The Captive Heart (38 page)

“This is Bab, who took care of me at Wulfborn when I lived there. When I left the first time I had to leave her behind. I would not leave her this time,” Alix explained.

“But Jeannie takes care of you!” Fiona said.

“And she will continue to take care of me. Bab will be nurse to the new baby,” Alix told her stepdaughter.

“Oh, then that is all right,” Fiona replied. “Has Fenella met her?”

“As we have just this moment arrived, nay, but she will,” Alix said.

And at that same moment Fenella hurried into the hall, her face wreathed in smiles as she embraced Alix. “My lady, welcome home! Oh my, the bairn grows, doesn’t he?” She looked to the unfamiliar woman with her mistress.

“This is Bab.” Alix explained briefly the relationship between them. “She will be nurse to my child.”

“Very good, my lady,” Fenella said in a neutral voice. “And I will see she has someone to help her. Taking care of an infant is not an easy task at any age.” But then Fenella’s good nature got the better of her. “You look fair frozen, Bab. Come with me to the kitchens, and I will see you are fed and warmed.” And she led Bab off.

Fiona had not left Alix’s side. Now she slipped her hand into her stepmother’s and walked with her to the hearth so Alix might be seated and get warm. “You missed my birthday,” Fiona told Alix. “I am eight now.”

“The hall looks beautiful,” Alix said. “Did you oversee the decorations, my lass?”

Fiona grinned proudly. “I did!” she crowed. “I wanted it to be perfect when you arrived.” She snuggled against Alix. “It’s almost Christmas. I know what Da is giving you on the first day of Christmas! Do you want me to tell you?”

“Nay!” Alix said, laughing. “Then it would not be a surprise.”

The laird came and knelt before her to draw her boots and wet stockings off. He saw Alix’s feet were red with the cold and swollen. “Have Jeannie fetch your mam’s slippers,” he told his daughter as he began to rub Alix’s feet gently to restore the circulation to them. “You should be in bed,” he told her.

“Nay, not yet,” Alix said. “I want to sit by my own hearth and just revel in my happiness at being home, Colm. Let me remain, and let me eat at my own board. I will go to bed afterward, I promise. Oh, that feels so good!”

“You are a sensuous creature. I have missed you greatly,” he told her, as he had at least a dozen times a day since they had been reunited.

Alix reached out to caress his face gently with her soft hand. He caught the hand up and kissed it tenderly. She sighed, and the sound was one of pure happiness. His hand then reached out to touch her belly. He lay his palm flat, and Alix placed her hand over his, pressing down slightly to see if the child would stir. It did, turning itself about, and a look of pure wonder filled the laird’s face. “That is our bairn,” she told him, and smiled. “He is strong, isn’t he? And already determined to have his own way.”

“I can feel him stirring strongly within you,” Malcolm Scott said, amazed.

Alix laughed again. “Sometimes I cannot sleep for all his dancing.”

Jeannie hurried into the hall carrying a pair of Alix’s house slippers, which were lined with lamb’s wool. “Welcome home, my lady,” she said, and then as the laird arose, she knelt and slipped the slippers on Alix’s feet, which were now a little warmer due to the fire and her husband’s ministrations.

After a short time had passed the meal was served. Alix was helped to the table. Now that her feet were tingling with warmth again it was difficult to walk at first. But her appetite was excellent, especially as the food had come from her own kitchen. There was sliced trout with lemon, a large bowl of lamb stew with chunks of carrot and leek in a rich gravy, a fat roasted duck, bread, butter, and cheese. Alix ate greedily, her hazel eyes widening with delight when Fenella brought a dish of baked apples to table.

“It is all so good,” she told the housekeeper. “And I have been starving for baked apples, Fenella. And they’ve been baked with sugar and cinnamon!” She splashed on some thick yellow cream from the pitcher Fenella handed her. “Ummm!” she approved, spooning some of the apple into her mouth.

“We never had baked apples at all while you were gone,” Fiona said. “And they are my favorites too!” She sat as near as she could to her stepmother. “Promise me you will never leave me again, Alix,” she begged. “And not just because I love baked apples.”

“As long as the choice is mine to make,
ma petite
, I will not leave you again,” Alix told her, putting an arm about the child’s thin shoulders and giving her a small hug. “But one day you will leave your da and me to marry.”

