He did not see the young woman until she nearly knocked him over.
Grabbing hold of her shoulders, he managed to stay on his feet on the slippery path there and keep her upright as well. When she raised her head, he did not recognize her.
“Are ye well, mistress?” he asked, studying her face. Tears yet streamed down her young face, and she nodded as she pulled from his grasp.
“Ask her to have a care for him, sir,” she whispered as she threw a glance over her shoulder towards Robena’s cottage. “There is no one else I can turn to. No one I would trust with him,” she said before she turned and ran away into the darkness between the roads and cottages there.
Iain watched for some sight of her, but he could not see her now. Only when he walked closer to the door did he see the bundle lying there on the ground. Robena opened her door andwatched his approach. The faint cry echoed into the stillness of the night as the packet at her feet moved and shook.
“Iain? What is this?” She fell to her knees there and picked up the wrapped bundle and realized what she held. “What in all that is holy . . . ?”
“I dinna ken.” Iain had a suspicion, and he walked back to the gate and peered into the shadows looking for the young woman. He shrugged. “She left him and ran off.”
“Who?” Robena asked as she loosened the coverings and revealed a wee bairn inside the bundle.
“Take him inside,” he urged. “He will catch his death of cold outside on a night like this.”
Iain helped her to her feet and they went inside, closing the door against the cold. Robena placed the bairn on the table and loosened the woolen blankets, revealing a babe who could not be more than a few days old. The bairn’s tiny wrinkled face eased for a moment before he let loose a strong and full cry. Just as quickly, Robena wrapped him back up, swaddling him with an expert hand and lifting the babe to her shoulder.
“Who would do such a thing, Iain?” she asked as she held the bairn close and patted his back. Iain watched as Robena shushed the wee thing and rocked it in her embrace and understood what had happened.
“She said to ask ye to have a care for him. That she could turn to no one else but ye, Robena.” The dumbstruck expression on her face must have matched his own, for the implications were unbelievable.
“Someone left her bairn on my doorstep?”
Iain walked to her and gathered them both in his embrace. He kissed her then, hoping she realized the importance of this selfless gesture. In giving her son to Robena, this young woman told her of her value. Of her worth. Of her abilities.
“Someone trusted ye to care for the child she could not keep.” He kissed her then and wiped the tears she did not know she shed from her cheeks. “Will ye believe me now, my love? That others see in ye what ye cannot see in yerself? What I see in ye?”
Robena shook her head. He could see her struggle to accept this truth.
“Take my hand, Robena. Take my love. I ken ye are frightened, but surely ye will have the faith that others have in ye to try?”
The bairn let out a sleepy sigh and Robena stared at the rosebud mouth and thick thatch of dark hair on his head.
“Ye see, the fates sent ye a message this night. A dark-haired . . . male . . . was first over yer door for the new year. And in case that is not enough, I brought along bread,” he said as he pulled the chunk out of his pocket. “Surely this is a sign that ye will have good fortune in the coming year.”
He held his hand out then, hoping that she could take it.
Robena staredat his hand and the few steps between them and wondered if she would take hold of him. It would take less effort to reach for him than it would to resist, but something held her back.
Was he also correct about this being a sign? The bairn let out a burp and nestled against her chest then, settling down in her arms. He did not seem to care that she was a whore. His mother had not cared, for her words to Iain had made it clear that the woman knew who lived within, and who would see to her son. A stranger in need, who had sought out Robena’s protection for her child; it touched her heart and gave her a glimmer of hope in an improbable future.
Could it be that she was resisting Iain and his offer for another reason?
Robena had not hidden away from the truths of her life and her unsuitability for him. She’d argued it and accepted it, but no one else seemed to. And she’d not kept anything secret from him—he knew her as few did, the good with the bad. She glanced at his outstretched hand before meeting his gaze.
Love filled his eyes.
In spite of what she did, in spite of her limitations, he loved her. And she knew that she loved him, deeply and without expectations. So, what did she need to do to accept his offer? Trust him. Trust that he understood what they would face. Trust that he would stand by her. Trust that his offer was an honest one.
Her throat tightened, even as her heart pounded in her chest. Though she might doubt herself and her worthiness, he never did. Gazing into his eyes, she knew in that moment that she trusted him. Trusted his word. Trusted his love.
How could she not trust herself, then?
“Aye, Iain. I cannot fight the fates . . . and ye,” she said. She took his hand. His blue eyes flared at her words as he closed his fingers around hers and tugged her close, the bairn held between them. “If ye still want to marry me—us—I will.”
“Oh aye, I would take ye as my wife, my love,” he said.
