The door cracked open. ‘How is my patient?’ a man asked.
‘She is awake,’ Rory answered. ‘Perhaps it’s time I introduced you.’ He rose from the bed and attempted to straighten his tunic but gave up.
‘Moira, this is Dr Wilkes. He has cared for me and our family for as long as I can remember. Dr Wilkes, this is my wife, Lady Moira McKenna.’
Moira shifted and pulled up the bedclothes. An older man with a full grey beard and rather portly shape came in and greeted her. He had a pleasing smile and laughter in his eyes. ‘Pleased to officially meet you, my lady.’
‘And I you. Rory has told me much of how you have aided him when he has visited with you in the village. And thank you for coming here to tend to me. I know it must have been a difficult journey in the snow.’ She shifted on the bed feeling leery of what she may or may not have said in her sleep. She’d still not told Rory of the letter and—
Blast.
Where was the letter? Her eyes scanned the room in hopes that her cloak or gown from when she was out in the storm was still here, but she knew better. Tressa would have taken it to be laundered immediately.
‘Perhaps you could leave us?’ the doctor asked.
Rory met Moira’s gaze. ‘Are you well enough for me to step out?’
‘Aye,’ she answered.
He hesitated and then finally made his leave, closing the door behind him.
‘We have much to discuss,’ Dr Wilkes began.
‘Oh?’ Her cheeks flushed.
‘Nothing to fret over. Upon examining you when you were ill, I discovered you are with child.’
She froze. ‘What?’
‘I could hardly wait to tell you, so you could tell Laird McKenna. He will be so happy and the clan will—’
Moira burst into tears, a sob escaping from her lips.
Now it was the doctor’s turn to freeze. ‘My lady, I didn’t mean to...’ He trailed off and stood. ‘Perhaps I should leave. Send your husband back in. It was too soon for me to tell you, my apologies.’
She hiccupped. ‘Nay. It is glorious news. I am just overwhelmed. I knew I was late with my courses, but I wasn’t certain.’ She rested her hand on her stomach and worry set in. ‘Will the babe be harmed from the fever?’
‘Nay. You had a mild case. Nothing to fret over.’
She leaned back against the pillows. ‘That is a relief. Thank you, Doctor.’
He smiled down at her. ‘I’ll leave you a tonic if you need further rest, but otherwise, I’ll leave you be.’
‘Aye, thank you again.’
‘Of course, my lady. And I’ll be back to check in on the babe’s progress as you wish it.’
She nodded to him, and he left, closing the door smoothly behind him.
Not long after, Tressa entered with two servants behind her to fill the tub with hot water and to bring fresh towels and soaps for a bath. After all was set up and they had left, Rory came in. As he saw her face, his features tightened. He came to her, settling on the edge of the mattress, which shifted under his weight.
Clasping her hands in his own, he took a breath and spoke evenly to her, despite the alarm in his eyes. ‘Are you unwell?’
‘Nay.’ She smiled at him and another tear ran down her cheek.
‘Then why are you crying? I don’t understand. Did the doctor have poor news?’ He squeezed her hands and a muscle worked in his jaw.
‘I am overwhelmed with joy.’
