“Does it hurt?” she asked, sitting up straighter in alarm, as if ready to rush to Lydia’s rescue. With everything that was happening, Iris seemed to be far more worried than usual, fretting over the smallest things when it came to Lydia now.
“Nay,” Lydia said quickly, then softened her tone. “Nay, nothin’ like that. I just… forget sometimes. And then I remember.”
Her lips curved into a small, uncertain smile. Iris’ expression melted, worry giving way to something gentler. She shifted closer, lowering herself onto the arm of Lydia’s chair so they were nearly touching.
“It’s still early,” she said. “Ye’re nae showin’ yet. But when ye do, it will be difficult to forget.”
Lydia let out a soft laugh, nodding in agreement. “Och aye, I suppose that’s true.”
Silence settled between them, warm and comfortable. Lydia leaned into her sister’s side, seeking whatever comfort she could get from her, a sigh escaping her. It was so heavy that her shoulders sagged, some of the tension finally bleeding out of her body.
In that fragile silence, a confession ripped itself from her.
“I’m afraid to hope too much.”
Iris pulled back just enough to look at her. She was sporting a frown, her concern etched clearly into her features.
“What do ye mean?”
Lydia drew a deep, shaky breath. She didn’t even know what it was, precisely, that she meant.
“I mean… with everythin’ that has happened, I fear that somethin’ will finally go terribly wrong. Too wrong for any of us to fix it.”
There were so many unknowns, so many things that they surely hadn’t considered. With every passing moment Elijah spent out there, with every minute that kept Kieran away, doubt crept further and further into Lydia’s mind, weighing her down and threatening to pull her into a panic.
“Ye daenae have to think about any of this,” Iris said. “Elijah will take care of everythin’, Lydia. He always does.”
“But Sebastian… he has done everythin’ in his power to hurt me. Both me and the bairn,” Lydia said. “And I daenae think he will stop, Iris. He willnae stop unless he is stopped by someone else.”
Iris grabbed her hand in hers, holding it tightly. “He will be,” she promised her. “Come now… ye ken Elijah would never let anythin’ happen to yer bairn, and neither would Kieran. Nay matter what has happened between the two of ye, he will fight for ye. He will fight for this bairn.”
Outside, thunder boomed again, closer this time, making the candles on the side table tremble and gutter. Shadows danced along the walls. Lydia watched them, the sight of them more frightening than it had ever been before.
Iris sat up a little straighter next to her, a small smile dancing on her lips.
“Tell me, have ye thought about the bairn at all? Do ye want a laddie or a lass?”
Lydia let out a chuckle which, though half-hearted, was enough to lift her spirits a little. She placed her hand on her stomach once more, wondering at the life that was taking form inside her ever so slowly.
“I daenae ken what I want,” Lydia confessed, staring down at her hand. “Sometimes I think… maybe a lass. Someone kind. Someone who loves books and gardens.” Her voice wavered, just for a moment, memory rushing back to her, emotion threatening to undo her. “Someone I can protect better than I protected ye.”
Iris reached out, placing her hand gently over Lydia’s. Hers was warm, steady, just as solid as the rest of her. Iris had always been her protector. Even now, she was the only one on whom she could depend.
“Lydia,” she said, firmly but not unkindly, “ye daenae owe me a lifetime of penance.”
“I ken,” Lydia whispered. “Ye’ve told me that.”
Iris had, in fact, told her plenty of times. It was Lydia who couldn’t listen—wouldn’t. The guilt still threatened to consume her whole, and now that she would bring a life to the world, she desperately feared she would make the same mistake.
If she couldn’t protect her sister, if she had been so blind to it all, who was to say she could protect someone far more helpless?
“And yet ye still punish yerself.”
Lydia lifted her gaze. Iris’ eyes were soft but unyielding as they always had been. There was no accusation in them, only truth.
“I just want to do somethin’ right,” Lydia said. “For once. If it’s a laddie, I hope he’s brave but gentle. Like Elijah. Or…” She hesitated, the name catching painfully in her chest. “Or like Kieran.”
Iris’s brows rose slightly, but she said nothing, allowing the silence to stretch.
