Samantha James (20 page)

“Aye. And why shouldn’t he be? He has lands and a keep, and an heir on the way.”

“He is not the only one to win here, lass.”

“I know.” Glenda’s voice was very small. The tears that were still perilously close to the surface threatened to reappear. “I-I just pray this babe will be healthy and whole…”

As the other was not
. But she could not say it aloud.

Nessa’s arms came around her. “And we will see that it is. I’ve never borne a bairn meself, but I’ve brought many into this world and seen many a woman through it.”

Glenda clung to her, then drew back with a sheepish smile.

“Nessa?”

“Aye, lass?” Busy stirring the fire, Nessa glanced back over her shoulder.

“Why did you never have children?”

“Mayhap because I’ve never had a husband!”

Glenda studied her quietly. She knew that Nessa had been born on Blackstone, and to her knowledge, had never left. Though Nessa’s hair was sparse and gray as storm clouds, her limbs brittle with age, her skin lined with myriad wrinkles, Glenda imagined what her old nursemaid might have looked like when she was of an age with herself, with hair shiny and dark as the wings of a raven. Nor had Nessa always been crippled with the ague that nearly bent her double now. Glenda recalled the days of her own childhood, when Nessa had been stout and strong, her legs straight as the beech trees that grew near the river. Indeed, Nessa must have been quite fetching.

She waited until the old woman had turned and set aside the poker. “You told me you were in love once,” she reminded her quietly, “before I was born.”

For an instant, Nessa said nothing. She felt herself
hurtled far back in time, to the days when she had been as young and slim as the beauty before her. Aye, she had loved once…loved a man far beyond her reach…yet ever within reach. With a faint smile, she gazed into her charge’s eyes, eyes that were so like another…

“Aye,” Nessa admitted slowly, “but we could not be together.”

“Why not?”

Something wistful—something that might have been regret—sped across the old woman’s face. Yet in the very next heartbeat, she said simply, “He married another.”

And somehow Glenda knew…it was not so simple at all.

“Now”—gnarled fingers drew the covers up to Glenda’s breast“—rest and do not worry, lass. Whatever troubles ye have, they will soon pass.”

Glenda smiled slightly. A pang bit deep. As much as she loved Nessa, she couldn’t help but wish that small comfort had come from another…

But Egan did not come to her that night. Nor in the days that followed.

Oh, he inquired daily as to her health, but he made no attempt to renew their intimacy. All along Glenda had told herself it wasn’t really her that Egan wanted—it was her home, her lands. Indeed, he’d made no secret of it.

She didn’t want to believe it.

His body had not lied. The tempest of passion that lit their nights to a raging conflagration had not lied. Yet now, when his eyes, so breathtakingly blue, chanced to rest upon her, they were as chill as the
mists that clung to the loftiest peaks of the Highlands.

She lay alone in her bed at night, thinking of him, remembering that wondrous day in the orchard when the colors had been so vivid and bright; when happiness washed over her in waves of mellow yellow, and passion was the flame of a fiery crimson blossom.

Yet now the bleakness in her was the gray of a wintry, leaden sky. And despair was an endless black, the color of her heart.

The closeness—the tenderness—was glaringly absent. If he was distant and indifferent, needled a niggling little voice, could she blame him? It was through her own folly that it had come to this; she’d been stung by her own shame, stung by his pride.

She’d thought she could hold herself aloof—what a fool she was! Her mind was filled with bitter self-disparagement.

He wanted his child…but it seemed he no longer wanted her! Indeed, how could he desire her now? ’Twas as if, now that he’d been discovered, the babe within had finally decided to show the world of his presence. Her belly began to mound, hard and firm.

She’d been so convinced a part of her had died along with that first babe, with Niall’s son…

And then she felt the life within her quicken. The merest flutter…

She was alone when it first happened. With a gasp she pressed a hand to her middle, wanting it to happen again…willing it! And it did, like the wings of a butterfly tucked within her womb. Her mind sped straight to Egan. She wanted to press his hands to
her belly that he might feel, too. She longed to share it with him, and hurried to the hall to find him.

It was Jeannine who told her he had ridden out and wouldn’t be back until nightfall.

Her steps slowed. The moment was gone. She shut herself away in her chamber and wept in fear and frustration, her misery crowding her chest until she could scarcely breathe.

Yet by morn she was filled with fresh resolve. She could not give up. Her child needed her. This babe was alive…and she would fight to keep it so.

Autumn brought brilliant hues of gold and russet to the Borderlands. In the garden, the flowers lost the blush of summer; vines withered and grew yellow, twisting limply across the ground. The air began to chill and carried with it the promise of a long, hard winter.

