No matter what happens to me.
His wife reached down to him and guided him back up to look at her. “You speak as if you’re not coming back.”
He couldn’t lie to her about this. Instead, he caressed her cheek, looking steadily into her eyes. “I will do anything to send her back to you.”
“Don’t make me choose,” she ordered. “Don’t ever make me choose between your life or Adaira’s.” Her voice was trembling, and she closed her eyes, pressing her mouth to his palm.
“It won’t come to that.” Especially if there was no choice to be made. Any father would willingly sacrifice himself for his child. Just as Tavin had surrendered his own life for Bram.
When he was a boy, he hadn’t understood it. He’d been the one to find his mother raging over her husband’s body. He’d looked into his father’s sightless eyes, unable to understand why Tavin had taken the sword that was meant for his brother.
Now he did. And though he planned to do everything possible to survive this, he understood the risk.
“Do you think she’s alive?” The torment upon Laren’s face carved itself into his heart. He held her close, not wanting to see her anguish.
“She’s alive. Harkirk will use her to get to us.” But he didn’t doubt that Harkirk would relish the opportunity to kill Adaira in front of him. The thought numbed his heart while Laren’s tears dampened his tunic.
“Be careful.” Her words were below a whisper, hardly there at all. Then she was kissing him with desperation.
He tasted the salt of her tears, trying to be the strength she needed right now. She touched his tongue with hers, seeking him, her hands moving beneath his clothing.
As she drew back the layers that separated them, he helped her until they both lay skin to skin. He felt the transformation in her body, the lushness and beauty of her. Though her waist held only a slight bump, her breasts were fuller.
Her arms wound around his neck, and he rubbed his hands down her spine, to her lower back. “You give me a reason to come back,a ghràidh.”
And when she pulled him down to love her, he savored every touch, every moment. Knowing it might be their last night together.
Laren’seyesweredryafter Alex rode away from Glen Arrin. He had taken her back home this morn, but it was impossible to get through the day, when her heart was with her husband and daughter. She wished now that she’d sent Adaira with Mairin to be fostered—at least then her baby would be safe. Her desire to have a little more time with Adaira had resulted in a terrible nightmare.
She couldn’t even work with her glass anymore. Though it had once been an escape, she’d lost her desire to create. Laren spent the first day inside the keep, going through the motions of her duties. When she sat at the wooden trestle table, blue and gold lights shone upon her hands. She looked up and saw that Ross had arranged for one of her windows to be mounted within the keep. The image of the Madonna and Child rested high above them, the sunlight spilling through the colors. The emptiness was sinking deeper, the despair shadowing every aspect of her life.
Nairna came to spend time with her later that afternoon, and from the happiness on her face, Laren guessed what the woman was going to say. It made her more determined not to upset her by revealing where Bram and Alex had gone.
“It’s been nearly two months,” Nairna said, her voice holding excitement. She rested a hand over her middle, the fervent hope giving her smile a warm glow. “But I haven’t been sick at all. Do you think I could be wrong?”
“Some women aren’t ill,” Laren said. “You may be one of the fortunate ones.” She rested her hand upon her own swelling womb, understanding Nairna’s joy. “But I think, yes, you’ll be holding a bairn in your arms, come the winter.”
Nairna burst into tears and hugged her. Laren moved over on the bench, unable to stand up to return the embrace. “It’s all right. I know you’ve wanted this for a long time.”
“I can’t seem to stop crying,” Nairna wailed. “And I know I should be happy.”
“It doesn’t take much to make a pregnant woman cry.” Her own eyes dimmed with tears, the worry rising up. She wanted to be with Alex right now, despite the danger. Though he had men of his own and the MacLachors, it wasn’t enough. He’d known it when he’d spent their last night together.
Something snapped inside of her. Why was she sitting here, waiting for them to die? She’d always hung back, letting others make decisions for her. And if she did nothing, they weren’t going to come back.
A sudden fire pushed through her. She didn’t have to stay here. They did have other allies. And though she didn’t know the other clans that well, she had silver pieces left over from the window she’d sold.
She could hire men to help Alex and the others. A surge of energy pushed through her and she rose to her feet. She would start by traveling to speak with Kameron MacKinnon, Lord of Locharr. He’d been a friend and ally in the past. Surely he could grant her a dozen men to help Alex.
“What’s wrong?” Nairna asked. “Are you feeling all right?
Laren ventured a smile. “Aye.” She had a purpose now, to secure defenses for the men and help them. All she had to do was assume her true role as Lady of Glen Arrin, lifting her courage to do what had to be done.
“I need to speak with Grizel.” The older matron had a special friendship with Kameron MacKinnon. It was likely that she would go with Laren to speak with the Baron.
Nairna sent her a worried look. “If you’re wanting to speak with Grizel, then clearly you’re not feeling well at all.”
Laren only smiled.
