To Marry a Scottish Laird by Lynsay Sands
"They were no competition," Garia snapped with disgust, pausing at the bedside. "Saidh is so rough ye'd be forgiven for thinking her a man, and Edith likes to think she's smart, but she's dull as dirty water. As for Murine, she could no' keep from fainting long enough to hold a conversation with the man. And they were the best o' the bunch!" She shook her head. "Nay. If no' fer you, he'd probably have proposed to me already and then I could have laughed in me mother's face. She did no' think I could win him," she added bitterly. "Well, I shall show her when ye're dead and we're wed."
"Did you push Finola down the stairs?" Joan asked, trying to change the subject to something less volatile and buy more time.
"Aye. The cow threw herself at Cam. There ye were, lying in yer sickbed and she was throwing herself at him like some tavern wench," she said with outrage. "She had to be punished." Pausing, she frowned and asked, "How did ye ken she was pushed and did no' fall?"
"You took her candleholder," Joan said quietly, easing a little more to the side away from her.
"Oh. Aye. 'Tis in me room. I shall have to put it back in hers after this," Garia decided.
"Is that when you took the hatpin from her?" Joan asked, glancing swiftly to the side and wondering if her goblet was sturdy enough to do any damage if she hit her with it.
"Aye. 'Tis a shame, that. I really liked the hatpin, but it seemed better if the pin used was someone else's, and using hers would reassure anyone who might be getting suspicious that the danger had passed. Which is what I thought happened," she added and then frowned. "I hadn't thought of the candleholder." Shrugging, she turned her full attention to Joan again. "Ye do realize ye're no' going to be able to get out o' the bed ere I stab ye?"
"Mayhap," Joan allowed. "But I can try."
Garia smiled faintly. "I really do like yer spirit, Joan. 'Tis just a shame ye never learned yer place and that ye should stay in it."
The words were barely out of her mouth before she suddenly stabbed out at her with the shears.
Rather than try to flee the bed and be stabbed in the back, Joan grabbed the bolster she'd been leaning against and brought it up to block the shears. Much to her relief, it worked and while the feather bolster suffered a messy death with feathers flying everywhere, she was unscathed.
Joan made an attempt to flee the bed then, only to have Garia grab her by the hair and drag her back. She landed on her back in the bed, saw Garia shake the bolster off the end of the shears and plunge them toward her again, and quickly grabbed her wrist with both hands. She also began to scream her head off. A sound that ended in a grunt when Garia suddenly climbed onto the bed and knelt on her chest, forcing the air out of her lungs in one painful gush.
"Ye're just making this harder on yerself, Joan," Garia ground out, trying to force the shears down toward her chest.
Joan would have told her to go to hell, but didn't have the air in her lungs to say it. Besides, all her strength was presently being sapped by trying to keep the shears out of her chest. She was failing miserably at the effort, the lack of air weakening her, and Joan was sure she was about to die when Garia suddenly collapsed onto her with a startled grunt.
Eyes wide, Joan retrieved the shears from Garia's now lax hands and then pushed her head out of the way to look past her.
"Murine," she said with surprise when she saw the woman standing there with a log from the fireplace in her hands. Jinny had prepared for a fire in case the ladies wanted one, but it was warm enough they hadn't bothered. Still, the logs had come in handy, Joan thought vaguely.
"I'm sorry," Murine said quietly, drawing her gaze again.
Joan glanced to her with surprise. "For what? You saved my life."
"Aye, but it took me so long," she said unhappily and explained, "I woke from me faint a while ago. I didn't drink the mead she dosed. I was too busy trying to cut a straight line. And then when I woke up, it took me a minute to orient meself and try to move, and before I could, I heard what she was saying, what both o' ye were saying and I was so scared. I was trying to look around fer a weapon without drawing her attention to the fact that I was awake, and--"
"Murine," Joan interrupted gently, brushing Garia's hair impatiently out of her face. "You did good. You saved me. You saved Saidh too. Garia was going to kill her as well and claim Saidh had killed me. So you saved us both."
"Oh," Murine said with surprise. "I did, didn't I?"
"Aye," Joan assured her and when the other woman let her arms drop and let the log slip to the floor, said worriedly, "Please don't faint. 'Tis hard to breathe with Garia on me and I think I need help removing her."
