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 Sìleas 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.
Sìleas 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 Sìleas’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 Teàrlag here for three days making silly spells for protection.”
“That was to comfort Sìleas,” 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, Sìleas was propped up on pillows, flanked by Ilysa and Dina.
His wife looked tired but radiant. Praise God! He never wanted to go through this again.
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 Gòrdan will be coming to fetch me soon.” Dina patted her own expanding belly and gave them a broad wink. “He’s a very… attentive… husband.”
When Ian asked Gòrdan 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 Gòrdan had settled Dina, and Dina added a spark to Gòrdan. The shouting matches between Dina and Gòrdan’s mother, however, were the stuff of legends.
When the door closed behind the two women, Ian brushed his fingers against Sìleas’s cheek. “Are ye all right, a chuisle mo chroí?”
“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. Sìleas 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,” Sìleas 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 arm.
“This one has orange hair, too,” Ian said as he looked at his second lovely daughter. He grinned at his wife. “There’re going to be trouble, aren’t they?”
“More than likely,” she said, sounding quite complacent about it. “You’re going to be a wonderful da.”
Sìleas always had such faith in him.
“What shall we name them?” he asked.
“I’d like to name one Beitris, after your mother,” Sìleas said. “What about Alexandra for the other, after Alex?”
“Fine,” he said, smiling down at his wee girls. “Duncan and Connor are not good names for a lass.”
“We should have sons after this,” she said. “We’ll need at least four.”
“Four sons? Why do we need any sons at all?” Overjoyed as he was with their two babes, he wasn’t anxious to risk his wife’s life again.
“So we can name them after Connor, Duncan, Payton, and Niall, of course.” She touched his arm. “After being an only child, I want a houseful of children.”
He nodded, hoping it would be easier next time, but expecting it wouldn’t. “If we do two at a time, it won’t take long.”
He heard a tinkle of laugher and looked up to see what looked very much like a woman in a pale green gown floating above the bed.
“It’s the Green Lady—she’s come back,” Sìleas said, sounding pleased at finding a ghost in their bedchamber. “I’ve never seen her smile before.”
Ian decided he could live with a smiling ghost if it made his wife happy.
As he leaned down with his babes in his arms to give his beloved Sìleas a kiss, he could have sworn that the Green Lady winked at him.