The McKinnon (39 page)

“I have known Nic most all my life. Nic, I am honored to call you friend and brother, though no common blood flows through our veins. We have fought beside each other, we have fought for each other, and we have fought with each other. I have gone drinking with you and dragged your sorry carcass out of several young damsels’ beds just before their father had a chance to kill you. Or worse, make you wed that daughter.”

There were good-natured whoops and male laughter that filled the hall. Connor let the laughter die down and continued.

“Nic, I have seen you angry, I have seen you laugh, and I have seen you harden as life has a tendency to do to us, but I have never seen you love. That is until now.”

Connor then turned to Morgan.

“And Morgan, the day you choose to ride that brute of a horse, fate propelled you not only off that horse, but also down a path. That path was not only to change your life, but Nic’s as well. You being here has changed him. He is not made weaker, but made stronger, for now he has two good reasons to live. Woe to the enemy who foolishly dares threaten that which he loves so fiercely.”

Conner then turned back to face the hall.

“Friends, rise with me and let us lift our cups to these two.” The Hall filled with standing well-wishers. “May you love long and live happy.”

Cheers rose across the crowd and became even louder as Nic kissed Morgan full on the mouth, branding her for all to see. Morgan blushed as if she were a new bride and smiled radiantly at Nic.

Cullen stood at the back of the hall watching the woman he desperately loved be delivered forever and irrevocably into the hands of his brother.

Slipping out unnoticed, he made his way to his quarters. The bottle under his arm would be his companion for the night.

The feast was magnificent. The entertainment was good for such short notice, and the Great Hall was warm and smelled of fresh spice boiling over the fire. Morgan was content. Turning to her left, she noticed Reagan was staring blankly into her platter.

“Reagan, are you all right?” Morgan asked as she placed a hand on the forearm of her new friend.

“Yes, your Grace, I am fine. What is the not to be fine about?” Reagan’s smile did not reach her eyes.

“Reagan, do not call me ‘Your Grace’ and you know well what I’m asking.”

“Morgan, I'm fine. Don’t be concerned about me. I'm content enough. I am freely practicing my medicine. I have food to eat, I’m not worried about protecting myself, and I have a roof over my head. I count myself fortunate. I have new friends like you, Cullen, and Nic.”

“What about Connor?”

“Connor?” she shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Do I hear a ‘but’ in there somewhere?” Morgan watched her friend as Reagan unconsciously looked at the door.

Reagan studied her folded hands in her lap a moment before looking back to meet Morgan’s young, but wise face.

“Yes, there is a ‘
but
’ there.”

Morgan and Reagan had come to know each other so well in a short time

"Do I need to convince you to stay?” Morgan asked softly, wanting no one else to hear. 

"I will stay until the baby is born. I will not entrust your delivery to anyone else. After that, who knows?” She shrugged her shoulders. “We’ll see.”

“Once you leave you will be very far away, I feel that."

"Distance is relative. Time is not," Reagan said flatly.

"I understand, Rea. I miss you already.” Morgan gave Reagan a small hug just as Nic interrupted them.

Nic stood behind her to the right, and extended his hand in support for her to stand. “Morgan, please dance with me.” 

Standing, Morgan let her husband lead her to the floor, leaving Connor and Reagan at the table. Connor seized the opportunity to speak with Reagan, moving down the table and taking the seat vacated by Morgan.

“Good evening, Reagan. You look very nice tonight. The color becomes you. You should dress such more often.”

“Are you saying I do not look nice in the clothes I normally wear?”

Reagan did not know why she had the urge to provoke him, but it was there nonetheless. They had not spoken since the week before in the stables. She wanted to keep their interaction that way.

Reagan was not so foolish to think that she would not have to deal with him some tonight, but she felt exposed after having had the conversation with Morgan.

“No, that is not what I’m saying. The clothes you wear serve the purpose. It would not be wise or practical to wear anything but such garments to birth a lamb.”