"Oh," Murine rushed forward at that, reaching for Garia's arm, but froze and glanced over her shoulder as the door burst open.
" 'Twas not Murine," Joan shouted quickly when Cam charged toward them with his father and her uncle on his heels.
"We ken," her father-in-law assured her as Cam hurried past Murine. The man then frowned and rushed to his wife to check on her, even as her uncle moved to Annabel.
"How did you know Garia was the one?" Joan asked with a frown as her husband dragged the woman off of her.
"She was seen picking apple cores out o' the garden and she walked the stable boy to the keep," Cam said grimly, letting Garia drop to the floor so that he could look Joan over. "Are ye hurt? Did she hurt ye?"
"Nay," Joan assured him, and then smiling, added, "Murine saved me."
He glanced around with surprise at Murine and Joan smiled at the woman, then said solemnly, "Thank you Murine."
"Oh . . ." She flushed and waved her thanks away, then promptly fainted.
"There's something wrong with the lass," Cam said with a frown.
"Aye," Joan agreed, slipping off the bed to check on her. "But I think between Aunt Annabel and myself we can sort it out and help her."
She stilled as Garia moaned behind her, and then turned to peer warily at the woman. When she remained unconscious, Joan scowled and told him, "She admitted to killing Finola and putting the hatpin in the saddle."
"Did she say what she gave the women?" her uncle asked grimly, drawing her gaze to where he still stood bent over Aunt Annabel, trying to rouse her.
"A sleeping draft," Joan said quietly. "They will sleep for a while, but should be okay."
"Thank God," Artair Sinclair muttered, straightening from Cam's mother. Scowling at Garia, he asked, "Did she say what she did to the stable boy?"
"The stable boy?" Joan asked with confusion.
"He's missing," Cam explained quietly. "He was last seen walking our horses to the keep steps. Garia was with him."
"Oh dear," Joan said on a sigh and shook her head. "Nay, she said naught about a stable boy."
"We'll find out when she wakes up," Ross said grimly and then glanced around the room at the unconscious women. "We'd best put everyone in their rooms until the effects of whatever she gave them pass."
"What'll we do with the MacCormick lass?" Laird Sinclair asked.
"I'll take her below and put a guard on her," Cam decided, bending to pick up the woman now. "I'll find some men to come help with the other ladies too," he added, heading for the door. He paused there though, and glanced back to Joan to say, "I'll be right back."
Joan nodded solemnly and watched him go. Her uncle and father-in-law were right behind him, their wives in their arms and Joan suspected she wouldn't see them again until the women woke up. They both looked terribly worried and distressed that their wives had been drugged. It did her heart good to see that. She hoped Cam loved her well enough that twenty years from now he would still care that much about her.
"Joan."
She glanced around at that whisper, and stood quickly to move to Saidh. The woman was still slumped in her chair, her eyes only half open, but she hadn't completely lost consciousness.
Joan dropped to her haunches beside her and took her hand as she offered her a smile. " 'Tis all right. 'Tis just a sleeping tincture. You'll sleep for a bit, but that's all."
"For what?"
"Could no' help ye," Saidh muttered wearily.
"Oh," Joan patted her hand. " 'Tis all right. Murine saved the day for both of us."
"Aye." She could not tell if the expression that flickered across Saidh's face then was more surprise or respect for the other woman.
"Rest," Joan suggested. "We'll talk when you wake up."
Saidh's eyes drooped the rest of the way closed and Joan straightened with a sigh, then glanced to the door as Cam returned with several men behind him. He moved directly to her, collecting a fur from the bed on the way to wrap around her, and then held it there as the men silently moved to the sleeping women.
"Garia woke as I carried her below," Cam announced suddenly as they watched the men pick up the women.
Joan glanced to him in question. "Did she say anything about the missing stable boy?"
"Aye. She told us where to find the body," he said grimly.
Joan sighed at this news and shook her head. "Did she say anything else?"
"Nothing worth repeating," he assured her, and then placed the ends of the fur in her hands and moved to follow the men to the door.
"Fetch their maids to them once ye have them in their rooms so they do no' wake up alone and scared," Cam ordered, as they filed out, and then he closed the door behind them.