In deference to her condition, Glenda had taken to walking, both within the walls of the keep and without. Today, however, she stood atop the wall-walk, shivering a little beneath her mantle. Far below, she saw Egan striding across the bailey. He stopped short, shielding his eyes and looking up at her. She could have sworn he glowered, but she paid no heed. Very soon day would give way to night, and she had already spent much of the day indoors; she and Jeannine had spent the afternoon sewing window cushions to guard against the cold in the coming months. But she was not yet ready to go inside, despite Egan’s disapproval.

The clouds hung low, spread out like giant wings, nearly black as soot. A flutter of snow drifted from
the sky, and she sighed, knowing that soon she would have to go in.

She’d noticed earlier the small black dot that punctuated the far distance. Her idle gaze caught it anew, and she realized that it was a horse and rider—and they were fast approaching. Curious, she stayed where she was, though far below, she heard Egan hail her.

“Glenda! Come down! ’Tis far too cold for you there!”

“Wait!” she called down, then pointed in the distance toward the rider.

Just then the sentry in the tower caught sight of the horse as well. “Someone comes!” he shouted.

By the time she descended to the bailey, the horse, a huge black beast as big as Egan’s, cantered through the gatehouse.

Her gaze sharpened. The man turned his head then. The folds of his plaid parted, and a small head with hair of ebony popped out.

Her eyes widened. “Mary, mother of God,” she breathed. “It’s Cameron and Brodie!”

Glenda tore across the uneven ground as fast as she was able. Cameron enveloped her in a massive hug. “Glenda! Lord, ’tis good to see you!”

Glenda blinked back tears, a tremulous smile on her lips. “And you, Cameron, and you.” She clung to his hands, amazed and disbelieving.

Egan looked on as his wife smiled with unabashed joy up at the man with hair as dark as midnight and eyes of crystalline gray, aware of an odd sting in the middle of his chest. If he had been the one returned from afar, would his wife’s greeting have been so warm?

Ah, but no doubt she would have rejoiced had he never returned!

Brodie had decided he’d been neglected long enough. Egan had lifted him from atop Fortune, Cameron’s steed. Now he tugged upon Glenda’s skirt, gazing up at her mutely.

Glenda bent and would have lifted him, but suddenly Egan was there, sweeping the lad from the ground and placing him in her arms. Impish blue eyes glowed happily. The boy framed her face with
chubby palms and gave her a wet, sloppy kiss.

“I missed you!”

Glenda’s heart melted. “And I missed you, too, Brodie!” She hugged him, then drew back. “I didn’t think you would even remember me!”

“Of course he did. He’s as clever as his father!”

Naturally the claim came from his father. Glenda wrinkled her nose at him. “I happen to hold a different opinion. I think he’s as clever as his mother!”

“So I’ve lost favor already, have I?”

Glenda laughed and lowered Brodie to the ground. When she straightened, Cameron was busy looking her up and down.

“Good lord, woman, what happened to you?”

Egan’s gaze sharpened. Was it his imagination, or did her smile falter?

Cameron clapped a hand on Egan’s broad shoulders. “You waste no time, do you, man?”

Egan felt the tightness in his muscles ease. He cocked a brow. “I could say the same of you,” he said easily, reminded how quickly Meredith had gotten with child. Only with Cameron and Meredith, the babe had been well on the way before the wedding ever took place. “That reminds me…where is your wife?”

“Alas, she sends her regrets that she could not come as well. Nor, I fear, would Aileen ever be still long enough to make so long a trip on horseback or even in a cart.”

“Aileen!” Glenda echoed eagerly. “How is the babe?”

“Hardly a babe any longer, and grown so that I vow you’d never know her.” He pretended to pull a
face. “It does no good to swaddle her. She’s just begun to crawl and seems to feel it her duty to know every inch of Dunthorpe—and all at once!”

Glenda’s smile held a trace of wistfulness. “Ah, but I wish they had come with you!”

Cameron nodded. “I know you do, lass.” He paused, then added mildly, “But, as I’m certain you know, travel is not always wise for women with your particular affliction.”

As Glenda’s eyes widened, a grin played about the corners of his handsome mouth. His gaze dropped meaningfully to the swell of her belly. Cameron chuckled as Egan’s brows shot high in a show of surprise. Glenda’s response was not so subtle.

“You cannot mean to say that Meredith is with child again!”

“I can and do.”

“Another babe—so soon after Aileen?” Meredith was aghast. “Why, the poor woman will have no rest!”

His grin was utterly wicked…utterly Cameron. “What can I say?” he murmured. “The nights are long in the Highlands.”

“The nights are long everywhere!”

Cameron chuckled. “So I see, lass. So I see.”

Glenda blushed fiercely. Her eyes strayed helplessly to Egan, only to discover that a trace of color had crept beneath his skin as well.

Cameron’s grin widened. “And methinks my wife will be immensely pleased when she learns
your
news as well!”

