Monroe looked at the folded note in Ewan’s hand and shook his head. “Nay.”
Ewan slipped the note into the locked drawer of his desk. “If ye would, find out who did.”
Monroe nodded. “Of course.”
Mayhap whoever had delivered the letter would have information Ewan could glean. “Until then, I’d like ye to call a healer,” Ewan said.
“For Lady Sutherland,” Monroe guessed.
Ewan sighed. “Aye. I know she willna be happy about it, but I canna ease my worry.”
“I’ll see to it on the morrow, sir.” Monroe opened the ledger to the most recent page of accounts.
Ewan listened with half an ear and even less of his brain. His thoughts were too fixated on Faye. Once the healer saw to her, he knew he could set his mind to rest. He only hoped Faye would forgive him for going against her wishes.
By midafternoon the following day, Faye was exhausted. Fortunately, the worst of the nausea ebbed, which not only provided a reprieve but also solidified her certainty that she was indeed in a delicate way.
Moiré joined her outside in the kitchen garden and gave her a smile. “How are ye feeling?”
Faye shook her head and led Moira to a nearby bench. “Still not well.”
Moiré’s lips tugged downward. “Are ye drinking the tea I’ve been giving ye?”
“Aye,” Faye lied. “I’m still plagued with illness. I think…I am nearly certain I’m with child.” She sat on the stone bench, ensuring there was enough space at her side for Moiré to join her.
“Nearly certain?” Moiré settled on the stone beside her.
“’Tis foolish to not tell Ewan.” Frustration burned at Faye. Its heat sent a ripple of queasiness lapping over her again.
“’Tis safer, to ensure he willna have to go through the heartache of realizing ye’re no’ actually with child if ye’re no’.” Moiré’s gaze was sympathetic. “He tried to summon a healer for ye, but I told him the healer was in another village and couldn’t come.” Moiré giggled conspiratorially.
Faye touched her cool hands to the heat of her cheeks, but it did little to quell the threat of sickness. “I think I’d like to see her. She will know better than me.”
“Verra well, but I would still be mindful of telling Ewan, especially lately.”
Faye got to her feet, but the sensation did not abate. “What do ye mean?”
“Have ye no’ noticed he’s been acting a bit off?”
Faye’s brows furrowed as she thought back to Ewan’s behavior. There had been nothing unusual that had stood out in her mind. But then, she’d been so preoccupied with the possibility of being pregnant or not.
“Nay, then.” Moiré chewed her bottom lip with apparent concern. “Mayhap ’tis only me putting worry where it shouldna be.”
“I’ll pay more attention to be certain,” Faye vowed.
The worry on Moiré’s face smoothed. “Ye’re a good wife, Faye.”
Her praise warmed in Faye’s chest, and she found herself smiling. “Thank ye.”
With that, Ewan’s cousin took her leave, and Faye went back into the keep and wound her way through the halls to her chamber. Once inside, she was preparing to lie down when she heard movement in the chamber beside hers. Ewan was within, most likely. Her heart quickened with happiness.
She rapped on the door connecting their two rooms, and it opened almost immediately, revealing Ewan. He grinned down at her and pulled her into his arms. “’Tis a lucky man who can see his bonny wife midday.”
He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “I must confess something to ye,” he said. “I tried to have a healer brought in to see to ye despite ye saying ye dinna want one.”
“Did ye?” she asked.
“I hope ye’re no’ upset about it.” He stroked the back of his hand down her cheek. “I’ve been worried about ye.”
Faye closed her eyes against the caress, enjoying the sweetness of the gesture. Moiré had been incorrect about his acting strange. He was as charming and perfect as ever.
“I’m not,” Faye replied. “I confess, I think I should like to go to a healer as well.”
Her heartbeat quickened. She ought to tell him. Moiré’s warnings be damned. Ewan should know her suspicions on the possibility that they might soon be parents. Especially when he was so eager for a babe.
“Moiré says the healer is not in the village at present.”
Faye did not share what she knew about the healer being there still and Moiré’s lie. “Mayhap, we can go on the morrow. We can go to the village together.”
Ewan hesitated. “I canna go then. Any other day, aye, but no’ that day.”
Faye leaned against the doorframe, feeling the weighted drag of her exhaustion suddenly. “What is happening then?”
He lifted his shoulders in a quick, nervous shrug. “I have to see about something.”
Faye eyed him. There was an anxious energy about him. He worked his thumb over his right hand, popping each knuckle in turn.
“What are ye doing?” she asked. “Sounds very important.”
He shrugged again. “I canna tell ye about it until afterward.”
“Is something amiss?” she asked.
He shook his head vehemently, confirming something most definitely was. “Nay. What of ye?”
Fie. The reminder of her own secrets emerged with an ugliness she did not have the energy to face. She shook her head slowly as the secrets settled between them like boulders.
They kissed once more and parted, widening the gap spreading between them. Anxiety settled in Faye’s stomach. It was an uncommon emotion in her dealings with Ewan, and she found she did not like it.
No longer tired, she resumed her duties as mistress of the keep. There was far too much to do to rest anyway.
Moiré found her later after Faye had met with the chatelaine. “Good news,” she said brightly.
Faye regarded Ewan’s cousin with wariness. It seemed good news was thin of late.
“I was able to secure a time for ye to meet with the healer on the morrow.” Moiré beamed at her.
Faye nearly staggered in relief. She had no idea how anxious she’d been to get a healer’s opinion on her condition until the
