“She needs little time fer that.” Hamish waved his hand in farewell. “But I shall go and hurry her along all the same.”
Leaving Brianne in the capable care of Siegfried, Hamish walked briskly over the cobbles to the long and low granite building which housed the castle kitchens. The air was thick with steam and the enticing aroma of roasting meat. Two pink-cheeked maids turned a large spit whilst the redoubtable cook used a long iron handle to fetch bread from the oven. Isabella was in the far corner, biting her lip in concentration as she rolled marzipan for a large fruitcake. She didn’t hear as he snuck up behind her, and she gasped in surprise as his hands closed about her waist.
“I am come to steal ye away,” he whispered in her ear.
Isabella giggled. “I must finish this cake before I do anything else.”
“Ye forget who ye address. I am the Laird of Greenock and my word is law.”
“Are ye certain of that?” Isabella turned in his arms and dabbed sugar onto his nose with the tip of her forefinger. “For I am the Lady of Greenock, and ’tis my word that is law, at least in this kitchen.”
Hamish guffawed, resisting the urge to kiss her in front of the servants. “Yer word is law, Isabella. In each and every room ofthis castle and wherever else we may roam together. But I have hardly seen ye this day. Would ye be so cruel as ter deny me yer company, just for a short time?”
She nodded slowly, her long blonde plaits swinging over her shoulders. “For a short time, then. In truth, there is something I must tell you.”
Hamish grasped her hand and led her from the heat of the kitchen to the herb garden, pausing only long enough for Isabella to give her instructions to the servants. Outside, the warm breeze was pungent with the scent of mint. Isabella wiped her sugary fingers on her apron and pushed back a loose strand of hair.
“The herbs are flourishing.” She turned around slowly, looking at the well-stocked beds with a proud smile.
“We are all flourishing.” He pulled her into his arms and pressed a kiss to her golden head. “Thanks to yer tender care.”
“’Tis thanks to the mighty Laird of Greenock that we have such a fine and prosperous home.” She ran a hand over his cheek and he closed his eyes at her touch. “You have not rested since we wed. Are you not tired, Hamish?”
“Never.” He caught her hand and pressed it to his lips. “I have the energy of a boy. Especially since our wool exports to France are doing so well. I ken ’tis likely thanks to the intervention of yer brother Tristan that trade flows so freely from Greenock.”
“The unrelenting hard work of yourself, plus the odd word from Tristan, mayhap.” Isabella shrugged. “’Tis in the interest of the de Nevilles to stand side-by-side with the McIvors now that we are joined in marriage not once but twice.” She smiled up at him, haloed by the noontime sun.
Hamish fought to keep his focus on the conversation they were having, but it was difficult when his wife was so alluring. “Jonah and Elena make a fine couple,” he managed. “I ne’erthought I would consider a man worthy of my little sister. But Jonah de Neville has proven me wrong.”
“And I ne’er thought to see my youngest brother so happy.” She shielded her eyes from the sun. “Remember, they expect to be with us before the harvest.”
“So that Elena’s first child can be born at Greenock.” He fastened his arms about Isabella’s waist. “I havena forgotten.”
Isabella took a breath. “So it’s true, you have not yet grown exhausted by all this?”
He raised his eyebrows. “All what?”
“Everything.” Isabella caught at her lip with her teeth and looked away.
Hamish pulled her closer. “What are ye trying to tell me?”
Slowly, Isabella took his hand and placed it on her belly. “By Twelfthtide we shall have another babe in the cradle.”
“Ye are with child?” He smiled broadly. “Ye Gods, that is wonderful news.”
Isabella inclined her head as a furious wailing erupted from the nearby western tower, which housed the nursery. “I am glad you think so. Especially as our latest babe is hardly out of the cradle. Nor has he afforded us more than one night of sleep since his arrival.”
“Our Adam has strong lungs and a strong temperament.” Hamish was still smiling; he thought he may never stop. “And the patience of a highland warrior hungry for his supper.”
“Your son,” Isabella said lightly. “I hope this one may be a girl. A sister for Brianne.”
“Girl or boy, I care only that it is healthy.”
“Amen to that.” She rose onto her tiptoes and kissed him. “I know that Adam is in good hands with his nurse, but I cannot bear to hear him cry. I must go to him.”
With some regret, Hamish released her. “I will come and find ye later,” he promised. “There is unfinished business between us.”
Having taken a few steps away, Isabella turned toward him, her eyes bright with merriment. “Still?” she enquired, one hand lingering over her belly.
