Chapter 9
The spring equinox came. The days were longer and brighter. On the last day of March, Maggie gave birth so quickly that there was no time, Grizel later complained, for any proper preparations to be made. Not that they weren’t ready for the child. The old carved oak cradle had been brought from the attic to be dusted and polished. A new feather and down mattress had been sewn for it. There were swaddling clothes, and tiny gowns ready for the baby.
Maggie had slept fitfully, for her back ached fiercely. Finally as the sun began to rise, she called to Grizel, who had been sleeping on the trundle. “I need wine,” she said, “to ease the pain in my back.”
“Yer in labor,” Grizel replied. “I’ll send for Agnes,” and she did.
The midwife came to find Maggie, groaning, her pretty face all squinched up. Quickly she whipped off the coverlet and gave a shriek. “The bairn has gotten itself almost out,” she cried. “Push down, my lady, and finish it,” Agnes said.
Maggie took a deep breath and then pushed as hard as she could, giving a shriek as she did, for she felt her body relieving itself of its burden. And then to her astonishment she heard the cries of an infant. She had been half sitting against her pillows. Now she leaned forward to see what she might see.
The midwife was lifting the bloodied baby up, her face wreathed in a broad smile. “Ye’ve done yer duty, Mad Maggie Kerr. ’Tis a lad, and no mistake about it,” she said.
The door between her chamber and Fin’s was suddenly flung open. Her husband stepped into the room. “I heard a cry,” he said. “Is all well here?” He looked about him.
“Yer the father of a fine lad, my lord,” Agnes said, holding the squalling infant out for him to see. “Let’s get him cleaned up and properly swaddled so he may go down to the hall to greet his clan folk.”
Fingal Stewart stared at the wet and red infant in her hands. He was not used to children and thought this one rather noisy with his howling. “Maggie?” he said, turning away from the boy and towards his wife.
“For all her troubles these past months,” Grizel told her master, “she birthed the bairn easily. I’ve never seen a quicker delivery, nor has Agnes. If she hadn’t awakened me to fetch her some wine, my lady would have had yer lad without us.”
“Maggie mine,” he said, seating himself next to her, then taking her hand up and kissing it. “Thank ye for our Jamie,” he said.
“Jamie?We have not yet discussed his name,” Maggie responded.
“Why, lovey, have ye not heard yer grandsire and me in the hall these many months talking about what we would name the lad?” he asked her. “He is James Dugald Kerr, and ’twas decided weeks ago.”
“And if this bairn had been a lass?” Maggie wanted to know. She was very angry.
“Why, there was never any doubt this would be a lad,” Fingal Stewart told his wife in reasonable tones. “We needed a lad. But had my seed been weakened by ye the night I planted it, I’m certain ye would have had a name to give a female bairn.”
Maggie couldn’t believe what she was hearing. The words coming out of his mouth could have been her grandfather’s. She expected the old man to speak such words. But Fingal Stewart? Her husband, who had been so fair with her until this moment? She was outraged. “Leave me,” she said in an icy voice.
The delight of his accomplishment in producing a firstborn son now clouding his judgment, Fin said, “In a moment, Maggie mine. I want to take our Jamie down to the hall. Jesu! The lad has good-size balls on him for one so newborn.”
“Get out!” Maggie shouted. “I’ll not have ye paradingmy sonabout a smoky hall boasting to all who will listen. I will only allow Grandsire in this room to see him. Grizel and Agnes will spread the word as to his birth and health. And when I decide, and only then, will David be taken to the hall.”
“David?His name is James,” Fin said.
“His name is David, after my father, and after my uncle. Add James Dugald to it if ye will, but he is first and foremost David!” Maggie said firmly.
“We’ll see what yer grandsire says about that,” Fin told her.
“I don’t give a damn what Grandsire says,” Maggie snapped. “Or ye either for that matter. This ismyson,myfirstborn child. Ye did not carry this lad in yer belly for months on end, Fingal Stewart, nor did my grandsire. Yer contribution was to fuck me one fortunate night. And ye enjoyed it as ye always do. The rest of the work was all mine, and I will damned well have a say in naming my son. He will be baptized David James Dugald, and he will be called Davy. Now get out! My son and I need our rest. Yer disturbing us.” She waved him away even as Grizel put the swaddled infant into her arms. Maggie looked down at the baby, and was suddenly overwhelmed with a rush of love for her bairn. She had hated the months she had carried him, but seeing him now here cradled against her, she knew she would face a horde of demons to keep him safe.
“Go along, my lord,” Grizel told Fin softly. “She’ll calm down eventually. Find the laird. Tell him he has a fine new great-grandson, and the Kerr-Stewarts have an heir.”
Fin nodded. “The old man will be delighted,” he said, and then he left his wife’s bedchamber through the same door by which he had come.
“He treated me as if I were some broodmare,” Maggie said darkly. “And how dare Grandsire and he choose my bairn’s name? And did ye hear him prattling about how I might haveweakenedhis seed and produced a lass?”
The two older women burst out laughing.
“Men can be such fools,” Midwife Agnes said. “Especially after the birth of a first son. They behave as if they have done it all themselves.”
“I want no more bairns for now, Agnes,” Maggie said. “Give me what I will need to prevent conceiving. As long as Davy retains his good health, Fingal Stewart and my grandsire will have to wait until a time of my choosing for another heir.”
The midwife nodded. “He must keep from yer bed for several weeks while ye heal and recover. If he is randy, then send him to the miller’s daughter. She whores now and again to earn a bit of coin to keep her own bairn, as her da will not help her. She was seduced by a passing peddler several years ago, and the miller has never forgiven her. I give her what I’ll be giving ye. I’ll bring it in two weeks’ time to show ye how to use it.”
