“We’ll take him to our healers,” promised the confident soldier. “We’ve rounded up the men loyal to Rory MacDuff, and they’re in the dungeons awaiting sentencing. Once his lairdship recovers, he’ll be allowed to sentence them.”
Betty still looked astonished, so much so that Eithne nearly laughed. Then the matronly woman set her expression and said, “Well, ye’ll nae be taking him anywhere without me.”
“Or me,” a quiet voice added. Eithne was unsurprised when she turned and saw Myrna approaching. “Betty and I will come with ye and ensure this is no trap.”
“Leave the baby here,” Eithne suggested. “Ivor and I will care for him until ye return, and that way ye can be sure he’s safe. I swear I willnae let anything happen to him.”
Betty hesitated, but then she nodded and placed the sleeping baby in Eithne’s arms. She and Myrna helped Jonah to stand, and the group of them headed out with the soldiers. Just before the door shut, however, the more nervous of the two soldiers turned back.
“Lady Kinnear?”
Eithne grimaced. He kept calling her that, and she supposed it was technically correct, but being called by her mother’s title was just too strange. “Eithne is fine,” she corrected gently. “What is it?”
“Thank ye,” the young soldier said. Looking at him properly, Eithne could see he wasn’t much older than Myrna. “Thank ye for getting rid of him. Thank ye for saving us.”
Eithne took a deep breath, then nodded. “Prove yerselves worthy of being saved,” she said in response.
The soldier nodded and then, to her utmost surprise, saluted her as one would a commander. The door closed behind him, leaving Eithne with the baby and a still-sleeping Ivor.
Eithne walked over to the bed and placed the baby down upon it, arranging the pillows so that the child couldn’t accidentally roll off and injure himself. Once she was satisfied with his safety, she headed to the corner where Ivor slept and sat herself down on the floor next to him. She snuggled into his chest, and he put his arm around her, and together they fell into their dreams, relaxed at last.
* * *
Ivor woke to the sounds of a crying child. Eithne stirred beside him, and though his back hurt from how he’d been sitting, he felt warm and content like he hadn’t in some time.
Is that me own bairn?
He blinked, and the thought cleared. Of course it wasn’t – he didn’t have any children. And yet, for just a moment, he’d been able to imagine that this was his family.
Eithne stretched and got up, walking over to the baby. She picked him up in her arms, shushing him, quietly singing to him while Ivor watched. What had Ivor done to deserve the company of this radiant woman? He didn’t know – and yet he’d almost let her go. That was one mistake he certainly wasn’t about ever to make again.
The child finally settled down, and Eithne placed him back down on the bed. Ivor stood and walked over to Eithne, who turned and wrapped her arms around him without a word.
He hugged her back, clinging tight. They stood there like that for who knew how long, just drinking in each other’s presence, knowing that it was over at last.
When they finally separated, he said, “I made a mistake.”
“Ye did?” she asked quietly as he ran his fingers through her hair. “What mistake was that?”
“The most grievous of me entire life,” he mumbled. He put his fingers under her chin, tilting her head up so that he could look into those crystal blue eyes of hers. God, she was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. “I left ye behind. Can ye ever forgive me?”
Eithne reached up, snaking her arms around his neck and pulling him down close. Their lips met gently, but the kiss soon deepened as she held the back of his head. Ivor groaned, knowing that he may be stronger and bigger, but he was weaker than a newborn in her arms. He ran his hands down the sides of her body, clutching around her waist as they kissed.
They broke apart when the baby made a little noise in his sleep behind them.
“Not now,” Eithne said, though her chest was rising and falling heavily. “But soon.”
He kissed her again, more gently this time. “Ye’re right,” he said. “But I’m never leaving ye again, Eithne. I mean it. Once we’ve seen the others settled safe, I need to fetch Callum. I want ye to come with me.”
“I will,” Eithne replied without even a pause. “And I cannae go back to me uncle, Ivor. I ken Myrna is gonnae want to stay close to Jonah, so I think I may be going to live with her and Betty and this bairn here for a while. I won’t leave me sister.”
“Well, if they’ll have me, I’ll come with ye,” Ivor said immediately. He wasn’t even hesitant, not now. If being with Eithne meant being a servant in a house full of women and children, then so be it. Jonah would be busy being Laird, and the widowed Betty could do with the help. “I meant what I said, Eithne. Whatever I do, I’ll do with ye.”
Eithne smiled at him and touched his face, her fingers leaving a soft, gentle trail through his beard. “And what will they say about an unmarried woman and her lover around to influence this poor bairn?”
Ivor cleared his throat. “Well,” he said, with only a trifle of hesitance. “I was hoping ye wouldnae be unmarried.”
Eithne looked at him sharply, and Ivor fished in his pocket for what he’d worked on while the others were all asleep. It was rough and made of twigs and would undoubtedly have to be replaced by a proper luckenbooth later, but it was the closest thing he could find at short notice.
