Page 36 of Twelfth Knight’s Bride

She collapsed to her knees beside the child upon Anag’s lap, whose face was red and her hands at her throat, unable to gain a breath. Anag slapped her back.

“Maudie! Cough it out, sister!”

“Allow me,” Aileana said.

“I’ll no’ allow a Grant to touch her—” Anag cut herself off.

Aileana ignored the knee-jerk admonishment and seized the girl out of Anag’s arms. Grasping the child around her back, she wedged a fist in her belly and jerked it inward, pumping, pumping. Maudie’s face was purpling. The bairn floundered desperately. Anag screamed and clenched Maudie’s skirts amid the commotion of muttering and panic, pumping, pumping, sweat breaking out on her brow, until a wad came flying forth from Maudie’s mouth as James, fresh from outdoors and still dusted in snow, shoved through the throng.

The wad bounced off his boot. Maudie inhaled with a gasp, crumpling against Aileana, coughing. Then came her tears, and she wrapped her arms around Aileana’s neck.

“Wheesht, lassie,” Aileana crooned, rocking her and smoothing her bonneted head. “Wheesht. All is well now. Breathe.” She turned to the nearby kitchen maid, ignoring Anag, for her accusatory remark had hurt. “What happened?”

“We popped a piece of apple in her mouth as she went about her business,” a kitchen maid admitted, dropping down before Anag and taking Anag’s hand. “We was just tryin’ to give the wee one a treat. I’m so sorry, Anag.”

“It wasnae yer fault,” Anag replied, wiping her eyes.

Aileana glanced up at James, whose chest still rose and fell from his obvious sprint indoors at the sound of distress.

“Ye saved the bairn, Aileana,” he said gruffly.

And soon, other whispers of surprise circulated. “More benevolence from a Grant,” another muttered, though the looks on the surrounding faces were surprised. And kind.

Still. She hadn’t done it to be benevolent. She’d done it because it was what anyone would do for another, if they knew how to help, wasn’t it? Tentative smiles met her gaze. She passed off Maudie into Anag’s waiting arms and, having collapsed without care for her skirts, began to disentangle them to stand.

Anag snagged her hand. Aileana paused and took in the maid’s distress. “My thanks. After losing my husband, I fear I’d never recover if Maudie were taken from me, too.”

Aileana nodded once, the curt gesture all that she could muster. James extended his hand down to her, and while normally she would ignore a man’s assistance, she felt compelled to take his offer now. His face was stricken, solemn. She placed her fingers in his, gazing up at him towering over her. From her vantage on the floor, she was eye-level with his knees, his great kilt draping over his thighs in thick folds. So close. So intimate, in front of so many people, for she was only a mere foot away from that which lay beneath the tartan.

He hoisted her upward, bracing her armpit with his other hand for leverage, and righted her. Then he bent to one knee and lifted Maudie’s face to inspect her.

“Are ye well now?” he asked the child, who nodded and smiled up at Aileana.

Bless the lass. Aside from Brighde, Maudie had been the first and only other friendly face here.

“Bless yer wife, mi laird,” Anag cried, still cupping Maudie’s head and cradling her on her lap. “Bless the Lady Aileana for saving my sister’s life. Mi lady, I’m sorry for what I said and for my anger toward ye.”

Aileana shook her head, dropped her gaze, and worked her fingers together at her waist. “I’m sorry ye had cause for such anger toward my people.”

“I’m indebted to ye, mi lady,” the maid insisted.

James tousled the child’s head, mussing her bonnet. “If ye wanted to shirk yer duties, lassie, ye had nay to go to such drastic measures.” He chuckled, as did the others around them. “Put down yer chores and play tonight.”

He winked at her, and Maudie grinned. Goodness, so James Moidartach, the Devil MacDonald, fed foxes, avenged his fated sister, Marjorie, by treating women with respect, enjoyed country gallivants, and doted on children. Not much of a warlord, as was her brother, Seamus, kind to those in his charge and good to animals. She’d been shocked at Anag’s accusations, and it was becoming clear that neither man was a warlord, but rather a worried brother to his sisters, and that both clans had harbored misconceptions. It was easy to hate someone considered an “enemy.” It was far harder to see them as human.

As James escorted her across the hall and up the steps to the hearth, he took up her hand and brought it to his mouth, then placed his lips upon her knuckles. “What did I say? Act like yerself, and they’d see who ye really are.”

“I did nothing but what anyone would do had they learned the skill.”

He shook his head, his lips still pressed to her hand, warming her. “How many noble ladies would have taken such action with no thought or even known what to do?”

Aileana, baffled, shrugged. “I do nay ken what ye’re getting at.”

“I’m saying that for all that yer tongue argues, even in the face of praise,” he admonished with a smirk, “that ye have a deep love for yer people, and it shows.” She looked up at him while they walked.

“These are yer people, Jamie. I merely did what I thought was right.”

He swallowed hard, brought her hand down from his mouth, and gazed straight ahead of him. His jaw tightened, and he ground out his next words. “I suppose, then, that any man will be lucky to have ye as his wife and have ye claim his people as yer own, since I ken it willnae be me.” He cleared his throat, his arm holding her hand stiff and his lips tight.