Chapter Nineteen
Biting her lip, Islaen fought against crying out when a strong contraction gripped her. It had been fairly easy so far but she realized it would soon be impossible to hide the fact that she was in labor, and had been since the very early morning. She could only hope that there were not many hours left. It was important to keep Iain from knowing for as long as possible. A glance towards her husband told Islaen that that might not be so easy. He was staring at her and paying little attention to what his brother and father were saying.
He had stared at her a lot lately and she knew it was not all from a fascination with how big she had grown during the last stages of her pregnancy. Her impish sense of humour had reared its head too often, but she had consistently beaten down the urge to do something silly, pull some prank. Iain was in no state of mind to find it funny. He would never understand that his staring had prompted her, would probably think her cruel beyond words.
Another was watching her closely and Meg leaned nearer to mutter, “Will ye nay seek your bed now, lass?"
Smiling faintly, Islaen shook her head. Meg helped in every way she could and Islaen was grateful to her. Without Meg's help, many of the minor troubles and ills of pregnancy could never have been hidden from Iain. In the past few months Islaen had come to see, more clearly than ever before, that Meg cared for her. It had been a great source of comfort, especially as she had adjusted to new kin, new surroundings and the loss of her large, boisterous family.
"Nay,” Islaen replied softly. “An I maun, I will have the bairn upon this cursed settle rather than make Iain wait through a minute of labor."
"'Tis mad ye are,” Meg grumbled, her keen eyes seeing another contraction grip Islaen. “Keep that bit o’ cloth ye are making a muckle great mess of o'er your belly. ‘Tis easy tae see that the bairn tries to get out."
Islaen smiled. “I suspicioned that it might be. If Wallace is right, I still have time left me."
Meg made a rude noise but softly. “Ye are a woman, nay a cow or a mare nor a cursed ewe."
"I ken ye dinnae like to hear it said but their way of birthing is as ours save quieter. I learned a lot."
"T'was no place for a lady, mucking about in the stables. Those pains are coming muckle close togither now, lass."
"Aye, but not close enough yet. Ye ken that as weel as I do, Meg. Dinnae pinch at me so."
"When will ye confess your trickery, lass?"
"I plan to tell him when I hand him a healthy, squalling bairn."
That confession worried her more than the ordeal she faced. In truth, she did not really need to make it. Having forgotten the one time she had had her menses, Iain still felt that their first night together had seeded the child. He had not the slightest suspicion that she had not kept her promise. It was sorely tempting to let matters stand that way but she knew she could not.
Lying was foreign to her although she could never claim to be free of that sin. Lying to Iain had caused her a lot of anguish. She had to confess even if she feared how he would react. The lie was becoming a slow poison to her and she wanted it out of her blood. She could only pray that Iain would understand and forgive her.
She continued to fight the revealing of her labor. The needlework she pretended to work on progressed not at all, but it served to hide the rippling of her contracting belly and gave her something to stare at in the hope that none could read what was happening in her face. She almost welcomed the increased ferocity of the pains and their growing proximity to each other for it meant that her time of birthing drew nearer.
Not all men were ignorant of the various intricacies of birth. Tavis may have missed the birth of his firstborn, but he had more than made up for that with his other children. Although he could not say exactly what made him suspect, he felt more confident with each glance that his brother's tiny wife was in labor. The moment he could do so without stirring Iain's curiosity, Tavis left the table and strolled to where Storm struggled to teach Aingeal needlework. His little daughter was easily sent off for she had little liking for the lessons.
"She will ne'er learn e'en a modest ability if ye keep releasing her from the lessons."
"I ken I will be forgiven this time. Try not to be too obvious about it but have a good look at wee Islaen."
It was not easy to be subtle when her curiosity had been stirred to a fever pitch but Storm managed. What was even harder was to hide her shock as her keen eyes noted all the signs of advanced labor. That she had to look closely to see it made her mentally shake her head in wonder. She knew well how the pains of birth could wrack the body at such a late stage of labor.
"The little fool. What do ye wish me to do?"
"There must be some way to get her up to her chambers without alerting Iain. If she excuses herself, he will be after her and fretting like an old woman. Mayhaps if ye take her off he willnae think on it. The mon's in a verra sad state."
"Aye, poor man. I ken t'would kill him an aught happened to Islaen for I am certain that he loves her, though he is as loathe to admit it as ye e'er were."
Grinning, Tavis kissed his wife's pert nose but then he grew serious. “This wee lass owns his soul though I doubt she kens it and, an Iain does, he isnae saying. Enough of this talk. Get the wee lass up to her bed ere Iain's firstborn comes forth upon that settle."
Islaen silently thanked Storm with her eyes when the woman got them out of the hall on the excuse of looking over some infant clothes and necessities. Once out of the hall, Storm and Meg took turns scolding her as they helped her up the stairs. They were just outside of her chambers door when her waters broke. A terse word from Storm was all that was needed to make the maids share in the secrecy.
The back stairs were used to bring whatever was needed. So too were the back stairs used to take word to Wallace, a circumstance that caused many to wonder, but less so than when Wallace called for a bath. Robert was secretly sent on his way to the MacRoths by the same manner.
The help and support of Storm and Meg was greatly appreciated by Islaen. She was too far gone in her labor to do much for herself when they reached her chambers. The two women efficiently undressed her, helped her into a loose shift and did their best to make her as comfortable as they could, not an easy chore when her body was wracked by pain and she needed all her strength to keep calm and quiet.
For a moment, Islaen found herself angry with Iain. She needed him, his strength and support. Quite naturally, she had her own fears but he was too caught up in his to notice or to aid her in easing them. She had to fight that battle all alone and she was tired of the fight.
Then she silently scolded herself for that brief weakness. Managing it on her own was necessary. Iain was not to blame for his fears. She told herself to accept the lack of his support as the penance for her lie and turned her attention to Storm.
