at the room

beyond.

"'Tis a boy," Annella assured him. "A rambunctious little lad who will grow up to look just like his big, handsome da."

"Nay. 'Tis a little baby girl with a temper and beauty to match her mother's," he countered.

They grinned at each other, neither serious about the argument. They would be happy with whatever God chose to grace them

with, whether a boy or girl.

Graeme kissed her forehead and then peered past her at the room again. "Father will like it." Smiling wryly, he added, "He'll

especially like that he'll no' ha'e to be carried down from above stairs if he wishes to join us fer sup, or just fer company."

"Aye," Annella murmured with a faint smile. This room had been her mother's idea. Annabel MacKay had been quite fascinated

by Gaufrid Gunn's issues with talking since his fall. While she'd agreed there was nothing to do about his being paralyzed,

she had thought they might help him regain his speech. Her mother had begun to work with him while they were visiting, a visit

that had lasted longer than intended while they'd waited for Payton to heal from his wound. Lady Annabel had made Annella's

father-in-law perform strange exercises in the effort, such as blowing a horn, wagging his tongue up and down and biting into

an apple or pear over and over again.

Annella had watched her mother working with him one day and hadn't understood why she was having him do these things. She certainly hadn't considered that they might do anything to help him. But by the time her parents were ready to leave, Gaufrid was able to make sounds that weren't quite speech, but close to it. That had been encouraging, and Annella knew her husband and his father had been grateful when her mother had invited Gaufrid to travel to MacKay with them for a couple of months to continue working with her on his speech. The old man had been happy to go.

It was as they were breaking their fast on the morning they were leaving that her mother had leaned toward Annella and said,

"Do you not think that corner there would make a fine bedchamber?"

Annella had peered at the spot, and then looked at her with bewilderment. "A bedchamber? In the great hall?"

"Aye." Her mother had smiled. "Think on it. 'Twould only take two walls and a ceiling to create a room in that corner. Then

Gaufrid would not have to be carried below if he wished to join the table for sup or play chess by the fire. He would feel

less of a burden and perhaps leave his room more, which would surely make his life so much better."

Annella had glanced at the corner and imagined a room built there, with a ceiling, a door, a bed...

"And perhaps you could have a special hand cart made," her mother suggested.

"A hand cart?" she'd asked uncertainly.

"Aye. One with a high back, lower sides and a short bottom, so that Gaufrid can sit in it and have his back supported by the

high back of the wagon. Then a servant could simply lift him into the hand cart and wheel him out of his room to wherever

he wished to be rather than have to carry him around like a child."

"Oh," Annella had breathed, imagining it.

"You could even put pillows and such in it to make him more comfortable," she'd suggested.

Annella had approached Graeme about her moth er's ideas that night. He'd thought they were brilliant, and was sure they would help his father. He'd set men on both tasks in the months since their parents had left for MacKay. But Gaufrid's two or three months over the end of summer and the beginning of fall had been prolonged through the winter. Now it was almost the middle of spring and he was finally returning to them, accompanied by not just a company of soldiers for protection, but her mother and sister, who were coming for a visit. According to the message from her mother that had arrived weeks ahead of them, Gaufrid was talking again. She warned that his speech was slow and a little awkward yet, but would improve with time.

"I came to tell ye they were passin' o'er the drawbridge and we should go wait on the front steps fer them," Graeme said now.

"Aye." Annella smiled and allowed him to take her arm to escort her out into the great hall. She couldn't wait to see Gaufrid

talking again. She knew the man had been miserable since his accident. Which hadn't been an accident at all, she recalled

grimly. It was a secret she and Graeme had thought to keep from his father. Unfortunately, they'd had to tell him that Dauid

was dead, and that he'd been killed in battle after he'd attacked Graeme. For some reason, that had released the memories

trapped in Gaufrid's head, and he'd recalled Dauid pushing him down the stairs. Memories of the wedding and the weeks after

that had followed quite quickly.

"Love? Is all well?"

Annella had stopped walking and now stood completely still with her head bowed. Shock had brought her to a pause when she'd felt liquid rushing down her legs. Taking a breath, she waited another moment for the contraction that had preceded her water breaking to stop, and then said, "The bairn's decided he wants to meet his grandfather."

"Well, and sure enough he will now the old laird's back," Florie said with a faint smile. "He'll be here when ye birth the

bairn."

"Aye. Well, he's arrived right in time then," Annella said dryly. "When I said he's decided to meet his grandfather, I meant

he's decided to meet him now ."