She stood gracefully then looked down at Connor. He knew he had said something wrong, but for the life of him could not figure it out. She was fleeing his company in every sense of the word.

“Ahh, still checking up on me, I see. Thank you for the fashion critique, English. My garments are unattractive and only serviceable. I'll tuck that back for future reference. Now, if you will excuse me, I have promised the next dance to David Hale, and a promise is a promise.”

Reagan walked away to find David. She liked the young man and enjoyed his company.

Connor watched her weave though the crowd to meet David. He was smiling at her as she approached and bowed over her hand. Connor did not miss David placing his hand at the small of Reagan’s back in a gesture any man would recognize as possessive.

Well, he would put a stop to this and soon. Connor would let David know she was well above his station, and even if Reagan did not admit the fact, she was still the daughter of an English Earl.

Hours later, and in the privacy of their chambers, Nic propped himself up on one elbow and smoothed hair away from Morgan’s face. They had made just love for the first time since his return.

Nic had approached Reagan earlier in the day and tried delicately to broach the subject, and in typical
Reagan style,
she made Nic feel comfortable with asking such an intimate question. She had assured him that he could indeed make love to his wife. As long as he was gentle with her, it would be fine, and she even gave him some suggestions about how to make Morgan more comfortable with her this far along in her pregnancy.

“Have I told you how beautiful you are?”

Nic was still amazed he was home, and he and Morgan were well on the road to recovery in their relationship.

“Not in the last half hour. So, feel free to repeat the fact.” Morgan giggled softly as Nic ran his fingertips down her exposed thigh. They lay there quietly for a few moments. Nic could see she was drifting away from him. Something was on her mind.

“Nic, have you spoken to Reagan lately?”

Nic smiled sheepishly at Morgan. “Yes she said what we did would not hurt you or the baby. Are you comfortable? Did I hurt you?”

“I’m fine, Nic. What we did was far from unpleasant. What I meant was, have you spoken with her about her plans for the future?” Morgan tried to prop herself up on the pillows, but Nic would not let her get up just yet. Gently, he pulled her back down next to him.

“Well, no. I just assumed that she would stay here as Featherstone’s healer or go with us to Heather Park. Why?”

“You know you make it hard for a woman to think when you do that.” Nic traced his fingertips over the swell of her breasts. “Do you think she regrets leaving Ireland? After all, it was her home and she has roots there.”

“Morgan, what is this about?” Nic stopped his gentle caress and looked intently at her.

“Nothing really, I think she is feeling just a little adrift. So, do you think that she regrets leaving Ireland?”

“No, I do not think she regrets what she did to help us, and I think she is too practical to look back or regret an act that cannot be undone. It will just take time, Morgan. It has been less than a month, and I’m sure she will transition just fine."

"You really think so?"

"Yes, I do. Reagan is resilient. Already, she is making a place for herself here. The people are growing to love her. She has proven to be versatile in her abilities and has a gift Connor needs here. She is even getting some admirers.”

“Who could possibly miss that?” Morgan laughed softly. “I have seen the men invent reasons to go see her. She takes it in good stride.”

“I have seen her with David Hale a lot over the last week,” Nic said pointing out the obvious. “She may even prefer to settle down and give up healing altogether for the right man. And if not then she does have family here in England. She is the daughter of an Earl, and a fact that is known by only a few.”

“I had no idea.” Surprised by this information, Morgan understood the ramification of it, too. “I would bet that Rea does not want it information to become common knowledge either.”

If it did Reagan would become the pawn of the King, and all the political games going along with such a position. Morgan knew first-hand how hard it is being sucked into such a life unprepared. It would crush Reagan to become a possession for bartering to the highest bidder. She was a lovely woman, and would be in high demand even though she was a little older. Morgan felt having loved and lost once already her friend wanted to keep her person her own. At present, she had the freedom to make her own choices and she did not think Reagan wanted another marriage.

“If King Henry gets wind of this, she may well be taken from us.”

Morgan found she earnestly did not want that to happen. She had grown to care for Reagan feeling her friendship helped to fill a void in Morgan’s life.