"That was very thoughtful," Joan murmured as he turned and walked back to her. "I should have thought of it."
Cam just shook his head, scooped her up and carried her to the bed. He then settled in it with her in his lap and simply held her in his arms.
"Joan," he said after a moment.
"Aye?" she asked, tipping her head back to peer at him.
His head was tipped back and his eyes closed. "I love ye."
"I love you," she responded at once.
He nodded, and then lowered his head, opened his eyes and said, "Nay, I mean I really love ye. Everything about ye. Ye've no need to learn anything. I love ye just the way ye are."
"But ladies are supposed to know how to sing and dance and shoot arrows and--"
"Aye, I ken that's what is expected," he admitted, and then asked, "But what good are those things?"
She blinked at the question in confusion. "I'm not sure what you mean."
"What if ye'd kenned those things when I'd met ye?" he asked. "What could ye have done? Sing me sweet songs while I lay dying, and then dance on me grave?" He gave her a slight shake. "Ye do no' ken yer own value. Ye saved me with yer healing skills. Ye kenned enough to get us somewhere safe and out o' the way to heal. Ye've got courage, and while ye may no' be able to shoot an arrow straight yet, yer a damned fine shot with that slingshot o' yers." He paused briefly, and then added, "By the by, we should have made sure ye had that fer this little soiree. Ye could have defended yerself better." He peered at her seriously. "I'd like ye to carry it at all times from now on."
"Aye, husband," she said quietly.
Cam released a deep sigh and then promised, "I'll teach ye anything ye want to learn--to ride, to shoot an arrow, to fight with a sword e'en--but I'll no' have ye thinking ye have to learn anything fer me. I think ye're perfect just the way ye are."
"Oh," Joan said shakily, tears pooling in her eyes. "And I think you're perfect too."
He bent to kiss her gently, then lifted his head again, and asked, "So no more talk o' annulling the marriage?"
"Nay," she agreed solemnly.
"Good," Cam said just as solemnly, and then grinned and added, "No' that me mother would have allowed it anyway. She's decided ye're the perfect woman fer me too."
"She has, has she?" Joan asked with amusement.
"Aye," he assured her. "I think me picking ye to wife has raised me in her esteem. She thinks I'm ever so clever now."
"So do I," Joan said with a laugh, and then her expression turned serious and she caressed his face. "I do so love you, Campbell Sinclair."
"And I, you, Joan Sinclair." He lowered his head then to kiss her and Joan smiled, sure that everything would be all right.
Epilogue
"KENNA AND ANNELLA WERE VERY UPSET that we did not bring them with us."
That comment from her aunt made Joan glance up from the shirt she was mending and smile at the woman. "I don't know why you didn't bring them. They would have been welcome here. We have the room."
"Payton will bring them once we send word that the babe has arrived. I just did not want them to . . . get in the way," Lady Annabel said.
"You mean, you didn't want them seeing the horrors of childbirth and fear having babes themselves," Joan said dryly, and then quickly pushed thoughts of childbirth from her mind. She'd been doing that for months now, ever since discovering that the wild carrot had failed her and she was with child.
To be fair, Joan supposed the wild carrot hadn't really failed her. It tended to become less effective with constant use and she had been using it pretty constantly, mostly because Cam's attentions had been pretty constant. Not that she'd minded . . . until she'd realized she was with child.
Of course, on the bright side, they hadn't had to use it since then. There was no need to protect against getting with child when you were already with child, and she and Cam had been even more constant since finding out she was with child. Both of them were worried about what was coming, they'd been acting like she was dying, living every moment together as if it might be one of their last, which, of course, was what they feared. That she would not survive labor and their time was limited.
Joan shifted uncomfortably as her stomach cramped, and forced herself to breathe through it. Once it eased, she slid her gaze over the women seated with her in the solar. Her aunt, her mother-in-law, Murine, and Saidh. Aileen had wanted to come as well but Lady Sinclair had left her with her father at Inverderry castle where they had settled when the man had passed on the main castle and title of laird to Cam. Joan was quite sure they'd left the girl behind for the same reason her aunt had left her cousins home. None of them wanted the girls to know what they were in for and be so afraid of it that they tried to avoid getting with child. As for Murine and Saidh, they had become good friends in the last months. They didn't see each other often, but wrote back and forth quite a bit.
