“Wheest!” she said, pulling him away from the door. “She wants to tell Richard herself.”
“Aeschene is with child,” he repeated. Relief washed over him as he let out a quick breath.
“Be quiet,” she said, admonishing him again. “Really, Rory, ye are behaving like an arse and I dunnae understand why.”
A low laugh bubbled up from the pit of his stomach and for the life of him, he couldn’t contain his laughter. “Och! Lass, please forgive me!”
“Forgive ye for what?”
“Mable and Loreen said ye had gone to see the midwife. I thought ’twas ye who was with child.”
Marisse didn’t find it nearly as amusing as Rory did. Fury ignited in her pretty green eyes as she watched him laughing his foolish head off.
She didn’t see Richard and Lachlan heading down the hall. All she could see was Rory, with his head thrown back, enjoying a grand belly laugh. He’d insulted her by assuming ’twas she who was with child. And then, when he realized the folly of his assumption, he laughed with relief. Relief. As if he had anything to say about what she did or didn’t do or with whom she did or didn’t do it with.
Unable to control the rage building up, she pulled her hand into a fist, drew back, and let him have it. Right on that square jaw of his.
“To the devil with ye, Rory MacCullough! To the devil with ye!”
“What the bloody hell was that for?” he asked in utter disbelief.
Marisse ignored the question, spun on her heels and returned to Aeschene’s chamber.
Lachlan and Richard helped the poor sod to his feet.
“I’d say ye angered the lass,” Richard said.
Rory shook out the cobwebs from his head. “But how?”
“Well, ye did assume she was with child,” Lachlan said. “Ye disparaged her reputation.”
His face burned red with humiliation and anger. Stammering, he fought to find the appropriate words.
Richard slapped him on the back and chuckled. “I must admit I feel better knowing she is protecting my wife. The lass can hit, aye?”
Rory rubbed his jaw. “She caught me off guard,” he argued. “Had I known she was going to hit me —”
“Never underestimate the anger of a woman, Rory,” Richard told him. “Else ye will find yerself knocked on yer arse again. My advice is to mind yer tongue and never make assumptions.”
Rory thought long and hard before his lips curved into a wry smile. “I am goin’ to marry that lass, someday, mark my words.”
Richard and Lachlan broke into a fit of laughter. “I wager she will hit him again before that happens,” Richard said.
“Nay,” Lachlan said. “I wager she’ll hit him more than once.”
Richard was met with several angry women when he entered his bedchamber. Even his sweet wife looked murderous. The blue eyes he could stare into for hours, were naught but slits as she sat in front of the fire.
“Is that Rory?” she asked angrily as she jumped to her feet.
“Nay, lass, ’tis me, Richard,” he replied as he beamed a bright smile.
“He owes Marisse and apology,” she said, pulling her shoulders back. “And I want to beat him senseless.”
The other women chimed in, all voicing their opinions on the matter. Richard ignored them, unable to pull his gaze from his beautiful wife. Slowly, he walked toward her and took her hands into his, all the while, she was telling him just what she thought of Rory MacCullough.
Sweetly, he pressed a kiss to her fingers. “Lass, how was it Rory came to believe Marisse was with child?”
“I dunnae ken!” she exclaimed. “Marisse went to get the midwife for me. He must have seen her and assumed -rather incorrectly I might add - that Marisse was with child. I swear, Richard, the man is as smart as a rock.”
Smiling devilishly, he kissed the palms of her hands. “And why did ye send for the midwife? Is aught amiss?”
“Of course not,” she told him, her tone sharp. She was still quite angry with Rory. “All is well.”
It wasn’t until he chuckled and kissed her cheek that she realized her plan to tell him had been foiled. Tears welled in her eyes. “Oh, Richard! This is not going as I had planned! We were going to sup, here in our room, and I would tell ye then.”
“Tell me now,” he said, his voice soft and low.
“Ye already know,” she said sadly, her gaze turning to the floor.
“But I want to hear ye tell me,” he said as he gently lifted her chin and pressed a sweet kiss to her lips.
She swallowed hard. “I am with child.”
He lifted her up and spun her around until she was dizzy. “Lass! Ye have made me the happiest of men!”
Her smile could light the darkest of nights. Unable to resist, he kissed her again.
“When? When will the babe be here?”
Mrs. MacCallen stepped forward looking quite pleased. “I would say nae long after the new year, laird. She is about four months along now.”
Turning back to his wife, he said, “I cannae think of a better way to start the new year.”
As soon as they discovered Aeschene was with child, Richard sent missives to their king, David II. He could imagine the wry smile of victory on David’s face when he read the news. While their marriage was successful, there was still the matter of the border troubles with the Farquars. He let David know that if he couldn’t get the Farquars under control, a war would start.
With Marisse’s help, a letter was also sent to Aeschene’s family, although he seriously doubted anyone but her mother would celebrate in the joyous news.
The following day, Richard received a missive from Caelen McDunnah, chief of clan McDunnah. He sat in his study, reading the letter aloud to Lachlan and Rory.
“I fear there is a storm brewing and we must gather together against it.”
“There is always a storm brewing,” Lachlan quipped. He sat with his long legs outstretched, his palms on his stomach.
“Another call for the clans to unite,” Rory added.
“I had thought the same until I read further,” Richard told them, turning back to the missive. “I fear if we do not act soon, Scotia as we now know it will cease to exist.” While vague, the underlying current was one he couldn’t ignore. “He has invited us to meet next month at his keep. The MacDougalls, Mackintoshes, Grahams, and Mactavishes will be there as well.” He slid the missive across his desk to Lachlan for his own perusal.
“What do ye suppose he means?” Rory asked.
Richard shook his head and held his palms out. “I am uncertain. But Caelen McDunnah is nae one to listen to gossip or rumors, that much I can tell ye.”
“I have never met him,” Rory said.
“I have,” Lachlan said as he placed the parchment on the desk. “Richard is right. The McDunnah tends to keep himself to himself, even if he is a bloody bastard.”
Rory chuckled. “I have heard the stories,” he said. “Are they true?”
“That the McDunnah is more than a wee bit tetched?” Lachlan said, tapping his temple with his index finger.
Richard laughed. “Aye, the stories be true. He is a ruthless man when necessary. There was a time in his life when he would start a fight just for the sake of fighting.”