"What?" Florie and Graeme squawked together.

"Me water just broke," Annella said patiently.

Graeme and Florie immediately looked down, as did Annella. There was nothing to see until she noticed the dark line growing

at the hem of her skirts. The material was soaking up the water puddling under her.

"Oh Lord!" Florie jerked up her skirt in an attempt to keep it from getting any wetter, and then Graeme scooped her up and

carried her into his father's new chamber.

"What are ye doing?" Annella asked with dismay.

"Puttin' ye in a bed," he said as if that should be obvious. "Ye're havin' our bairn."

"Aye, but no' yer da's bed," Annella protested.

"Actually, I think that is perfect. That way he can meet your child ere you and the bairn are both moved above stairs," Annabel MacKay said lightly, bustling into the room. Glancing over her shoulder, she added, "Inan, wheel Gaufrid over to the table. He shall have to wait to see his room properly."

"Nay!" Annella squawked, climbing off the bed the moment her husband set her down. "He should see it now. We have been waitin'

forever to show him. Hello, father Gunn," she called happily.

Determined to greet him properly, Annella started forward, only to stop after one step when the next contraction hit. Gasping,

she whirled away and bent to brace herself on the bed, hands clenching on the furs there as she waited out the pain. She could

feel the concern pouring off of Graeme as he immediately stepped to her side. Grasping her arm with one hand, he began to

rub her back with the other.

"How long ago was the last pain?" her mother asked, rushing across the room to join them.

It was Graeme who answered. "As long ago as it took me to carry her in here."

"Aye. No' long at all," Florie added with worry.

Lady MacKay turned to Annella again. "How long have you been having the pains?"

"Since last night," she gasped.

"What?" Graeme squawked by her ear. "Why did ye no' wake me?"

"Because there was no use the two o' us being awakened every hour, then half hour, when the pains came," she growled with

irritation. "They were far enough apart, I kenned it would be at least morning ere the bairn came."

"'Tis nearly the sup, no' morning," Graeme pointed out, sounding more worried.

"Nay! Really?" Annella snapped sarcastically.

"Would you like to get up on the bed now, dear?" her mother asked.

Annella glanced around in time to see her mother patting Graeme's arm soothingly. Presumably to make up for her being short

with her husband. For some reason that annoyed her.

"Nella?" her mother prodded. "Shall we get up on the bed now?"

"Nay," Annella growled. " We shall not. I like it right here."

"Should ye no'—What are ye doin'?" Graeme interrupted himself to ask, his voice about as shocked as Annella had ever heard

it.

"I am squatting, husband," she snarled. "Me body wants to squat."

"Well, yer body can squat on the bed," Graeme insisted testily, trying to urge her upright. "Ye're no' relievin' yerself in

the woods, ye're having our bairn, and ye'll drop her on the rush mats do ye no'—Lady Annabel! What the devil are ye doin'?"

Annella glanced around at that question to see her mother on her knees beside her, trying to look under her skirts.

"I am trying to see how far along she is," Lady MacKay explained.

"Do ye no' think it would be better did we get her abed first?" he demanded, beginning to sound more than a little stressed.

Turning to Annella he said, "Ye really would feel better abed, wife. Just let me—"

"Touch me and I shall twist yer ballocks and squeeze verra hard, husband," Annella snarled.

"She does not mean that, Graeme. She is simply in a lot of pain at the moment."

Her mother's voice sounded odd and Annella gave up glowering at her husband to look around for her. The woman had given up

kneeling beside her in favor of lying on her back and shimmying between her legs under her gown to get the view needed to

assess the situation. Fortunately, while Annella was trying to squat quite fully, her husband's hold on her arm was keeping

her up far enough that there was room for her mother to slip beneath her.

"Oh dear" was her assessment.

"What does ‘oh dear' mean?" Graeme asked with alarm as Lady Annabel slid back out from under Annella and got to her feet.

"Oh, 'tis nothing to worry about," Lady Annabel said, managing to sound anxious, excited and soothing all at once as she grabbed

a fur off the bed and set it on the floor just behind Annella. "'Tis fine. You should probably go fetch some uisge beatha

to toast the baby's arrival with yer father. And quickly."

"I am no' going anywhere until I get me wife in the bed," he growled with frustration.

When he reached for her then, Annella barked, "Touch me and I'll hurt ye, husband."

"She does no' mean that," Lady Annabel assured him.

"Aye, she does," Graeme said dryly, and then shook his head and actually smiled at Annella as he knelt next to her and added,

"And 'tis one o' the reasons that I love her."

