“I bid you the same, Laird.” Ronan and Clyde watched the man leave before Clyde closed the door again.
“Do ye trust him?”
“Nae even by the wee hairs on his weak chin. But who kens? He might surprise us both, and for the better. That is yet to be seen. But I ken I dinna envy him the life he’s just stepped into. I think it became far more real this eve when he faced Abby and me. I think she scares him more than I do.”
“Och, I thought he was going to wet himself when we all stood. Then when Lady MacKinnon spoke, I expected to find a puddle under the pup.” Clyde grinned, making Ronan chuckle. He’d shared the same thought.
“I’m for bed,” Ronan announced. “He shall get his vera first lesson in the lists tomorrow when I knock him on his arse. We’ll see if he has any humility there and if he can take instruction. If he canna do it in the lists, then he willna do it anywhere else. If that’s the case, I wash ma hands of him now.”
Much like they’d done countless times since Clyde and Maisie wed, Clyde left for his croft and Ronan turned toward his chamber. But unlike so many times before, he now had a wife to look forward to, just like his friend.
Forty-Two
“Ronan, I canna appear before the queen with ma laces blowing in the breeze, but neither can I wear ma arisaid,” Abigail huffed with impatience as Ronan tried to pull her gown closed. “When I agreed to travel with ye three moons ago, I didna ken ma waist would be thickening so fast. I didna ken it would be at all! I dinna have the right clothes.”
Ronan turned Abigail to face him, her eyes welling with tears. He pressed her head against his chest before resting his arm against her back while he stroked her hair. His other hand rubbed the swell of her belly. When Abigail lost all interest in food not long after Landry’s visit, Ronan feared she was unwell. When she cast up her accounts but insisted she was fine, he refused to listen and summoned Naida. The healer confirmed what Abigail suspected: she was with child. They’d considered Abigail remaining at Dun Ringill when Ronan finally planned his journey to Stirling, but neither was happy with that arrangement.
Unwilling to make Abigail ride on horseback for a fortnight—too frightened that the horse might throw her—he suggested a wagon. Abigail glared at him and said she would walk to Stirling instead of rattling her teeth loose in a wagon. They compromised and sailed. Even with the shorter trip, Abigail’s middle expanded faster than she expected. She arrived at the royal court unable to lace her gowns closed without her chemise showing. While on the birlinn and even in the town of Stirling, wearing her arisaid was acceptable and hid her clothing difficulties. But she couldn’t wear it when she was presented to the queen.
“I wish Laurel were still here. She doesnae ken, but I discovered she’s an expert seamstress. I ken she made her own clothes.”
“She made her clothes?” Ronan asked skeptically.
“Aye. I dinna ken all the details, but her father barely had a dowry for her and didna buy her what she needed. She started making her own clothes and even sold some gowns to earn pocket money. Anyway, if she were here, she could solve this.”
“Are there any ladies here who ye could ask?”
“I dinna ken, Ronan. What am I going to do?” Abigail fought the urge to burst into tears. She struggled against her vacillating emotions, unprepared for how they frequently changed now that she was pregnant. Maisie had warned her, and Bethea had offered her a motherly pat on the arm. But she hadn’t understood until the mood swings began. Now she felt like a watering pot.
“We’ll go into town and purchase ye a new gown, or we’ll find a seamstress who can adjust what ye have, Abby. We’ll make it work. Dinna fash. I willna have ye showing up in front of the queen in yer shift.”
Abigail offered him a watery smiled as she nodded. She leaned against him once more, stifling a yawn. She’d gotten little sleep while they traveled, often sleeping on the ground or on the deck. They’d stayed at inns when they could, but it wasn’t every night. When Ronan suggested she climb into bed, she didn’t disagree. She fell asleep to Ronan once again stroking her hair. When she awoke feeling refreshed, they ventured into town, where they visited two haberdashers. Abigail burst into happy tears when they returned to their chamber and laid out the four gowns they’d purchased. She smothered Ronan in kisses before they fell back into bed, but neither slept.
* * *
“Lady MacKinnon,” Queen Elizabeth greeted Abigail. “It appears marriage suits you.” The older woman smiled as she glanced at Abigail’s belly. Abigail wore a sapphire-colored kirtle with amethyst trim along the collar, cuffs, and hem. The gown fit her perfectly, disguising her growing belly while surprisingly comfortable. But it hadn’t taken long before people detected her condition, and the women began gossiping. Abigail rubbed her hand over her belly and beamed.
“Marriage to Laird MacKinnon suits me very well.”
“I can’t say that I’m surprised. It was obvious from the start. You both appear very besotted with one another.”
“I won’t deny I love my husband, and he returns my sentiments.”
“So much so that it appeared as though he didn’t want you to return here.” Queen Elizabeth looked around her solar.
“I haven’t felt my best lately, Your Grace. Laird MacKinnon was concerned since I tire more easily.”
“Abigail,” Queen Elizabeth lowered her voice. “You deserve a doting husband, and I’m happy you’ve found one. We heard aboot what you endured at Dunvegan.”
Abigail remained quiet. The woman hadn’t asked a question, so Abigail offered no response. She wouldn’t say anything unless she was pressed. She knew everything she told the queen would be repeated directly to King Robert. She didn’t intend to say anything that might reveal more than Ronan wanted. They’d discussed their strategy while they traveled. Abigail would defer to him when she could, and demure to any questions she didn’t want to answer. Queen Elizabeth narrowed her eyes before she nodded.
“You’ve matured, Lady MacKinnon. You seem more confident.” Queen Elizabeth waited for Abigail to respond.
“Thank you, Your Grace.” Abigail graciously accepted the compliment, but she had nothing more to say.
“You must be settled now at Dun Ringill. A battle just after your arrival must have been quite the ordeal.” Queen Elizabeth’s tone sounded sincere, but Abigail recognized the manipulation, which made the queen’s voice seem patronizing. “It isn’t easy when the mon you marry is at odds with your family.”
“I’m blessed that Ronan and Kieran are like brothers.”