“Nay,” Fiona said. “I love only you and Da. And my new brother.”

Alix kissed the top of Fiona’s dark head.
Poor child,
she thought.
She has really suffered the lack of her mother, but I am her mother now. I will take care of her.

When the meal was over the laird wanted his wife to retire immediately, but now that her feet were warm she felt better. “Let me sit by the hearth and listen to the piper,” she said with a smile, and unable to deny her anything, Malcolm Scott acquiesced. His heart contracted with pleasure to watch Alix seated happily by the fire, Fiona sitting upon a stool, her head in her stepmother’s lap while Alix stroked the little girl’s long hair soothingly. He had never imagined such contentment existed until now.

The piper played sweetly that night, and soon Fiona’s eyes fell shut. At a nod from Alix, the laird came and carried his daughter upstairs, where Fenella waited to tuck the child into her bed. Returning to the hall, he came to sit by Alix’s side. “It is good to have you home again, lambkin,” he told her. “We have all missed you.”

“I never realized before how the lack of her mother has hurt Fiona,” Alix said.

“I do not think she has ever missed Robena,” Malcolm Scott said candidly. “It is you she missed, for you are the mother she knows and loves.” He took her hand and kissed it. “And I missed the wife I know and love. I am so sorry you had to suffer the difficulties of being kidnapped. How on earth did Sir Udolf discover you were here?”

“Bab told me one of his men took one of our maidservants to the stable loft that night they stayed at Dunglais. He obviously learned I was here then and reported to his master, who made plans to regain my person. I spoke with the Wulfborn priest, Father Peter. When I told him how we had come to wed and that Father Donald had said we were free to do so, he as good as admitted that Sir Udolf paid a large bribe to get that dispensation. The priest has been attempting to get his master to let him find another wife of childbearing years and of good family. Sir Udolf briefly agreed, but then decided he must have me back. Father Peter said there was no reasoning with him.”

“You should have let me kill him,” the laird said. “The man is touched by madness and will not give up.”

“Oh, surely not, Colm!” Alix exclaimed. “Certainly now after what happened he will understand I am your wife and that is the end of it. His village is destroyed, his livestock gone, and his people disbursed. It must be obvious to him I am more trouble to him than worth.” She looked up at him. “I think I am ready to go to bed now, my lord. Will you take me up?”

He smiled a slow smile and, standing, drew her to her feet. “Gladly, madame,” he told her, and together they left the hall and mounted the stairs hand in hand.

In their bedchamber he helped her to disrobe, drawing off her gown and her chemise. He admired her ripening body, standing behind her to cup her full breasts in his hands. The rough balls of his thumbs stroked her nipples, and throwing her head back against his shoulder, Alix sighed with pure pleasure. His hands now moved to caress her swollen belly, and she quivered beneath his touch. “Ah, lambkin,” he groaned in her ear, “I lust for you, but would not harm the bairn. Can we? Dare we?” His lips trailed down her slender throat and across her rounded shoulder.

“Aye, we can,” she murmured, “but we must be careful.”

“Get into bed while I shed my clothing,” he said, helping her beneath the coverlet. Then he quickly pulled his garments and his boots off.

Alix lay there watching him. His physique was strong and well muscled. She had missed the feel of his body against hers. And his eagerness for her was evident. His cock was swollen and bobbed about. Alix rolled onto to her side as her husband entered the bed. His hand fastened itself about a breast, playing with the nipple. She felt his warm kiss on the nape of her neck. His tongue traced the shape of her ear, and he nipped upon the earlobe.

“I love you, lambkin,” he told her. “And the thought of that man putting his hands upon you, kissing you, almost drove me to madness,” the laird breathed in her ear.

“He never touched me or kissed me,” Alix told him. “He was too intent upon being courtly when I arrived, and after scolding him I locked myself in my bedchamber with Bab. I did not come out until you came for me.”

“And he permitted you that behavior?” Malcolm Scott was surprised, although he believed his wife’s tale. “I would have broken the door down to reach you.”

“I think the fact I flaunted my belly surprised him,” Alix said. “Ummm, that is nice,” she purred as his hand now stroked her belly and his fingers found their way between her plump nether lips to tease her. She squirmed with her rising excitement, grinding her bottom into him. “I have so longed for your passion these past weeks, Colm, my dear lord, and I so desperately desire to be fucked,” Alix admitted to him.

