“Oh, and he feared he would go mad and didnae want ye to be with him when he did.”
“That is what I think and, if I am right, there is naught I can do. The cure for that fear must come from him.”
“Elen still misses him. So does Reid, I think, but he is already such a little mon, he hides it.”
Ilsabeth nodded. She had seen Reid up on the walls at times, just staring out into the distance. She knew he was hoping to see Simon ride up. What Reid did not know was that, if that happened now after two months with no word, she would have the doors locked against him. A simple change of his mind was not enough to make up for the pain he had caused her and the utter silence she had endured for two months.
“Ah, there are my girls,” said Elspeth as she hurried into the room with some flowers in a jug. “Something to sweeten the air.”
“But, it doesnae need sweetening. I just cleaned in here,” protested Ilsabeth.
“Aye, but it takes a wee bit more to fully get rid of the scent of a woman getting sick every morning.”
It took Ilsabeth a full minute to understand what her mother had just said. “Oh, bollocks.” She was certain she heard her mother laugh, but the face the woman turned toward her was an utterly serious one. “It was something I ate.” She frowned in confusion. Had her mother just saidlucky Simon?
Elspeth sat on the edge of the bed and stroked Ilsabeth’s tangled hair. “Ye need to cease working so hard. Whate’er else happens or is said, there is one thing that must concern ye above all others–the health of the bairn ye carry. It was Simon Innes, wasnae it?”
“Aye.” There was no point in lying to her mother. “I love him. He might love me, but he fears he will go raving mad just like his brother.”
“Are ye sure he is the one?”
“I was sure the moment I saw him and felt the fire in my blood. He was trying to brush cat hair off himself. He has a cat he hasnae named yet. A stray he fed who refuses to leave the house. I thought that was a good sign although a better one would be if he named the poor beastie. He also had no trouble taking in Elen and Reid.
“And yet where is my perfect man? At Lochancorrie worrying that he will catch his brother’s madness.”
“That will pass, dear, and ‘tis no small worry. We have had a few in our family and I am sure your father can tell ye a tale or two of some in his. Not all madness comes down through the blood. In truth, I am nay sure all that many do. But, nay matter how sensible a person, the mere thought of being inflicted by madness can terrify him. It is a frightening thing to see and I heard that Henry Innes’s was terrifying.”
“Aye, it was that. Such viciousness and all done just because he wanted to do it, enjoyed it. Some how that type of brutality when there isnae really anger there, that calm, cold butchery, is more terrifying than rants and rages. And, he made Simon so enraged that I fear Simon saw that as a bad sign instead of a sign that he had never resolved things from his past, and I dinnae ken how one talks a mon out of such thoughts.” She scowled. “Especially when said mon is staying verra far away.”
Elspeth nodded and stood up, then leaned down and kissed Ilsabeth on the cheek. “I am going to tell your father....”
“Oh, nay, Maman.”
“Oh, aye, daughter. So if ye hear a lot of yelling, cries ofI will kill the rutting bastardand the like, just ignore them. I will get him settled and then we can talk about this like sensible people.”
Several hours later, Ilsabeth sat in the great hall with just her parents and watched her father pace the room muttering dire threats against Simon Innes. He did not look very settled or sensible to her. Her mother, however, just sat in a chair near the fire and did her mending.
“I think it is a little late to be lopping off that part of the mon, my heart,” murmured Elspeth when Cormac Armstrong muttered a particularly bloodthirsty threat against Simon. “And, just think, if she and the fool do get married as I think they ought and really want to, she will miss it.”
The look of horror on her father’s face at the thought of her enjoying that part of Simon made Ilsabeth giggle. She hastily swallowed the sound when he glared at her. No, her father was not feeling very sensible and settled at all.
“They will be married,” he said firmly. “I willnae have any grandchild of mine marked as a bastard.”
“ ‘Tis still early days yet,” said Elspeth.
“How early?” he asked, and stared at Ilsabeth’s stomach.
“Two months.” Ilsabeth suddenly recalled exactly where she was two months ago.
Elspeth sat up straight and frowned at her daughter. “What is that strange look on your face? Ye look absolutely horrified.”
Ilsabeth refused to believe that her child had been conceived in a prison cell so she frantically counted back several times. Each time the answer came out the same. Her baby had been conceived in the dungeons at the king’s keep.
“Oh, bollocks.” This time Ilsabeth was certain she heard her father choke on a laugh but when she looked at him, his expression was one of the utmost seriousness.
“Something wrong?” he asked. “Might it be exactly where ye were when the child was conceived?”
She had the sinking feeling her father knew. “It might be.”