Glenda couldn’t help it. She could hardly chastise the man for loving his wife, could she? Her mouth
twitched with an answering smile. Even the lines around Egan’s mouth had softened.

There was much boisterous laughter that evening while they dined. Cameron got to his feet when Nessa shuffled into the hall—it mattered not that she was a servant. Cameron recognized her not only as his elder, but as one who carried an air of wisdom sought by many and attained by few. When the old woman stopped and fixed her eyes on the newcomer, Glenda started to make the introductions.

Nessa stopped her. Boldly she assessed the visitor, though she had to tip her head far back in order to see his face, the same way she did with Egan.

“I remember ye,” she stated flatly. “Ye’re Cameron, the one with eyes of steel. Now sit, lad. Ye’re makin’ me back ache, standin’ so tall.”

Glenda smothered a laugh. Cameron blinked and muttered, “Aye,” clearly taken aback by Nessa’s candidness as Egan had never been.

Brodie ate stoutly, moving from his father’s lap, to Egan’s, to Glenda’s. Invigorated by the meal as well as the attention lavished upon him by all, young Brodie lost his shyness among the strangers and proved himself quite the jester. Before long he slid from Cameron’s lap to walk before the fire roaring in the hearth, back and forth, back and forth.

Cameron suddenly noticed that nearly every eye in the hall had fastened on his son. He stopped what he was saying and frowned over at him.

“Brodie, what are you doing?”

“Look, Papa! I can walk like you!”

With strides as long as his little legs would allow, the boy strutted back and forth with his small chest
puffed out, his chin hitched high and sturdy shoulders jutting forward, first one and then the other in an exaggerated swagger.

Everyone roared.

Cameron sputtered. “Why do you laugh? I do not walk like that!”

“Oh, but you do.” Egan couldn’t hide his amusement.

Cameron scowled. “Brodie, come here, lad!”

Blue eyes sparkled. A dimple flashed. “I’m going to hide. Come find me, Papa!” He dived beneath the table.

Cameron groaned. “Brodie, no! Come here!”

“I begin to see why Meredith did not come with you,” Egan said dryly. “She sought some much needed rest.”

Before long, Brodie clambered up onto Egan’s lap. He sat facing Egan, tipping his small head first to one side, then the other, peering at Egan until all three adults watched him curiously.

“Egan?”

“Aye, lad?” The boy’s tone was earnest; it accorded Egan’s undivided attention.

“When I am a man, will I have thistles on my face like you?” He leaned forward and rubbed his palms against the dark stubble on Egan’s cheeks and jaw.

Egan’s expression was such that now it was Cameron who availed himself of a long, mirthful laugh.

It was late when Glenda pushed herself back from the table. Brodie had fallen asleep on the bench beside his father. Most of the others had retired as well. Egan started to rise, but she stopped him with a word.

“Nay,” she said. “Stay and talk.”

Indeed, Egan thought darkly, why shouldn’t he stay? It was not as if the two of them would be sleeping together!

Glenda smiled at Cameron, her expression fondly tender as it moved from him to Brodie. “I’ll take Brodie and put him to bed in my chamber. You can fetch him later.”

Cameron nodded and wished her good-night. A maid was summoned to carry the slumbering child up the stairs to the tower.

Egan’s gaze never left her as she bent to kiss Cameron’s cheek. Lean fingers tightened ever so slightly on his cup. An odd feeling knotted his insides. She had not been sickly, thank the Lord. There was a lush luminescence to her hair, her lips and skin. Whether she wanted it or no, carrying this child suited her. Looking at her now with Cameron, he could almost feel that velvet caress against his own heated skin…

A rending ache cut through him. Christ, but it had been so long! A slow burn simmered in his veins, of desire or jealousy, he knew not! A part of him envied Cameron, for her smile had scarcely left her this night. He felt…cheated. It rankled, the readiness of her laughter, their teasing banter and the ease in which it was traded.

It was not like that when they supped together. The tension hung between them, as thick as roiling storm clouds.

His disquiet ripened—his uncertainty along with it. Seeing Cameron again…did she think of Niall? In truth, there was something of Niall in Cameron’s profile, the blade of his nose, the patrician shape of
his brow…the deep resonance of his voice.

Did Glenda see it? Did she hear it, too? Was she reminded of the love they had shared—and lost? Did she mourn anew? Fervently wish that the babe inside her was Niall’s and not his?

Guilt slipped over him, a shroud of midnight. He’d claimed his friend’s wife. As Glenda’s husband, he now owned her lands and her home. Jesu, he was no better than Simon!

He’d gone a little mad the day he’d realized she was with child. He’d been so angry that she hadn’t told him—so jealous of Niall…of the man who had once been her husband.

Bleakly he wondered what it must be like for her. Bound to one man…still loving another.

One who was gone to her forever.

