Directly behind the king, Laoghaire caught sight of her brother and cousin, both men pushing back the crowd to keep the jostling bystanders at bay.
“My brother’sswiftarrival was nearly the death of us,” she deadpanned.
Given the contentious history between Galen and Iain, she was surprised when her husband shrugged and said, “The Bruce has a fondness for rescuing damsels in distress. However, I suspect that having the king in tow may have slowed your brother’s progress.”
Although he made a valid point, Laoghaire was still annoyed with her brother’s tardiness. “Unless his horse went lame, there’s no excuse for his—”
The king’s sudden appearance prevented her from continuing, Laoghaire clamping her mouth shut while she respectfully bowed her head and dipped her knees in deference to the monarch.
The Bruce greeted her warmly. “Lady Angus, I am glad-hearted to see you.” Then, clapping a hand onto Galen’s shoulder, he said, “Now, what is this talebearing that has come to my ears about your countess having bewitched you?”
Pulling Laoghaire close to his side, Galen grinned broadly and said, “Sire, I fear that rumor is all too true.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“Have ye told Angus yet?”
Loath to respond, Laoghaire shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Iain MacKinnon was one of those men who expected—no, demanded—an answer to every question posed, and she now regretted having confided in her brother.
Worried that their conversation might be overheard, the great hall at Castle Balloch filled to capacity, she peered over her shoulder. Although the feast began hours ago, there was still much merrymaking in evidence, with groups of drunken revelers and bands of minstrels roaming the vast chamber.
Satisfied that there were no eavesdroppers lurking too closely, she said in a lowered voice, “An opportunity has not presented itself.” What she didn’t reveal was that she was waiting for the perfect moment to divulge her secret, something a man would never understand.
“An opportunity?!” Iain boomed, the bellow garnering more than a few startled glances in their direction. “Ye’re carrying the heir to an earldom in yer belly. I think that’s worthy of at least a brief mention.”
“Keep yer voice down!” Laoghaire hissed.
“Although once ye do see fit to inform Angus, the news might actually put a smile on the big brute’s face.”
“He smiles!” she insisted, coming quickly to Galen’s defense.
“Humph.”
Exasperated, Laoghaire’s tongue got the better of her. “Well, if it’s a boy child, rest assured that I will not be naming it after ye.”
The gibe met with an almost comically wounded expression. “Even after I risked life and limb to save ye from the pyre?”
“Because of yer dawdling, I nearly became a human torch. Thank God that I have a husband who—”
“Is standing right behind ye,” Iain interjected with an amused chuckle.
Startled, Laoghaire spun around. She gathered from Galen’s incurious expression that he’d not overheard “the news.” A crowded great hall was no place for him to learn that his wife was with child.
With child.The very words filled her with awe, joy, excitement. And with hope for the future.I am going to have Galen’s baby.While she had suspected as much when she set out from Castle Airlie, she’d only recently become certain of it.
“I take it ye’re finished with the betrothal contract?” Iain inquired.
“Yea, the settlement has been agreed upon, and the king has affixed his seal to the covenant,” Galen answered. “The baron drove a hard bargain, but I think he will be pleased with his future bride.”
Laoghaire made no comment, well aware that Galen and her brother were discussing Melisande’s betrothal to a nobleman who’d recently lost a wife in childbed; and who was, as Galen had bluntly put it, “in the market for a replacement.” While Laoghaire could not think of Dame Winifred without succumbing to rage, she bore the daughter no ill will, and hoped that Melisande would find happiness in her new life.
“No doubt, ye have much to discuss with yer husband,” Iain remarked, winking at her. Then, turning to Galen, his expression sobered considerably. “Ye’d be wise to acquire a taste for whisky. Ye’ll have need of it in the coming months.”
“God’s heart,” Laoghaire muttered under her breath, relieved to see the back of him. Because Iain’s wife, Yvette, was soon to give birth to their first child, her brother now evidently considered himself an expert on the subject of fatherhood.
“All of this feasting and matchmaking has exhausted me. Shall we retire to our chamber?”
Laoghaire smiled coyly at her husband. “I, too, have grown weary of the revelry.”
