Page 33 of Outlaw Ever After

“Oh, Aileana…” Peigi breathed, a pang assailing her heart.

Aileana’s babe slept soundly, his face smooth and unblemished.

“He’s-he’s perfect . I was pleased to learn that ye were weel and the babe was strong. I wish I could have been there for ye.” Instead of at Iona Abbey.

“Have no fear, I was nay alone but tended by my sister-in-law.”

“Bossing the midwife about, no doubt,” Peigi teased, for it was well known that Aileana was a skilled healer herself.

The wolfhound, graying around the muzzle, nudged Peigi’s hand again. She obliged a pet.

Her sister laughed. My, it was good to see Aileana happy. Who would have guessed she’d find that pleasure in the arms of one of their clan’s gravest enemies?

Still, guilt assailed her at Aileana’s reassuring smile. She’d always looked out for her sister, but she’d failed her in her time of need. She’d failed Seamus. Failed herself.

“Do ye want to hold him? I ken how ye love bairns,” Aileana prattled on. “I canna wait to see wee Calum lulled to sleep by his Auntie Peigi’s song. Ye must hear my sister singing all the time.” Aileana turned to the head woman. “She always hums when she’s happy.”

Mistress Joslyn shook her head silently.

“Oh, Aileana, I’ve been far too busy planning this event—”

“Posh, Peigi, it’s yer truest gift and I’ve missed it so.” Aileana waved her off. “Ye’ll spoil Calum for certain. And once ye marry, why, it could only be a matter of months before Calum has another cousin—”

An ache knotted in Peigi’s belly. What was this capricious love that could be elated at the miracle of wee Calum’s birth, and yet seeing him thriving could gouge her fragile heart like a rusting barb?

“—and then perhaps a brother or sister, for Jamie is aye glad I’ve finally been churched. He’s been impatient and counting down the days until he…and I…” She laughed with a womanly blush before her smile fell. “What is it? Peigi, ye’ve gone ashen.”

Had she? Peigi cupped her cheek. It felt clammy. Her stomach hollowed and her legs began to quake—

“Mi lady?” came Mistress Joslyn’s voice, an old woman who was kindly enough, but guarded, like the rest of these Comyn people. “Gertrude, grab the watered wine. Francine, a trencher of supper…”

Aileana took her other arm and guided her onto the dais, the torchlight, smoke, and music a din that swirled on the edges of her mind, but she was coming around already. She smiled as Gertrude—the serving lass who was to organize the games—hurried to her side with an ewer and goblet, sloshing the drink into it and holding it to her like a royal chalice.

“I’m fine.” She smiled, lifting the lassie’s chin and gently rejecting the food offered her. Just the smells were overpowering and threatened to turn her stomach. “Ye’re sweet to worry. Gertrude, is it?”

The girl grinned at her new lady’s praise. “What would we do, mi lady, if ye keeled over at our feet?”

The scowling faces of nearby serving women suggested they’d gladly spit on her grave if she did. Even if these folk had cause to hate the Grants, Peigi was determined to win their hearts and untwist the thorns intertwining their clans.

“I would be glad indeed to have such loyalty as yers, dear child,” Peigi said.

But Aileana was still fretting, forcing her to sit, and Joslyn was busy holding out her chair.

“Truly. I was distracted, ’tis all. I’m fine.”

“Fine ?” Aileana gritted out softly, infant cupped on one arm while she fussed over Peigi with the other.

“Indeed. Fine .” She’d been fine for three months. “Gertrude.” She turned to the lassie and dipped down to her level, taking her hands. “Why no’ order forth the games?”

The child beamed, nodding, so that her ginger-blond waves bobbed. “The crab apples are first.”

“Crab apples?” Aileana asked.

“Mmhmm .” The girl nodded again, tapping her chin. “And the oat stalks on the morrow. I shall bring the apples out straight away!”

She dashed away, returning moments later with a bowl of crab apples. The other ladies gathered around, notably, Lady Elizabeth, their sister-in-law, and the sisters, mothers—and in Laird Graham’s case, oldest daughter—of the men who’d traveled to compete, as she felt the appraising glances of the suitors below the dais. Felt her cheeks redden beneath their assessments of her virtues. She’d always hated how they did that. Had once believed that her playful warrior who’d worn sparkling grins like a badge of honor had been different, had wanted her for her …

Let the past lie. This tournament would protect her clan’s reputation. This tournament was her penance.