Fortunately, Cam liked them too, and he was the one who had written to invite them to come stay and lend their support when they judged her time was near. He'd done it as a surprise and Joan loved the man for it. Or, at least, loved him more. He was forever doing thoughtful little things like that, and every incident just increased her feelings for him, she thought as her stomach cramped again.
"Are you all right, dear?" Lady Annabel asked suddenly. "You look uncomfortable. Do you need something soft to sit on or--?"
"Nay, I am fine." Joan breathed with relief as the cramp ended. Forcing a smile she added, "Besides, no position is comfortable now, I am too big."
Annabel nodded, but her eyes were narrowed slightly as she peered over her and Joan knew the woman would soon realize she was in labor. She was a trained healer too, after all. Still, she'd managed to keep it to herself for some time. Joan had been in labor all morning, the first cramps waking her ere dawn, but they had been mild then and a goodly time apart. They had grown increasingly frequent and uncomfortable ever since. Now they were becoming downright painful. They were also coming so close together, one barely ended when the next began. She wouldn't be able to hide her situation for much longer, Joan thought and ground her teeth together, breathing slowly through her nose as the next pain hit . . . and it was a doozy.
"Would you like to lie down?" Annabel asked, suddenly beside her.
Joan glanced up with a start, her mouth opening on a gasp of surprise that ended in a groan before she could stop it.
"What's wrong?" Lady Sinclair was immediately beside her aunt, concern on her face. "Has it started?"
"Has what started?" Murine asked with confusion and received a swat to the arm
"What the de'il do ye think?" Saidh asked with disgust as she stood to join the others around Joan's chair.
"Please, sit," Joan panted as the cramping ended. "I'm fine."
"They are coming much closer together now, dear," Annabel said gently. "Perhaps we should move to your bedchamber while you can still walk."
Joan glanced to her with surprise. "How long have you known?"
"Since coming down to break my fast this morning," Annabel admitted. "You were rubbing your stomach when I arrived, and then just before we got up to come up here, you went very still and bowed your head for a moment."
"Well why didn't ye say something?" Lady Sinclair asked, wide-eyed.
"Joan obviously did not want anyone to know, so I respected her wishes," Annabel said apologetically.
"Well, why wouldn't ye want us to ken?" Lady Sinclair asked, looking wounded. "We're here to help ye through it. 'Tis why we came."
"Aye, 'tis, ye daft woman," Saidh said with a shake of the head and then moved up to take her arm. "Come on, up with ye. We'll get ye all settled in bed nice and cozy and ye can squeeze our hands 'til we scream with ye when the pains hit."
Lady Sinclair frowned slightly and said, "Perhaps Lady Saidh and Murine should wait here. They're unwed maids. 'Tis no' proper to--"
"Oh, bullocks to that," Saidh said at once. "I did no' travel all this way to sit in the solar while Joan travails in another room."
Joan chuckled at her friend's asperity and allowed her to help her up. "Come on then," she said with a sigh. "I guess Aunt Annabel is right. We should move to the bedchamber while I still can." Getting to her feet had got more and more difficult the larger her stomach had grown, but standing this time would have been impossible if Saidh hadn't taken one arm and her aunt the other to help pull her up. Breathless and panting once she got to her feet, Joan glanced around and paused as she noted Murine lying on the floor.
"That lass needs to eat more," Saidh muttered on a sigh when she followed Joan's gaze to the prone woman.
"I'll send one o' the maids back to help her once we get ye situated in bed," Lady Sinclair said with a shake of the head. "Come along."
"Aye," Joan murmured, eager to get to the other room before another contraction hit. She had barely kept from crying out this last time, and feared once she let loose, she wouldn't be able to stop. Joan did not want to be screaming her head off on the landing. Cam would hear and know it had started. The longer she could keep him from worrying, the better. If she were lucky, he wouldn't have to know until it was over and she was, hopefully, presenting him with his new baby. On the other hand, if she didn't survive . . . well, she didn't want him having to go through watching that. She loved the man too much.