Cormac was sittingby the fire in the cottage when he heard the sound of voices shouting. “Lord Dunmeath! We’ve come to bring you home. It’s her ladyship. She’s very ill.”
He threw the door open and saw Stephens on horseback, along with another servant. Both held torches, and they had a horse saddled and waiting for him.
“Please, my lord. The dowager Lady Dunmeath is with her now. We’ve sent for the doctor.”
Fear iced through him at the thought of Emma becoming sick. He’d been afraid of this, despite Emma’s insistence that nothing would happen to her. And now, the danger was clearly for both of them.
Cormac didn’t bother taking his cloak, but mounted the animal and spurred his horse as fast as he could, galloping hard toward the castle. It was already dark, and Stephens led the way. The frigid air tore through him, but he felt none of it. The flare of orange against the darkness was the only light, and with every mile, Cormac’s fear shifted into rage.
How could anyone want to harm Emma? His wife was kind, and she deserved none of this. She’d left England for him, traveling to his home and giving up everything to live at his side. He’d known that this was hard for her, and his mother had not made it any easier.
A sudden hardness caught at his gut as he wondered whether Josephine had anything to do with Emma’s sudden illness. His mother wouldn’t do such a thing, would she? Or had Nuala given her a tea that caused it?
When the towers of Dunmeath emerged, he continued riding swiftly until he reached the entrance. He swung down, not even bothering to hand off his horse to the stable lads. Instead, he took the stairs two at a time, hurrying toward the front door and throwing it open.
“Where is Lady Dunmeath?” he demanded of the first footman he saw.
“In her bedchamber,” the man answered. “We’ve sent for the physician, but—”
Cormac didn’t wait for him to finish but instead raced up the stairs. His legs were burning, and he’d lost his breath, but he could only think of reaching Emma in time.
When he turned down the hall, he saw his aunt Nuala waiting outside.
“Oh good, Cormac, you’re here,” she said. But before he could go inside, she barred his path. “Wait, lad.”
“I’m going to see her,” he insisted, fully prepared to shove her aside.
“And so you shall,” Nuala answered. “But she’s fighting to keep her baby. Do nothing to upset her. Keep her calm and lift her spirits. I will continue praying for you both.”
“A baby?” The words were both a prayer and a heartbreak. “But she’s not—”
“Womencanbleed and still be pregnant,” Nuala said. “And I think she is, though it may be too soon to know for certain.” She stepped away from the door and added, “She needs you, Cormac. Go and be with her.”
He pushed open the door, and his heart nearly stopped when he saw Emma lying down, her face ghostly pale. His mother’s expression was grim, but she sat beside his wife.
“Emma, I’m here,” he said, reaching for her hand. Her skin was cool, and she opened her eyes.
“You were supposed to stay at the cottage,” she said weakly.
“They told me you were ill. I wasn’t about to stay behind.” He squeezed her hand, but she didn’t return the gesture. Cormac hated being so helpless. He now understood the way she’d felt at his bedside, and he was determined that it would never happen again.
“I’ll let you rest for a while,a stór,” he told Emma. “I need to speak with my mother.” He beckoned for Josephine to follow him, and they stood closer to the door.
“How did this happen?” he demanded of his mother. “She was in perfect health two days ago when I saw her last.”
“Nuala thinks she’s pregnant,” Josephine answered. “She was feeling nauseous and warm yesterday.”
But he didn’t believe her illness was from pregnancy. This was clearly far too serious for that, and he knew the familiar symptoms of weakness and nausea.
“Tell me what she ate and who she saw,” he ordered.
“She ate in the kitchen with the cook and then had tea with Nuala the next day,” Josephine began.
Neither seemed likely, so he pressed further. “Was Moreen here?”
“I don’t think so,” Josephine answered. “But she and Nuala went out together the first day Emma arrived back. I think they were out shopping.”
He believed now that Moreen was the greatest threat to Emma. The woman’s ambitions were clear, and if anyone wanted to hurt his wife, it had to be her.
