He set her down, and they waited while Father Brian sprinkled the bed with holy water.
“Do your part,” he said to Ian with a wink, “and ye will have many fine children.”
As soon as Ian closed the door behind the priest, Sileas burst out laughing. “I already put the fertility charm Tearlag gave me under the bed.”
Ian pulled her into his arms. “We’ll have to do our best not to waste so much luck.”
EPILOGUE
NINE MONTHS LATER
Fear was an unnatural state for Ian.
His mother came downstairs periodically to report that his wife was well and all was proceeding as expected. Despite her reassurances, an unfamiliar sensation of panic flooded through his limbs every time he heard his mother’s step on the stairs.
“Sit down, Ian, before ye wear out your new floor,” Alex said.
Why had he got Sileas with child? What was he thinking? It wasn’t of children, that was for certain. But God help him, her mother had died in childbirth.
“She is a strong lass,” his father said. The sympathy in his eyes showed that he understood in a way the others, who had no wives, could not.
Sileas screamed again, and his heart stopped in his chest.
“ ’Tis only when they’re too weak to scream that ye have cause to fret,” his father said.
His father could be lying to him, but the strength of Sileas’s voice was reassuring.
“I think I hear her cursing,” Duncan said, looking nearly as worried as Ian. “That’s a good sign, aye?”
“How long does this take, da?” Ian ran his hands through his hair as he paced. “I shouldn’t have brought her back here to Knock Castle. What if it’s bad luck?”
“First ye had Father Brian bless every nook and corner,” Alex said. “Then ye kept poor old Tearlag here for three days making silly spells for protection.”
“That was to comfort Sileas,” Ian said—and ignored the snorts from the others.
“If the two of ye have been unhappy here,” Connor said, “you’ve done a good job of fooling everyone.”
They’d been too happy. Ian feared they’d made the faeries jealous.
“Ian,” his mother said from doorway. “Ye can come up now.”
She stepped aside to let him run by her, and he took the stairs three at a time. When he entered their bedchamber, Sileas was propped up on pillows, flanked by Ilysa and Dina.
His wife looked tired but radiant.
Ilysa moved aside so he could take her place next to the bed. “We’ll leave ye alone,” she said. “Just call if ye need me.”
“I’ll say good-bye, because Gordan will be coming to fetch me soon.” Dina patted her own expanding belly and gave them a broad wink. “He’s a very…
When Ian asked Gordan to watch over Dina, he never suspected he was fostering a lasting union. It appeared to be a love match as well. Having a steady man like Gordan had settled Dina, and Dina added a spark to Gordan. The shouting matches between Dina and Gordan’s mother, however, were the stuff of legends.
When the door closed behind the two women, Ian brushed his fingers against Sileas’s cheek. “Are ye all right,
“I am,” she said.
“Ach, ye sounded as if ye were being tortured.”
“I was,” she said, but when she smiled up at him, Ian’s heart did a turn in his chest. Sileas had an inner glow that made her unbearably beautiful.
“Ye haven’t looked yet,” she said.
The blanket over the bundle in her arm shielded the babe’s face from him.
“What is it?” he asked. “A boy or a girl?”
He hoped for a boy, only because the thought of having a girl frightened him half to death. What if she was a bairn like her mother, falling into trouble at every opportunity? He’d be an old man before his time.
“Take your daughter,” Sileas said.
When he lifted the bundle from her arm, the babe weighed nothing at all.
“She is a wee tiny thing, isn’t she?” He pushed the blanket back to see her face—and his daughter held his heartstrings from that moment. “Ah, but she is a beauty! She’s going to have lovely orange hair, just like you.”
“My hair is not orange.”
It was, but he didn’t argue.
“Do ye want to see the other one now?” she asked.
“What? There’s more?”
“Just one more. Another girl.”
He hadn’t noticed the bundle in his wife’s other arm until now. She lifted it up and rested it in the crook of his
