After he and Gunnar left the chief’s dwelling, his brother turned to him. “The Ó Reilly’s need a new leader. Have you thought about joining them as their chief?”
He stared at his brother. “I’m not an Ó Reilly.”
“No, but we are merging the Dalrata with them. A man who can call himself both Irish andLochlannachwould be a strong representative. Unless you think yourself unable to lead?”
Gunnar’s goading challenge wasn’t lost on him. He’d never considered leading a clan or tribe of his own, for he’d always thought of himself as a MacEgan.
“They need you,” Gunnar offered. “And it would allow Morren to remain with her sister.”
Troubled thoughts clouded Trahern’s mind, for he didn’t know what Morren wanted from him. Would she want him to stay here the way she’d claimed? Or perhaps their celibate marriage was now beginning to wear down on her. Though he slept with her at night, occasionally touching her, there was an emptiness that cast its shadow over them.
“I’ll see what Morren thinks.” He wasn’t certain he wanted the responsibility, but he didn’t doubt he could make a good leader if the people chose him. “What about you?” he asked. “Where will you go?”
Gunnar flashed him a wicked grin. “I’ll build a hut of my own here and fill it with beautiful women.” His brother gave him a slight shove. “And speaking of women, I think you should tend to your own.”
Trahern stopped walking when he saw his wife talking to the other women. Morren met his gaze and smiled before she stopped abruptly and rested her hand on one of the huts, her face blanching. In seconds, Trahern was at her side. “What is it,a stór?”
She rested her hands over her midsection. “It hurts, Trahern.” Pale and terrified, she stared into his eyes. “Like before.”
She doubled over, in such pain that her meaning suddenly crystallized.
“When did you have your last woman’s flow?” he demanded.Oh Jesu, please, not this. Not again.
She shook her head. “I haven’t. Not since before our handfasting.”
And he knew. God help him, she was carrying his child. Possibly she might lose the babe, if he didn’t do something to help her.
No words could express the fear he felt right now.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Trahernliftedherintohis arms, taking long strides to the nearest hut. Morren struggled against the cramping pain, and she voiced silent prayers for the life of their child.
Be well,she pleaded.Don’t leave us.
Trahern set her down upon a pallet, and once she lay back, some of the pain started to clear. She kept her knees raised, and took a steadying breath. It was better, a little more bearable. And it didn’t seem that she’d been bleeding.
Her husband, however, looked as though he was going to faint. His dark hair had filled in, along with the traces of a beard. Like a fierce angel, he watched over her.
“It’s not so bad now,” she admitted. “The pain caught me without any warning.”
“How long have you known?” His voice sounded leaden, as though he expected her to die.
“I didn’t know, truly. I’ve only missed one flow, and that can happen.” She reached out for his hand, needing his touch. “But it’s a blessing I never dreamed of.”
“I am never touching you again,” he swore. “This is my fault.”
He looked so serious, she realized he meant it. “Trahern, this is everything I wanted. To bear a child for the man I—“ She broke off, her face reddening. They had endured so much together. He’d been at her side, during the most heart-wrenching moments and in the better times. She couldn’t imagine being with anyone else.
”—for the man I love,“ she finished.
Trahern sat down beside her, taking her hand. “Morren, I would give anything to spare you this pain.” The fear upon his face made it clear that he did care about her.
“Trahern, listen to me.” She laced her hand with his and tried to sit up. “For so long, I’ve allowed fear to become my master. I hid my sister away so that no one would know of my shame. And it nearly broke me.”
He moved beside her, supporting her in his arms. “I’ve sent for the healer.”
“I don’t think it will be needed,” she said. The cramping was no longer the same as her earlier miscarriage. This was more like the onset of her monthly discomfort.