“Tell me who else knows?” Morgan demanded.

“I told Connor and Cullen. As far as I know that is it. I shared that much only in the case we needed to have her taken to her family for safety reasons.”

“Nic, you must tell them to keep silent. Otherwise, the ramification could be disastrous for us. If she is taken into the King’s care then who will deliver my baby? Worse than that, I shudder to think of whom she might have to marry. I know how fortunate, I am with you, but what if she is sent to someone like my uncle? We cannot let that happen, Nic.”

“Morgan you are getting upset over something that Connor and I will never let happen. Come, lay back down beside me.”

Nic had not given this thought. However, knew he could not do anything about it tonight. He just wanted them to enjoy their wedding night and promised to speak to Connor and Cullen in the morning.

“Promise?” Morgan asked knowing he would do so.

“I promise. Now, my wife come here and let me finish what I started.” Nic gave her little chance to protest as he pulled her mouth down to meet his.

Tomorrow she would worry about Reagan’s leaving, but tonight belonged to Nic.

Nic waited impatiently as the months flew by. Morgan was healthy and happy. Reagan settled into a routine of helping the sick who came to her, as well as those too ill to travel.

Cullen had taken to spending most of his time with the men under Connor’s command, rarely coming to the house, and spending more time than he should in the taverns drinking and whoring for days at a time.

Nic had been good to his word making sure Cullen and Connor both knew to keep the information about Reagan’s background private. Connor was none too thrilled to have an oath extracted from him that her noble blood would remain confidential. After a brief discussion, Connor relented, seeing the benefits to everyone in having Reagan’s lineage kept under wraps.

Nic noticed Connor had David Hale reassigned to his holdings in York, which was far to the north. Soothing David's separation from Reagan, Connor awarded the young man a well-deserved promotion and assignment of extra men at his command. However, Nic had found it coincidental the transfer and promotion occurred the day after Connor and he came on Reagan and the young man together in the infirmary. Judging from the conversation, it appeared David may have been about to propose to Reagan when they interrupted them.

Nic was remembering that day with some questions as he walked back from the stables and past Reagan's quarters. He and Connor had been touring the out villages, collecting supplies for Reagan’s stores as they went, as they had become used to doing.

She had often requested their help when she knew they were going out. What was unusual was the fact that Connor had insisted they go straight to the infirmary and not have Cook deliver the supplies as had become the custom.

Connor and Reagan had developed a truce, and preserved that truce by keeping a respectable distance from each other. The day after the wedding Connor supplied her with a clean area to practice her craft as his way of apologizing for his behavior on her arrival at Featherstone.

Reagan was thrilled and graciously accepting the offer.

Grateful, she immediately selected the space from the areas Connor had listed, and settled on an outbuilding with good light, level, hard-packed dirt floors, and a roof that needed only minor repairs. It also had two small rooms off the back.

Both he and Connor had objected loudly once they figured out she had plans to make one of these rooms her sleeping quarters. Reagan and Connor argued, which was not a pretty sight to see. Morgan came to the rescue, arbitrating a truce and negotiating a compromise all could live with.

Reagan had young Marcus, a teen under Connor’s foster care, to assist her and he would be her “protector”.

She took no time to make the space her own. It was here they found David and Reagan together, and Nic still remembered how his friend had stiffened by his side. It was reminiscent of when Connor faced an enemy.

That was nearly two months ago. As far as Nic knew, Reagan and Connor still had not exchanged more than a word or two and only when necessary.

Interrupting his musings, he came around the corner of the hallway to find Morgan collapsed on the floor. Her face was white with pain.

“Morgan!” Nic ran the remaining distance to his wife. “What's wrong?”

“It is time. You need to find Reagan,” Morgan said through escalating contraction.

“Let me get you to our quarters first. Then I'll go find her.”

Nic picked up his precious bundle and made for their quarters down the hallway. Laying her on the bed, Nic saw the evidence of the beginnings of her labor.