“This is so much more useful than how to flirt with noblemen and how to speak properly.”
He chuckled and kissed her on the nose. “I wouldn’t say the lessons on flirting were a complete waste of time.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her closer. “I like it fine when you practice your skills on me to get your way.”
A saucy half smile tugged on her lips. “Is that so?”
“Aye. It’s so.”
“Perhaps there’s another advantage to being on higher ground,” she hinted.
“And what might that be?” he asked, knowing where the conversation was going as he bent to kiss her neck. Rather than risk scaring her with an encounter similar to that night, he spread out a blanket and lay upon it so she could be in control of the situation.
It was a beautiful fall day. The leaves had changed, and there was a crispness to the air, but the sun was bright and warm. Perfect for his plans.
He was careful not to hold her too tightly or grasp her quickly. He made sure she was free the entire time. He hadn’t brought her out here to move to this step. He’d simply wanted her to feel safe outside the walls again. But the chance to make love to his wife was an unexpected gift.
He trusted her to know what she wanted, and didn’t thwart her suggestion when she offered it. His wife had spent most of her life being told what to do and how to do it. She’d been a prisoner all her life, both in her father’s home and the duke’s.
He wanted nothing more than for her to be free.
…
Mari stayed next to Cam as they entered through the gates of Dunardry after dark. She’d learned so much that day. Not only how to defend herself, but how to let go of the fear that weighed her down.
Cameron had been careful to explain that she was not invincible just because she carried a wee dirk on her waist. But if she was prepared, she’d have a chance to protect herself if the opportunity arose. She understood what he was saying. No one was safe against an enemy. Not even a war chief with a large sword and a broad back. She shook that thought away to concentrate on the other thing she’d learned.
That she was able to move on to a physical relationship with her husband without being haunted by what happened. She’d not waste a moment thinking of them again. Not when she had a hearty husband to hold her.
The way he touched her was so different from any other man, she couldn’t mistake him for an attacker. There was nothing similar that called up the terror of that night, or her horrible marriage. He claimed her, but only because she allowed it. Those other men were nothing but brutes. Not worth a thought. She’d not let them take anything from her. Especially not her peace of mind.
When she and Cam got back to the castle, everyone was bustling around and chattering despite the late hour. Something important had happened.
It was then that Mari heard a loud scream and realized the important thing was still happening.
“Kenna!” she shouted and shot off toward the stairs, followed closely by Cam.
She found Lachlan pacing outside their room, his face pale and his hair mussed from tugging it. The little dog, Brutus, kept up at his side despite his short legs.
“I thought it would be easier this time,” he said, his expression stricken. “I know what to expect—the screaming and yelling. But it’s surely no easier this time than it was with the twins.” His eyes went wide and he stopped in his tracks. “Dear God. What if it’s twins again?”
“Let’s get ye some whisky,” Cam suggested as he rested an arm on Lachlan’s shoulder.
“Nay. I can’t leave. I must stay in case she needs me.”
“I’ll go check on her and let you know how she fares,” Mari offered, and slid through the door into the chaos.
Kenna’s hair was damp, and sweat ran down her face as she sucked in quick breaths.
“Mari, thank God.” Kenna winced but reached for her to come closer.
Mari took her hand and gasped from the intensity with which her younger sister squeezed her fingers. She decided not to complain since it seemed petty in light of what Kenna was enduring.
Had Mari really thought she wanted this? Pain had been such a constant part of her life for so long—something to be avoided. But this was different. This was pain and joy mixed in a way that gave Kenna the strength of a warrior.
“You’re doing so well,” Mari assured, though her face must have betrayed her concern because Kenna gave a strained bark of laughter.
“How many women have you seen birth a babe, sister?”
“Admittedly none, but I have to say you’re doing it wonderfully because that’s how you do everything.”
Another laugh.
At least Mari was keeping her sister entertained in her time of what was clearly excruciating pain. Mari couldn’t believe her sister was even capable of laughter.
But then Mari remembered the sheer insanity that took over a person when pain reached that unbearable state. When one became lost to it and couldn’t care or focus on anything.
Kenna screamed through another pain, then slumped against the bed. “Poor Lachlan. I know he hates to hear my cries, but it’s beyond me to hold them in.”
“He looked rather pale when I arrived,” Mari admitted. She thought of what Cam had told her about being at his side. How it made them both stronger. “I wonder that it wouldn’t be better for him to be in here with you offering his strength. Surely he would feel relieved to know what is happening. From out there, he’s sure to think the worst.”
Kenna blew out a sound of agreement. “The man is banished for some reason that makes no sense to me. I surely didn’t get this way on my own. Why should I have to bear it by myself?”
Mari stood and went to the door. She wasn’t able to help her sister with her pain, but she could do something about this nonsense at least.
As soon as she opened the chamber door, four men spun to face her expectantly.
“Is the babe here? I didn’t hear crying. What’s wrong?” It seemed Lachlan’s legs wouldn’t hold him.
“No. The child hasn’t been born yet, but you have bigger hands than I do, and you can allow Kenna to squeeze them without damage. Come in.”
Lachlan blinked twice in surprise before rushing into the room.
“What are you doing?” Abagail scolded. “You can’t allow a man in the birthing room.”
“He’s not a man, he’s the father. Besides, it’s his room. It’s his wife. It’s his child. Why can’t he be here? He’s seen men mangled on the battlefield. This can’t be nearly as bad as that.”