Tavis Stewart heard the serving woman’s words and he grinned. “‘Tis the first day of spring, lovey, though the winds are yet cold and from the north. I think it is a good omen that our first son be born upon the first day of spring.”
“Spring is a young girl,” Arabella said. “The king told me that when we were at court last year.” Then as a spasm passed over her face, she groaned deeply.
“That’s it, my lamb,” Flora encouraged her mistress, and then she glanced up at Lona. “Are the blankets warming, lass?’’
“Aye! I’m ready,” Lona said brightly.
“Lovey, is there much pain?” the earl fretted, and Flora rolled her eyes back in her head.
“Birthing a bairn is nae easy, my lord,” she told him.
“I’m all right, my love,” Arabella assured him, and then groaned again with even more feeling than the last time.
The earl paled even as Flora said brightly, “That’s it, my lady! Aye, there’s the wee one’s head now. Look, my lord! Lona! Push now, my lamb. Push!”
Arabella groaned and bore down with all her strength. Now Flora was moving into position between the wooden runners and bending down to help her mistress. “Ohhhh, Flora!” Arabella shrieked. “I feel it coming! I feel it coming!”
“Aye, my lamb, here’s its little head and shoulders already born. Push but once more. Aye, here’s the bairn,’’ Flora crowed as the baby slipped from its mother’s womb and into her capable hands. Quickly Flora wiped the birthing blood from the baby with warm oil as it lay upon a mat upon the floor. Then she neatly clipped and knotted the cord, wrapping the baby tightly in its swaddling clothes as the infant scrunched up its little face and screamed with outrage.
“She’s her mother’s daughter,” said the earl, having astutely noted his child’s sex as Flora tended to her.
“You are not disappointed?” Arabella said quietly, another spasm passing over her face as she passed the afterbirth.
“Nay, lovey. Yer safe, wee Maggie is safe, and we’ll hae other bairns,” he told her, kissing her brow again.
“She’s a good breeder,” Flora said approvingly. “She nae be like her poor mother.’’
‘‘Give me my daughter,’’ Arabella demanded of her husband, who was now cradling the infant and making soft cooing noises, which had strangely quieted the baby. “Is everyone to see this miracle before I am?”
Flora smiled and Lona giggled as the earl handed his daughter to her mother. “Bid yer mother a good evening, wee Maggie,” Tavis Stewart said, bending to place the child in Arabella’s arms. Amazement and awe lit the Countess of Dunmor’s beautiful features as she gazed upon her offspring for the first time. The infant’s features were perfect, and although she did not have a great deal of hair upon her head, what hair she had was pale gold like her mother’s. Her skin was pink and healthy looking. Her eyes blue and alert. This was obviously a baby who would survive.
“Ohh, my little love,” Arabella said softly with delight as she gazed upon her daughter. Lady Margaret Stewart, however, opened up her rosebud mouth and howled loudly, her dainty miniature features growing scarlet with her indignation.
“What is the matter with her?” Arabella cried, frightened.
“She is her mother’s daughter,” the earl repeated over the din of his offspring’s cries. “A spitfire’s temper and a mind of her own. It will take a strong-willed Scotsman to tame her, lovey.”
“A strong-willed Englishman,” Arabella said.
He looked puzzled.
“This is Greyfaire’s heiress, my lord. You promised me. Now that Margaret has been born, you must go to the king and see that our daughter’s inheritance is restored to her,” Arabella said seriously.
“I will provide for my daughter,” the earl said as seriously. “And besides, Jemmie is worse than useless in his mourning. He’ll do naught for us, lovey.”
“You promised me, my lord!” There was an edge to her voice.
“My lady, gie me the bairn,” Flora said. “Lona will look after her tonight, and ye need yer rest.’’
She was tired. Suddenly and without warning, very tired. Arabella allowed her husband to put her to bed after Flora had sponged her down with perfumed water and placed a fresh chemisette of soft white silk upon her body. He laid her gently upon the fragrant lavender-scented sheets, settling her carefully upon her pillows. Then to everyone’s surprise, the earl kicked off his house slippers and climbed into bed with Arabella, drawing her tenderly into his arms protectively. “Leave us,” he told the two startled-looking women servants, and when they had gone, he spoke softly but firmly to his wife. “I hae given ye my word, Arabella, that I will try to regain Greyfaire for our eldest daughter, and Iwillkeep my word to ye. Can ye nae understand that?”
“When?” Her voice, though weak, was implacable.
He nuzzled the top of her head. “When our wee Maggie is a month old, I will go to Jemmie and ask him to petition King Henry. It is all we can do, lovey. The Tudor may not choose to return yer precious Greyfaire to us. I hae told ye before that all we can do is try, but we will try. Ye must be patient, lassie.”
“I am not very good at being patient,” she said low.
“Then ‘tis a habit ye hae best learn if ye are to deal wi’ the powerful, lovey. Those in positions of authority are effective precisely because they are in positions of control over the impuissant and defenseless. Their power grows wi’ the vulnerability of others.”