He was abruptly angry with himself. Ashamed. So very ashamed. It was good to see Cameron again, yet dread coiled heavy on his breast. The fact that it
was
Cameron only made it all the more difficult. He felt vulnerable and naked as never before.

It was not a feeling he liked. He couldn’t remember a time when he’d felt so awkward. Their friendship was such that they had an almost uncanny awareness of each other’s thoughts.

He glanced across the table at Cameron, lifting his tankard to his lips. “I hope the fact that I didn’t return posed no hardship for you.”

“Nay, of course not. When you left Dunthorpe, I asked that you take care of Glenda.” There was a pause. “What I never expected was that you would marry her!”

Egan nearly choked on a mouthful of ale. So much for guarding his feelings!

“But you must tell me of things. The letters you wrote left much to be desired.”

That was something Egan did not doubt. He was afraid to say too much, just as afraid to reveal too little. That was why he hadn’t written to say he and Glenda expected a child.

With much trepidation, he met Cameron’s eyes. His friend’s gaze was steady on his face. Little by little, the rigidness seeped from his limbs. Grimacing, he told Cameron of all that had transpired.

When he’d finished, Cameron leaned back. “What of the raids?”

“There have been none of late,” Egan said slowly, “yet I am reluctant to be complacent. It seems there have been other times when there was no sign of the raiders for many weeks—then, just when all began to feel safe, they returned anew. ’Tis not something so easily forgotten, and I know there are still some who remain uneasy.”

“And this man, Simon Ruthven?”

Simon the Lawless
. “He was angry when I announced I would wed Glenda. Yet he was present at the ceremony, and displayed no rancor. In truth, since that time I’ve seen little of him,” he admitted. “I’ve heard tales of his temper and his treatment of others, but I’ve yet to witness it myself.”

“Mayhap he’s tamed his ways.”

“Mayhap,” Egan allowed. “He has given me no reason to distrust him, yet neither do I trust him.” He mulled for a moment. “Maybe the raiders have simply moved on.”

“Let us hope so.” Cameron touched the edge of his cup to Egan’s. “But methinks you are wise to remain cautious.”

Egan sipped the brew, his expression pondering. “’Tis an awesome task,” he said after a moment, “and one that I never fully appreciated until now.”

“What task is that?”

“Knowing that others look to me for guidance. Knowing that not only am I responsible for the care and safety and protection of Glenda and myself, but others as well.”

“And soon a babe, too.”

“Aye. And soon a babe.”

“You’ve shoulders broad enough to bear it.”

Egan was quiet for a moment. “What if I fail?”

“You won’t.”

If only he was as certain as Cameron. “You do not understand,” he said briefly. “I haven’t made a very good start.”

“But you have! All was in a shambles, you said. When you arrived, there were no men to guard the keep. When
I
arrived, I saw men on every tower, and unless I’m very much mistaken, men who are well trained indeed! The walls are strong and intact. The fields were clearly well tended, your household is well tended and your table plentiful.”

“Not that, Cameron.” Egan swallowed. The pitch of his voice dropped. “I mean my marriage. Glenda…sometimes I’m certain she would just as soon see me in hell.”

“Oh, I doubt that,” Cameron said cheerfully. He eyed Egan across the rim of his cup. “My old friend Egan, a husband. A father! Why, I remember the days
when I was certain no maid would ever steal your heart!” He laughed softly. “Would that Meredith could see you now!”

Egan smiled slightly. “She must have been surprised when she learned Glenda and I had wed,” he murmured.

“Surprised! She was beside herself with joy. You know how it was with her. She didn’t want Glenda to spend the rest of her days alone.”

“But what of you, Cameron?” Everything inside compelled that he speak, even as he dreaded the answer. “Were you as glad as Meredith? Or were you”—God’s teeth, he swore to himself, but this was hard!—“were you angry?”

“Angry? Why should I be angry?”

Egan hauled in a deep breath. “I married your brother’s widow.”

Something flickered across Cameron’s features, something he couldn’t decipher for once. He watched tensely as Cameron slowly lowered his tankard to the table.

His smile ebbed. He appeared very grave, almost somber.

“I know, Egan,” he said very softly. “
I know
.”

Egan looked at him. What he saw made him brace himself inside. “What do you mean?”

“I know that you didn’t marry Glenda for what she could bring you. I know that you didn’t marry her to keep her from Simon’s clutches. I know…that it’s always been her. That you’ve loved her for a long, long time.”

Even before Niall had died
.

Those words unspoken vibrated between them, tipping Egan’s world on end.

Egan felt himself pale. “How?” he whispered. “How do you know?”

Cameron gave a slight shake of his head. “When you sent word that you had wed Glenda, I felt something stir inside me—I know not how to explain it! But I didn’t know for certain,” he admitted, “until I saw you this day. Suddenly it all made sense. I remembered how, at times, when Niall and Glenda were together, you sometimes looked away…”