Page 135 of Ghost of the Ton

“Aye,” he said. “We have a niece.”

“Is…my baby alive?” a soft voice asked.

“Aye, Mistress Iona,” Elspeth said. “And she’s beautiful, just like her ma. Would ye like to meet her?”

The old maidservant approached Mia, arms outstretched. For a moment, Mia felt a rush of loss as she handed the child over and closed her eyes, unwilling for others to see the ugly ball of resentment and envy that curled in her gut.

Then a large, warm hand cupped her chin. She opened her eyes to see her husband watching her, his expression filled with pride and love.

“My beautiful wife,” he breathed. “How did I survive—how did any of us survive—without ye?”

He lifted his hand and traced a line around her face with his fingertip, caressing her forehead, then following a trail along her cheek toward her mouth, where he placed his fingertip against her lips.

How could a man so brawny, with the body of a beast, touch her with such tenderness? A tear swelled in his eye, then splashed onto his cheek. She placed her hand on his face and brushed away the tear with her thumb.

“There’s no shame in shedding a tear, Hamish,” she said. “A new life has entered the world, a beautiful little girl for you to love and cherish. How can anyone express their joy at such a gift other than to shed a tear?”

He took her hand. “I vow, on this day, that I shall ever again shed a tear, until”—he hesitated, a flicker of shyness in his eyes—“until I have cause to.”

“Cause?”

“Aye,” he said. “The next tear I shed shall be on the day that my own firstborn child is placed into my arms.”

His words broke the spell.

Was he, even now, looking to the day that her replacement might give him an heir? Now Iona’s baby had come, Mia had no reason to stay at Glenblath—no promise to keep her here.

The door burst open and Eilidh appeared, Freydis at her side.

“Daughter!” she cried. “I heard ye were—”

“I’m well, Ma,” Iona said. “Would ye like to meet yer granddaughter?”

“Och, Iona!” Eilidh said, embracing her daughter. “My clever wee lass!”

“I should leave you to get acquainted,” Mia said, stemming the tide of tears, and before anyone responded, she exited the chamber. As soon as she’d shut the door behind her, she leaned against the wall and succumbed to sobs. The beginning of a new life had heralded the end of Mia’s life at Glenblath—a life away from the people, the family, and the man she had come to love.

Chapter Thirty-Five

Steel fingers gripped at Hamish’s heart as he saw his wife slip away. Today marked the end of her commitment to stay.

“Och, for the love of the devil’s fat, round arse!” his mother cried. She turned to Iona and placed her hands on her hips. “I’m glad yer bairn’s a girl, lass. At least she’ll grow up with some intelligence.”

“Unlike her numbskull of an uncle,” Iona said, rising from the bed.

“Ye shouldn’t be getting up, sister,” Hamish said.

“And ye shouldn’t be such a bloody arse, brother,” she huffed, grimacing. “Shite! It feels like my cunny’s been turned inside out.”

“Iona!” he said. “Dinnae curse in front of the bairn—or yer laird.”

“She’ll hear a great deal worse from ye, I’ll warrant, brother.”

“And ye are an arse,” his mother said, lifting the baby into her arms. “Do ye love yer wife?”

“Of course I bloody do!”

“Then tell her.”