As he withdrew from her body and got dressed, she felt the shielded distance descending once more. Though she’d granted him the physical release he’d needed, it wasn’t enough.
And she didn’t know how to break through to him.
Afterhe’dgone,Larentried to stand, but her knees buckled beneath her. The familiar dizziness broke over her like a wave, and she lowered her head, fighting to steady herself.
You should have told him, her conscience warned. She hadn’t had her woman’s flow in nearly two months and her breasts were tender. The familiar signs of pregnancy were there and she supposed this new child would be born the following autumn.
It surprised her that Alex hadn’t guessed already. Anything and everything made her cry. The tears came without warning, and today had been particularly bad. Nairna had been trying for so long, wanting a child, and Laren had fought to hold back her emotions.
It seemed so unfair that Nairna should want a child so desperately, while her own fertility was effortless. She’d said nothing, not wanting to hurt her friend.
But she had other reasons for not telling Alex. She was achingly tired all of the time, and nausea plagued her from the moment she woke up until she fell asleep at night. It was so unlike her other pregnancies, she felt afraid for the first time in her life.
He would worry overmuch, likely confining her to bed. And then how would she finish the glass?
Just a little longer, she thought to herself. A few weeks more and the troublesome symptoms would subside. She’d finish the windows and then tell him about the new child.
Her hand moved down to her womb and she voiced a silent prayer that the bairn would somehow survive.
Chapter Twelve
Finianstaredintothedying coals of the fire, his spirits as sunken as his cheeks. He didn’t remember the last time he’d eaten. And he didn’t know what to do. Their raid had failed. He’d underestimated the strength of their fighters and seizing a hostage no longer seemed possible. This task rested upon his shoulders and damned if he had any idea what to do now.
“Finian,” came the voice of his brother Brochain. “English soldiers have arrived.”
He jerked to his feet, resting his hand upon the hilt of his sword. “What do they want?”
“They came from Harkirk. They said they had a message from the baron.”
His brother held out a cloth-wrapped bundle, and bile rose up in Finian’s throat. By the Holy Virgin, what was this? He set the bundle upon a table and peeled back the layers of cloth. In the center, he saw the ragged gown that had once belonged to his daughter.
The implication, that her clothing had been taken from her . . . that the soldiers were using her . . . it was too much.
He closed his eyes, the rage building up until he could hardly think. His brother stared at the gown, his face white. “Is that Iliana’s?”
“Aye.” Finian clenched the gown, trying to keep control over his stomach. He couldn’t bear to think of any man laying a hand upon his daughter. Whether or not his fears had come to pass, the message was clear.
His time was running out.
Theinteriorofthenew keep was warmer than Laren had expected. It seemed that every member of the MacKinloch clan had gathered inside the Hall. Though it was built of wood for now, already the men had begun laying stone to surround the wooden interior. She slipped inside the chamber, keeping in the background as she searched for her girls.
She saw them seated beside Alex at the far end of the room. He was talking to Bram while Nairna was busy organizing food. Laren rested her back against the wooden wall, trying to stay out of the way. The scent of cooking meat wafted through the air, and she swallowed hard to quell the nausea.
She needed to sit down, to calm her stomach and the lightheaded feeling, but there were no benches or chairs. The people milled around, drinking and talking, and she felt the familiar nerves creeping up. The desire to leave the crowds was rising up, and she fought her instincts.
Instead, she focused on the walls of the keep. The fresh scent of cut wood was welcome and she ran her hands over the surface. Though it would be one day be lined with stone, at least they would have a dry roof over their heads for tonight.
She kept to the outer perimeter, pasting a smile on her face that didn’t belong there. As she neared Alex, she saw Vanora standing not far from the children. The older woman was responding to something her husband had said. When Laren greeted her, Vanora didn’t seem to have heard her.
“He’s been waiting on her, but she’s not here yet,” the matron was saying, with her back toward her. “I don’t know why he’s gathered us together, but it has something to do with Laren.”
Laren was held motionless, not understanding. She’d thought this was about a celebration, a welcome for the people to be glad of the new keep.
The sickening feeling in her stomach twisted again. She was close enough to Alex that he could now see her and when she saw the wrapped package, her heart plummeted.
No. He wouldn’t.
“Many of you have asked where we’ve found the silver to fund the rebuilding of Glen Arrin,” Alex said in a voice that carried over the crowd. “I believe you deserve that answer now.”
