Watching as Iain directed his men in preparing to leave, Islaen sighed and struggled to hide her hurt. He had Muircraig to retreat to again. She had had all winter to reach him but had failed. It was difficult not to wonder if she reached for the unattainable.
"Come, Islaen, dinnae look so dowie. He doesnae go to war, only to Muircraig,” Robert said quietly as he put an arm around her.
"Aye, to Muircraig. I grow to hate that place."
"At least ‘tis not a woman."
"Nay, but it may as weel be."
"I wish I kenned what to tell ye, how to make it better."
She smiled at him. “So do I. Och, weel, dinnae fash yourself. This is what I wanted. If ‘tis not all I want or need ‘tis my worry. No one can mend it for me. I must do that myself or learn to live with what I have. When all is said and done, I have more than many anither. I fear I am just greedy."
"Nay, not greedy. Ye reach for what we all do. Dinnae cease to reach, Islaen. Someday ye shall look to find it in your grasp.” He kissed her cheek. “Patience, dearling. He is a good mon and I ken he ne'er means to hurt you. ‘Tis all that keeps me from beating him."
She laughed softly, then frowned. “Just why do ye travel to Muircraig, Robert?"
"Many reasons, my wee suspicious sister. The sure way to keep you happy is to keep Iain alive so I go to protect him. I also go to have something to do other than lurking about keeping watch. There is work at Muircraig. And, finally, I go to see that, while he sorts himself out, he doesnae get tempted into erring against you. That Maura and Lady Mary lurk nearby. I dinnae think the first is any threat for she is newly betrothed and sounds a woman wise enough to take what is certain and discard the gamble. Lady Mary is different. I dinnae trust the wench. Iain I trust but he is but a mon, a troubled mon."
"Aye, weel, take care, Robert.” She did not want to think about Lady Mary, who may not have been fully deterred by Iain's rejection at court, so she turned her attention to her husband as he approached her and Robert discreetly left. “Ye have fine weather."
"Verra fine. I pray it holds. ‘Tis good weather to work in."
"Ye will be careful, Iain?” she said softly, grasping his hand.
Taking her hand to his lips, he smiled faintly. “I take as many warriors as workers and craftsmen. Dinnae fash yourself loving."
"'Tis easier said than done. Will ye stay away long?” she asked quietly, then cursed herself for the weakness that prompted the question.
"There is much work to be done. I dinnae wish to be left with work to do when winter returns again."
"Nay, of course not."
"Ye take care, Islaen.” He lightly kissed her. “I will pray for our wee lass,” he added softly, then abruptly left her.
Islaen watched until Iain could no longer be seen, then, with a heavy sigh, turned to go back into the keep. She found herself wishing that Alexander had not made such a fleeting visit, then cursed herself. Her friends and kin could not be made to fill the place her husband left empty in her life. It was wrong and, in Alexander's case, perhaps a little cruel. There were other ways to fill the days without making demands upon friends and kin. The emptiness Iain left was not something they could ever fill anyway. They could only deter the pain it caused and it was past time that she learned to manage that on her own.
She made her way to the nursery to find Grizel and Liusadh. At first she had been reluctant, almost afraid, to see her little daughter. Islaen realized she did not want to grow too fond of the baby when the child's life was still so uncertain. Once she faced that, she stopped trying to protect herself. She knew little would ease the loss of a child, even one considered doomed from birth, just as she knew she would deeply regret not coming to know her child for however long God decided to let the baby survive.
Smiling crookedly, Islaen watched Grizel take the baby from the blanket sling Liusadh rarely left. She might come to know her daughter, but Islaen doubted Liusadh would take much notice of her. It hurt a little but, if Grizel's constant care and love let the child live, it would be worth it. Indeed, not having Liusadh's full love seemed a small sacrifice if Liusadh gained a full life.
"She is verra tiny,” Islaen said softly as she gazed down at the child she held. “'Tis as if she is but newborn."
"Och, weel, after holding those two bonnie laddies I suspicion she would feel so, but she's agrowing, m'lady."
"Strange, is it not, that she doesnae look as the lads do? In truth she is just the opposite. They have my hair but Iain's eyes and she has Iain's hair but my eyes. Ye would think they would each resemble the other.” She gently touched Liusadh's dark curls.
"M'lord Tavis's twins dinnae look exact alike. They too are mixed about. Yet, when they are side by side there is a sameness. She will be a bonnie lass, m'lady. Do ye,” Grizel cleared her throat. “Do ye wish to have the care of her now?"
"Nay, I still cannae give her all she needs. We are verra fortunate to have ye, Grizel. A bairn like this needs constant warmth and food. She would ne'er survive if she had to fight her brothers for it. I but hope she will understand when she grows."
"Aye, she will, m'lady. I will be sure she does. And grow she will, m'lady,” Grizel vowed softly but vehemently.
"I begin to believe she will. Best ye take her back. There is still the bite of cold to the air, the threat of a chill.” As she watched her daughter disappear into the sling across Grizel's ample bosom, Islaen whispered, “Another month and my fears for her will ease."
Outside of the nursery she met Storm who immediately asked, “How fares Liusadh? All is well?"
"Aye,” Islaen replied as she started towards her chambers. “If ye see worry upon my face tis but the fear that that will change."
