Before Robert could ask her any of the dozens of questions that filled his mind, Craig erupted into a sobbing cry that told them both of his hunger. Anice clenched her arms over her chest and her face was filled with embarrassment—her body was answering the babe’s call for food and the milk leaking from her breasts quickly dampened her blouse. Turning away once he settled Craig on her lap, Robert built a fire so he could prepare them a meal. A few minutes later, he returned to her with a cup of watered ale. Although she accepted the cup with mumbled thanks, she would not meet his gaze. It was obvious to him that she was avoiding explanations, so he thought to start the conversation for her.
“Once the babe is fed and ye are feeling stronger, I will escort ye both back to Dunnedin.”
Her terrified sob echoed through the forest around them and caused the babe to let go and scream his own displeasure and fear at being disturbed. His gaze was drawn to the babe, who settled down quickly, and to the intense sounds created by his tiny but hungry mouth on her... breast. He did not intend to look there, but he could not stop staring. As his mind filled, unbidden, with images and desires, welcome or not, he forced himself to his feet and away from her.
“Finish with the bairn and we will talk,” he called back as he walked over to the horses. Leading them to the stream, he watched as they drank their fill.
Robert berated himself for his foolish reaction to Anice nursing her son. He’d seen many women doing that and never thought twice about it. Mothers fed their children, and when mothers could not, or would not in the case of most noblewomen, a wet nurse did it for her. So why did the sight of that wee bairn sucking at his mother’s breast make himbreathless? Because, and he realized the deep truth of it even as the thought came to him, he wanted to be the one at her breast. Sucking for the pleasure of it, sucking to make her ready for him, to make him ready for her.
He shifted as he stood, feeling that part of him that ached to be inside her grow as his thoughts continued. Moving his gaze to the cool waters passing by did nothing to abate the fierce desire he felt for her now. This power she had to steer his thoughts to things he could not have was uncanny. He’d thought that leaving would end it. Now, she was here and all progress he’d made in his first day away from her was gone.
The horses raised their heads, indicating their thirst was quenched, so he led them back to his camp. Anice now lay on the ground, facing away from him. He walked nearer to her to check on her.
“Anice? Are ye well?”
“Aye,” she answered in almost a whisper.
“Haes the lad finished?”
“Nay, Rob. I grew too dizzy to sit up and hold him. This way works better for both of us.” She looked over her shoulder at him as she spoke.
“I will have some porridge ready for ye soon—do ye feel up to eating?”
“Aye. Something in my belly sounds good to me now. In a short while?”
He nodded and went back to the small fire a few yards away. Taking out his cooking pan, his bag of oats, and his waterskin, he heated some water and added oats to it, cooking it until it formed a loose mix. He scooped the first batch into his cup and ate it. Once Anice had finished with her son and laid him on the plaid next to her, he made another batch and took it to her. She shifted to her side and nodded to him. He moved away once more and cleaned the pan and secured his supplies back in his saddlebags.
The tension began to build within him as he quenched the fire and finished all the tasks he could possibly do without finally talking to her. His horse was ready to leave. All he needed to do was to discover the reason she was here and when she would be ready to return to Dunnedin. He sat down on theground near the remnants of the fire and waited. Soon only the babe’s soft cooing and hiccups could be heard.
Anice slid back until she reached a place where a tree supported her back while she sat. Something was wrong with her ankle, she could feel how stiff and swollen it had become, but she would not think about that now. Leaning her throbbing head against the trunk, she wondered how to begin. How could she explain the madness that had sent her out into the wilderness to find him and seek out his help? He had already done so much, even though his displeasure was clear in every move he made and word he said. She suspected that he and Struan had not parted well and Robert was in haste to return to a more welcoming place.
“Did you offer your protection to me that night that you helped in Craig’s birth?” she asked.
The memory of his words had come back to her as she stood in her room, rocking the babe and desperately trying to come up with a way out of her predicament. Ye have my protection, lass. Until the bairn is born and after. As long as ye need it, I will give it. She had mistaken him for Struan in her confused state of mind, but she knew the words had come from Robert. A clear image of his face and the memory of the sound of the words on his lips filled her.
“Anice, ye thought I was Struan. Ye were near to death.” He dragged his hands through his hair as he spoke. “I said what ye needed to hear.”
Then it was as she thought. She was doomed now to lose her son and all that she’d known and worked for these last many years. And, if this MacLaren heir turned out to be anything like Sandy, she would probably lose her life as well.
One wife of his was already in her grave—who knew the how or why of it.
She looked at her son as he lay near her, trying to catch the tiny dust motes in the air in his little fists, and fought to retain the control she could feel slipping. Pulling in a shaky breath, she tried to form the words she needed.
“Then you cannot help me?”
“Help ye in what, Anice? Protect ye from what or who?” His gazed drilled into her. He would expect answers from her.Would hers stir him to reject the wishes of his laird’s? Or would he follow in the blind obedience of most men? He stood up and began pacing in front of her as she tried to form her explanation in her mind.
“Struan and my father have made a plan together. ’Twould seem that I still have some value as my father’s only daughter. He even now negotiates a contract with the MacLaren to wed me to his heir.”
Robert stopped and looked at her, his shock clear in his eyes.
“But ye have already married and ye have a son.”
“Oh, aye, a son, A son who will be left behind to be raised by his father’s family.” A ragged sob tore free from her. “Struan haes offered to let me keep him for a few months after my marriage to help me settle into my new life.”
“When?” he asked.
“Since the MacLaren’s heir haes just lost his first wife, they will wait until summer next to finish the bargain.” Sarcasm filled her voice. “Struan assures me that should be sufficient time to wean him and see to his care.” She nodded at Craig, who had fallen asleep. Her little piglet, content and with a full belly, snored lightly, unaware of the turmoil around him.
