Hew’s heart was in his throat.Bracing himself for the worst, he finally dared to break the silence.“What news?”he croaked.
“Och,” the maidservant said, exhaling in relief.“Nothin’.Lady Carenza is fine.I only came downstairs to get a wee bite.”
After a collective sigh, the conversation in the great hall resumed.
Deirdre busied Dunlop with discussions of King Malcolm and the border and the English, which helped to keep his fears for his daughter at bay.
Logan caught Hew up on all the news from home, allaying his own worries.
Jenefer, Hallie, and Feiyan chatted with the Dunlop warriors, comparing weaponry and battle tactics.
Isabel nagged Hew for details about their romantic adventures.He finally told her some things were better left to the imagination.
The day dragged on and on.Food was brought out.Ale was poured.Some of the servants who had risen early for Martinmas napped along the wall and beside the fire.
Hallie wandered up to Hew.“How are you holding up, cousin?”
“I didn’t expect ’twould take so long,” he murmured.
“Nay?”
“I wish she didn’t have to suffer so.”He tapped the scroll against his thigh.
Hallie paused, frowning down at the document.“She doesn’t know about that, does she?”
“The marriage decree?Nay.”
She arched a brow.“I have an idea.”
She took the scroll from him and made her way across the hall and up the stairs.
Of course, he realized.Carenza might never admit it, but as someone who had been raised to be a perfect laird’s daughter, she was probably reluctant to give birth to a bastard child.Perhaps seeing the marriage decree, signed and sealed by the king, would relieve her conscience and make the birth easier.
Sure enough, when Hallie returned several moments later, it was with a brilliant smile.
“Sir Hew du Lac of Rivenloch,” she announced, “you have a daughter.”
The day dawned crisp and clear, with a fine coverlet of snow that reflected light into the crowded solar.
Carenza gazed at the Rivenloch clanfolk gathered around her and Hew—Laird Deirdre, Hallie, Jenefer, Feiyan, Logan, and Isabel—and felt as if she knew and loved them already.Hew had spent many hours in the byre retelling their stories.She couldn’t wait to visit Rivenloch and meet the rest.
“What are ye goin’ to call her?”Carenza’s father asked as he smiled fondly down at the wee bairn cradled in his arms.
Carenza exchanged a secret smile with Hew, whose eyes hadn’t stopped shining since she’d first shown him his daughter.
“We’re namin’ her Bethac.”
“Ah.”That was all her father could manage.He nodded, and Carenza saw his eyes fill with tears.But he was the Laird of Dunlop.Strong and stiff and stoic.So he cleared his throat and quickly handed Bethac off to her grandmother, Laird Deirdre.Then he mumbled, “I’ll make arrangements for the baptism,” before he rushed out the door.
“Bethac?”Laird Deirdre asked.
Hew replied, “’Twas the name of Carenza’s mother.”
Everyone nodded in approval.
“’Tis a good name for a warrior,” Deirdre teased, gazing down at Bethac with affection.
Hew asked her, “So what happened to Sister Eve?Why did the marriage contract take so long?”
