“You need to slow down,” he said. “The kirk won’t be finished until the summer. There’s time yet. You’ve no reason to work all day, every day.”
Instead of his words reassuring her, Laren buried her face in her hands. “I have to work at this pace, or it won’t be finished.”
“I don’t need you working yourself into exhaustion for it. We don’t need the silver.”
The desperation in her expression made him fear that, once again, she was hiding something from him. “Laren,” he warned, “what is it?”
She grew silent, taking long breaths before she lifted her face to his. “I’m going to have another baby.”
Theunexpectedjoythatflickered upon his face suddenly halted. “You aren’t happy about this child, are you?”
His accusatory tone bothered Laren. It wasn’t that she didn’t want the bairn. She loved her children and welcomed the thought of a new life.
But she was deeply afraid that this child wouldn’t live. She hadn’t yet felt any movement, and the harsh symptoms were taking their toll upon her body. She didn’t know what to tell him and her silence was damning.
The look on his face made her feel as though she’d buried a dirk in his gut. “Is it that you don’t want to bear any more children of mine?”
She wanted to utter no, that it wasn’t that at all. But if she admitted the danger, he wouldn’t let her near the glass. The urge to hold in her secret was so strong that she almost held her silence. But when he turned away from her, she sensed that if he left her, nothing would be the same ever again.
“Wait,” she said. “You’re wrong.”
For so long, she’d held her worries and fears inside, not wanting to burden him. It had become as natural as breathing, no matter that the pain bled through her.
He needs to know,her conscience urged.If you don’t tell him, you’ll lose him.And God above, she couldn’t bear to think of it.
“I’m afraid,” she said softly.
He turned back to her and the look on his face was a mixture of anger and hurt. “Afraid of what?”
“Of losing this child.” She dug her fingers against the stone table, forcing herself to look at him. She let him see the raw grief, the despair that she’d carried over the past two years.
But still Alex didn’t move. He was waiting for her to tell him more and she fumbled for the words. “I’m so tired,” she confessed. “And I never seem to get enough sleep. The thought of food makes me sick, and I keep getting dizzy. I’ve fainted many times and I’ve never felt this way before. Not with any other pregnancy.”
She spilled out her fears and, at last, confessed, “I haven’t felt the child move. I’m afraid this bairn is already dead inside of me.” The tears spilled over her cheeks and when he saw them, he took a few steps closer. He knelt down before her, resting his hands on either side of the bench.
In his eyes, she saw the shadows of his grief. She reached out to him, putting her arms around his neck. The warm male skin gave her comfort, and his arms tightened around her.
“I didn’t want you to grieve,” she whispered. “I don’t know if I’ll lose the child or not. But I didn’t want to burden you.”
He pulled back, anguish in his eyes. “You’re my wife. Not a burden.” His hands pressed away the tears, framing her face. “When David died, you wouldn’t talk to me for days.” His emotions spilled over and he added, “It wasn’t only a son I lost that night. I lost you.”
She was shaking, her grief rising up and overflowing. “I blamed myself for his death. Every night I wondered what I’d done wrong. Why he was taken from us.” Laren buried her face in his shoulder, not caring that she was dampening his tunic with her tears. “I couldn’t be with you when it was my fault.”
“Do you think I believed that?” He leaned in close, his cheek touching hers.
“I believed it.” She swallowed back the tears, trying to find a strength inside. “When we had Adaira, I couldn’t sleep for the first year. I kept waking up, watching her breathe.”
“I never blamed you. Never.” His mouth came to hers in a kiss that offered absolution. “Everything will be all right with this child, Laren. I’ll take care of you.”
She turned around, resting her palms upon his chest. “I want to believe it.”
“Lie down,” he urged. “Rest, and I’ll watch over you.”
Laren obeyed, and as she lay upon her side, he rubbed her back and shoulders. She felt herself slipping beneath the spell of his hands, the weariness dragging her under. Though she knew she shouldn’t close her eyes, shouldn’t succumb to the intense relaxation of his hands, she couldn’t resist for a few moments.
The heaviness of her need swept her down until she fell asleep at last.
Whensheawoke,itwas dark outside. Alex had covered her up with a blanket, and she didn’t know where it had come from. Likely he’d returned to the fortress to fetch it for her, along with the food he’d brought.