Annella's glare died at that, her expression briefly softening.

Graeme started to lean in to kiss her then, but that's when her next contraction decided to strike. Distracted as she'd briefly been, Annella was caught by surprise and couldn't stop the scream the shock and pain brought from deep in her lungs. Her husband jerked back at once, fear and horror fighting on his face, but she didn't care.

"Pick her up and set her on the fur, Graeme, so I have room to work and the bairn has a soft landing if I do no' catch him."

"Catch her?" Graeme snapped with outrage. "'Tis our bairn, no' a ball. She needs to be abed!"

"Move her! Now!" Lady Annabel roared.

If it weren't for the fact that she was in a great deal of pain, Annella would have laughed at her husband's shock and the

speed with which he obeyed the order. It was always amusing to see men brought to heel by her petite mother.

Graeme not only gave up trying to get her on the bed and moved her backward onto the fur, he also set her down with her side

to the bed so that her mother had room to kneel in front of her. He then squatted behind Annella, his knees on either side

of her. Annella grabbed at them to maintain her balance as she felt another contraction coming on.

"Thank you, son," her mother said almost apologetically as she knelt before Annella. "Now, if you will just help by holding

her skirts up for me—Oh my," her mother breathed when Graeme did as requested, allowing her to take in the situation.

"Oh my what?" Graeme asked with concern.

"Nothing. All is well," she assured him soothingly, and then told Annella, "I want you to push with the next contraction, dear. As hard as you can, I think—"

Annella wasn't sure if her mother said anything else or not. If she did, Annella couldn't hear it over her own scream as the

next contraction hit. The strength and pain level of the contractions had grown with every passing hour, and the last had

been bad, but none could compare to this one. This time the pain was excruciating. It felt like she was being torn apart and

seemed to go on forever. Despite that, or perhaps because of it, Annella bore down and pushed as hard as she could. Just when

she began to feel she couldn't bear it another moment, the pain abruptly ended, or at least was reduced to a mild throbbing

in comparison. She only understood the sudden reduction in pain was because she'd managed to push out the bairn when her mother

cried happily, "'Tis a boy!"

Breathing out with relief, Annella sagged back against her husband.

"'Tis a boy," Graeme said with wonder as her mother finished cutting the cord connecting the bairn to her and held him up

for them to see.

Annella opened eyes she hadn't realized she'd let close and smiled faintly at the angry, red squalling infant her mother was

even now wrapping clean linen around. Feeling oddly elated... and exhausted all at the same time, she said lightly, "I

told ye it would be."

"Aye, ye did," he agreed. "Ye were right."

"I'm always right, husband, and ye would do well to remember that," she teased.

"As if ye'd let me," Graeme said with amusement, and then his expression turning solemn, he murmured, "Thank ye for me son, and thank ye fer bein' me wife. I love ye, Annella."

"I love you too," she assured him just as solemnly.

He leaned down to kiss her gently, and then pulled back to whisper, "Now can I put ye on the bed?"

Annella raised her eyebrows. "And then what? Shall I sleep down here with yer da from now on, or were ye plannin' on all three

o' us sharing his new bed?"

"Take her up to your room, Graeme," her mother suggested with amusement before he could respond. "I shall clean up my new

grandbaby and take him out for your father to see, then follow you up to tend to Annella."

Relaxing, Graeme nodded, then shifted out from behind Annella, stood and scooped her up into his arms. Carrying her toward

the door, he commented, "Have I mentioned ye're a sassy, bossy wench?"

"Aye, and ye love it," she answered around a yawn.

"Aye. I do," Graeme agreed as they reached the door. Pausing then, he kissed her gently on the forehead and said, "'Tis why

I was hopin' fer a little girl just as beautiful and bossy as her mother. We shall jest ha'e to hope that next time the bairn

is—"

"Next time!" Annella squawked with horror. "If ye think I'm lettin' ye anywhere near me after what I jest went through, ye

ha'e another think comin', husband."

"She does not mean that, Graeme," Lady Annabel called out lightly.

"Aye, I do," Annella insisted on a growl.

"Nay, ye do no'," Graeme said solemnly and kissed her softly on the lips. It was gentle and so full of love that Annella felt

her heart flutter.

When he ended the kiss and lifted his head, she smiled, and marveled at how her life had changed. Graeme's arrival had, for Annella, changed Gunn from a lonely, miserable prison to a happy home full of joy and hope for the future. Thank God her highlander had returned.