She shoved her wild mane of curls out of her eyes and growled again as she searched for a ribbon to tie around the unruly mess. “Damn, what I wouldn’t give for even one freaking rubber band right now!” She stormed over to the curtained-off corner hiding the chamber pot cabinet. “And arealbathroom. Wonderful running water—hot and cold. But, no, I have to squat over the chamber pot because I have to piss every freaking five minutes since your sons use my bladder for a trampoline. Or if I really feel like getting fancy, I get to use a garderobe that we in Kentucky would call an indoor outhouse!”
Caelan rolled back and stared up at the canopied ceiling of the great oak bed. Emrys and Florie had warned him about a breeding woman’s temper swings, and that Rachel would grow tetchier as her discomfort grew. If the bairns weren’t due to come until after Yule, the entire clan could be in danger of losing their lives in a matter of weeks.
She emerged from behind the curtain, her lovely eyes still flashing purple venom. As she approached the bed, she chopped the air with her hands, keeping time with each of her words. “Roderic plans to kill you, lay claim to your clan, claim me, and do who knows what to our sons. He so much as said so in thegarden, and all you do is smile and tell me we’re going to grow old together and raise our bairns? How stupid do you think I am?”
Hands on her hips, she narrowed her eyes into a deadly glare, waiting for him to dig himself deeper into the hole in which he appeared to, currently, be trapped.
He chose his words carefully as he nonchalantly piled the bedclothes across his lap so his beloved wife couldn’t see how much her fiery tirade excited him. It had been so long since they’d loved and lore the woman’s passion was unmatched. The sooner he calmed her, the sooner he could try to channel her fire into a more enjoyable outlet.
“Rachel,” he began, then stopped and cleared his throat.Start again and dinna talk to her like she’s a child.“As I’m sure Emrys already told ye, Roderic and I have been sworn enemies since he sprang from my father’s mistress’s womb.” Caelan fought to control both his voice and his yearning for her as she circled the room like a caged lioness. “Da took a mistress after my mother died while bringing me into this world. He swore he’d never wed another because my mother was his one true match. But Da was a lusty man, and Roderic’s mother filled a need. When she brought forth her bairn and found it nay changed my father’s mind about marrying her, she abandoned Roderic on the steps of the keep, telling everyone that the only reason she’d brought the bastard into the world was to secure a place at the head table for herself.”
Caelan rose from the bed, then halted as Rachel’s eyes narrowed even more and her lips thinned as though she’d draw a weapon if he drew any closer.
“So ye see,” he said as he sat on the edge of the bed. “Roderic resents how he was abandoned because he turned out to be a useless pawn.”
“Doesn’t look to me like he’s that much worse for the wear. He’s still here.” Rachel propped her arms on the shelf of her belly and tapped her foot on the stone floor.
Caelan sensed that what little patience she possessed was nearing its end. “Aye, the clan took him in, but the man will always be known as a bastard. As ye have said yourself, ye ken how cruel Scotland can be for one so labeled.” He held his breath, praying her murderous mood would pass as it usually did.
She massaged her temples while pacing the room. “I understand his bitterness and jealousy, but that doesn’t negate the fact that he’s a danger to you and our sons. I’m not worried about myself. If he bothers me, I’ll just cover him in bird shit again.” She dropped to a pillowed bench, buried her face in her hands, and gave way to her tears. “No one takes me seriously in this century. None of you listen. Not ever.”
Damnation. Not the tears. Caelan rushed to her side. He’d rather her rant and rave, throw anything she could hoist into the air, and threaten to cast every spell she might ever hope to know, but, by the Goddess, don’t let her cry. He dropped to his knees alongside her. “Shh now, Rachel, love. Hush now, my precious one. It will be all right, and I’m not just saying that to make ye stop crying.”
She sobbed harder, keening out a high-pitched wail.
As he rose to sit beside her on the bench and tried to pull her into his arms, someone knocked on their bedchamber door.
“What the hell now?” he roared while smoothing Rachel’s hair and gently rocking.
Florie entered the room with a tray of sliced fruit and cheese but halted as soon as she took in the situation. She slid the tray onto the table beside the bed and rushed to Rachel’s side. “Are ye ill, m’lady?” She gently lifted Rachel’s face to hers and shook her head with concern. “Are ye in pain? Is it the wee ones?”
“No, none of that.” Rachel snuffled, then burst into another hiccupping tirade of tears. “I’m sick with misery and frustration because no one will listen to the danger that my husband and my sons are in, and there’s nothing I can do about it because of this stupid century where women are expected to do nothing but b-b-breed and accept whatever fate hands them while walking around spouting sunshine and shitting rainbows!” She turned away from Caelan, covered her face with a pillow, and howled anew.
“Lore a’mighty,” Caelan whispered, then shook his head. He looked at Florie and prayed the woman could help.
“I see.” Florie narrowed her eyes at him, then grabbed hold of his sleeve and urged him to his feet.
“What did ye say to her?” she hissed as she herded him into the large solar just off the bedchamber. The morning sun streamed in through the tall, narrow windows but it failed to knock the chill from the air.
Caelan shrugged, feeling much like a lad falsely accused of stealing bannocks from the larder. “All I did was tell her everything was going to be all right. I assured her we would all be fine and grow old together and raise our bairns.”
“So ye talked to her like she was a daft idiot, did ye? Have ye no more sense than that fool Emrys?” Florie shoved him toward the hearth and pointed at the wood piled beside it. “Feed the coals, man. Ye dinna wish her to grow chilled, do ye?”.
“Woman, ye forget your place. I am the laird here.” But he hurried to do as she said and soon had a good fire crackling. “What are ye thinking?” he demanded with a glance back over his shoulder.
“I’m thinking if the laird had a brain in his head, he’d be doing whatever it took to keep his wife happy since she’s more miserable with each passing day. Have ye thought of telling Emrys to let Lady Rachel work in his library or help himtranslate his books? She might find that a comfort rather than all the other things she’s been unable to do.” Florie gave him a sad shake of her head. “Poor lamb. Ye should have seen her face when she burned the bread, knotted the weaving, and scalded the tallow while trying to make the candles.” She jabbed a finger at him. “She needs help to find her place so she will feel like she belongs.”
Caelan rubbed his chin, mulling over the suggestion. Could Florie be right? If Rachel had something to do that she enjoyed, then maybe that would ease her into her new home and help her settle until the babes arrived. Then she’d have three very important things keeping her days filled.
“Emrys will not like it,” he said as he continued scrubbing at the stubble along his jaw.
“Are ye not the laird?” Florie tapped her foot impatiently on the floor.
“Some people appear to have trouble remembering that,” Caelan replied.
“Ye should have seen her, Fergus,”Florie said, her voice soft as silk in the darkness. “It nearly tore my heart in two, finding her there, weeping all alone in the garden. The poor lamb needs kindness right now, the company of women, and yet none draw near to her.” She blew out a heavy sigh. “’Tis unlike the women of this clan to be so cold and cruel.”
Fergus kissed the top of her head and tightened his arm around her, pulling her closer. “I have seen Lady Rachel off to herself entirely too often. The clan holds her at arm’s length, I fear. Her keeping such close company with Emrys does not help her cause. She’s playing right into the hands of all the rumor-mongers intent on stirring suspiciousness and fear at every corner.”