“And I so need to fuck you, lambkin,” he told her fiercely. She was wet with her arousal, and he tenderly entered her as they lay together on their sides. His hands stroked her full breasts, alternately kissing and nipping the nape of her neck.

He filled her, and Alix sighed with the pleasure she was gaining just by having him inside of her. And when he began to thrust gently she gasped, surprised by the intensity of the desire that overwhelmed her. Her belly was filled up with his child, and yet her lust seemed to know no bounds. “Don’t stop,” she whispered.

He smiled in the dimness of the room, lit only by the low fire that burned in the hearth. “You’re a shameless wench, lambkin,” he told her, and he thrust just a little faster. “Since the day we met, I have had no other woman.” He grinned as he heard her sharp gasp. He had obviously found that wicked little spot that always set her body quivering with delight.

Alix was actually surprised. She had not expected to feel quite as she was now feeling. “Oh, Colm!” she cried softly. “It is so good, my lord! So good!” She shuddered as she was racked by the waves of pleasure that flowed over her, leaving her sated for now and weakened. The babe within her lay quiet.

He took his own release now, and when his cock had finished expelling his hot juices he sighed. “Aye, I’ve missed you,” he said.

Alix rolled over onto her back, and turning her head towards him, replied, “So you have said several times in the past few days, my lord. I think I am beginning to believe you.”

Grinning, he drew the disarranged coverlet over them and pulled her close again. They slept then until the gray light of dawn the following day. And the gray light was followed by a magnificent sunrise that everyone at Dunglais said portended a happy future for them all. The month progressed, and on the first day of Christmas the laird gave his wife a beautiful blue wool cape. Both the garment and its hood were lined in warm rabbit’s fur. Alix had managed to finish the small tapestry she had been working on when Sir Udolf had kidnapped her. It depicted Dunglais Keep upon its small hill and, delighted, the laird ordered it hung behind the high board. Fiona was content again with Alix home. She practiced her French daily. Twelfth Night came and went. Winter set in with a vengeance with snow almost every day. Alix wondered if they would ever see the sun again. But at least it was quiet and peaceful. Nothing stirred to disturb the pristine landscape.

The snows continued on into February. Alix’s belly was enormous to her eyes, and the child within her grew more active with each passing day. Preparations began for the anticipated birth. A birthing chair was found in the cellar of the keep and brought upstairs to be repaired and scrubbed. The family cradle was brought from the attic of the keep to be cleaned free of cobwebs and polished until the ancient oak, deep gold with age, glowed. Alix sewed and stuffed a new mattress for the cradle with a mixture of duck feathers and goose down. Fiona worked with Fenella to stitch a blanket for the baby. Fresh swaddling clothes were prepared for the infant, who already had a wardrobe of garments made by all the women in the household. They but waited for Alix to give birth to the child.

And then on February twenty-seventh, in the evening, Alix finally went into labor shortly after her water broke, surprising her. She had been sleeping, and awakened as a pain akin to a knife slicing her belly awoke her. Discovering herself in a wet bed, Alix called out to her husband, who had gone to sleep in his own bedchamber that night. The laird came at once, and remembering when Fiona had been born, he called for Fenella. Alix’s main concern at the moment was for the feather bed atop the mattress, but Fenella assured her that it would dry. In the meantime it was replaced so that after the child came its mother could be comfortable in her own bed. The birthing chair was brought into the chamber. The laird was sent forth.

“This is women’s work, my lord,” Fenella told her master firmly.

He went half-reluctantly, half-relieved.

“Fiona?” Alix asked.

“Bab has put her to bed, but not before telling her a lot of pretty stories,” Fenella replied. “I was not pleased when you brought that old Englisher here to Dunglais, but she is actually a good sort, my lady. And she certainly isn’t afraid of hard work. With your permission I’ll have my cousin Mary help her with the bairn.”

“I couldn’t leave her behind this time, Fenella,” Alix said, and winced as a small pain touched her. “Her master beat her after I fled Wulfborn the first time, and took every opportunity to assault her after that. After what happened I am sure Father Peter convinced him to find another woman to wife, but Bab unfortunately would have always been a reminder of me. If he did not like her, then his new wife would not. As you have noted, she is not a young woman. With Mary to help her she will take good care of the bairn and end her days here.”