Chapter Twenty-one
One small miracle was efficiently stopped from pulling on her brother Morogh's hair by Grizel, the woman Islaen felt almost fully responsible for her small daughter's survival, God and Wallace taking the rest of the credit. Liusadh was still tiny but she was very much alive, striving as hard as her brothers to throw off the dependency of infancy. Islaen was so pleased to have her daughter alive and growing that she felt little jealousy about the way Liusadh turned so often to Grizel rather than her mother.
Grizel had followed Wallace's instructions for plenty of warmth and food with a vengeance. Islaen often mused that, until just recently, Liusadh had seemed permanently attached to Grizel's ample bosom. Not only had Grizel carried the child next to her warmth with a blanket sling all day, but she had slept with the child at night to further thwart the damp and the chill. Islaen felt Grizel's grief over her own dead child had turned into an iron determination that Liusadh would live.
Islaen scowled out the window thinking of Iain. She knew full well that Muircraig was no ruin, yet Iain was working long enough hours to have built it from the first stone up. Either that or she would find herself moved into a place fit for a king.
"Does he not plan to return here this night?” asked Storm, breaking into Islaen's less than kind thoughts about her beloved husband.
"Aye, he will return to eat a hearty meal, quaff a few tankards of ale, then collapse upon his bed to snore the night away."
"His bed? He still sleeps apart from ye?” Storm's voice echoed the incredulity written upon her face.
"Quite apart,” Islaen said mournfully. “An his own chambers are too close, he runs to that cursed keep.” She looked down at her figure, then at Storm. “I cannae see that I have changed since having the bairns."
"Nay, ye were back to yourself long ago."
"Then what is it? There must be some reason."
"Mayhaps he fears ye will get with child again too soon."
"That isnae it, for I plan to use those things. I dinnae want to bear a bairn a year. If they come I willnae pine but I cannae see any wrong in resting a wee bit.” Islaen grimaced. “Especially an I am to bear three at a time."
"Does Iain know you feel so?"
"Aye. I told him that. An I had born naught but a girl I might have tried again quickly for a son, but there isnae any need for that. In one sitting I have given him an heir and anither son as surety. Nay, Iain cannae be afeard of that."
After a moment of deep mutual thought Storm saw Islaen pale suddenly. “What ails ye, Islaen?"
"Ye dinnae think he has a woman, do ye? Mayhaps at Muircraig even?"
"Nay,” Storm replied confidently. “These MacLagan men have their faults but they are faithful. As long as the wife warms the bed they will not stray or, at least, not willingly. They are not the sort to keep a mistress. Ye have not turned Iain from your bed?"
"He turns himself from it. I am willing near to shamelessness. Ye forget, though, that he didnae want to wed me."
"T'was not ye but any woman and well you know it. He did not wish to bury another wife. Ye have eased his fear there. Nay, I will not believe it of Iain, an only because he ne'er was the wencher his brothers were and are. If Tavis can be faithful, then Iain certainly can."
Islaen's fears were not so easily put to rest. “I disobeyed him. It could turn him away."
"He understood that, Islaen. I heard him forgive ye with my own ears. Ye need not worry on that count."
She did not want to worry that there was another woman for it tied her stomach into agonizing knots but neither could she put the thought completely aside. Word had come through the usual extensive chain of gossip that Mary was indeed at home and still unwed.
Telling herself that it was wrong to distrust him did not help. He had loved Mary. Though it hurt to admit it, he did not love her. One turning away from Mary's freely offered charms did not mean that he would consistently reject the woman. His sense of honor would surely weaken in favor of his heart's dictates.
Recalling his disillusionment that night did not help either. That could fade. The memory of a love shared could make him doubt his opinion. Mary was one who could make full and quick use of that doubt. The woman was one of those who could easily appear innocent no matter how guilty she was. She was also a woman who learned from her errors and would be careful to hold her temper so as not to expose her real nature and aims to Iain a second time. Mary was also one of those women who could sorely tempt a man no matter how he felt about her and Iain had been nearly six months without a woman, if he had been faithful.
"Which isnae my fault,” Islaen thought angrily. She had been more than willing to share his bed again. Once healed from the birth of their children she had gently hinted such to Iain. He seemed oblivious to hints.
She tried to put those thoughts out of her head but it proved impossible. As she lay awake in her lonely bed she found herself wondering if Iain's was as lonely. It seemed impossible that a man as lusty as Iain could go so long without a woman. She was finding it painfully difficult to go so long without him. For a week she tortured herself with thoughts of Iain having a lover, then sought out Storm for advice. There had to be something she could do.
Finding Storm working in her garden, Islaen sat down on one of the rough benches Storm had had placed there. The flowers were blooming and their sweet scent was refreshing. Islaen could see why even the men no longer teased Storm for planting what many thought was frivolous. It was peaceful and soothing to sit among nature's beauty.
"I have a problem, Storm,” she said abruptly, not wanting to be wooed by the garden into forgetting her purpose for coming.
"I did wonder. Ye are looking wan as if something preys upon your mind."
"Aye, Iain."
