Page 56 of Kidnapped By her Highland Enemy
Waking without Lucas near her made a soft pang rest on Maisie’s heart. She knew why he was gone—and why he would be gone in the days to come—but she still missed his presence.With a sigh, she roused and slipped from under the warm blankets then went to wash.
Agathe had promised to train her and Maisie was eager for the distraction from Lucas’s absence and the ever-present threat that lingered over their heads. Dressed, she decided to see Agathe first before heading to have her morning meal—only to find the healing hall in a frenzy.
Eilidh was being rushed to the birthing room, her face set in the agonized rigor of labor-pains. All her hunger vanished, and she rushed into the room with the other ladies, hoping she could help in any way.
The hours slipped by like sand through her fingers, but Maisie hardly noticed. Occupied with feeding Eilidh a pain-reducing concoction every quarter hour, Maisie sat in a state of ceaseless worry and hope for the lady, praying all would be well. By midday, the cries of a girlchild rested Maisie’s heart at ease.
“I wish Oliver was here,” she said gently while mopping sweat off Eilidh’s brow. “I ken he’d love to hold her.”
“Daenae ye worry,” Oliver said as he strode into the room. “I’m here.”
Stepping aside, Maisie smiled as the doting husband kissed Eilidh’s forehead and used his thumb to gently ease his daughter’s clenched fist apart. Lucas’s arm circled her waist, and he brushed his lips across her temple.
“Look at that,” he murmured in her ear. “One day, that’ll be us.”
Maisie bit her lip—her courses should have come days ago, but they had not, and with how often she and Lucas had coupled, there could be only one explanation. Turning to him she whispered, “Mayhap it might be closer than ye realize.”
Shock painted his face and he tugged her into the hallway, closing the door behind them. “What?” his voice dipped while his eyes flickered over her face, searching for an answer.
Gently, she took his hands and rested them on her still flat stomach, “I may be carrying your bairn already, but it is too soon to ken yet.”
He pulled his hand from her body, wrapped her tight and spun her around in circles that had her laughing wildly. When he set her on her feet, Maisie had to grab onto him as the world was still spinning around her.
“We need to marry,” he said in her ear. “I need me daughter or son to come when we are wed.”
She rested her head on his shoulders. “But the threat…”
“Damn the threat,” he said in her ear. “We shall marry.”
Tipping on her toes, Maisie held his shoulder and kissed him, but Lucas took control. Not caring who was about, he crushedher to him and kissed her. He infused the kiss with all his love and Maisie succumbed.
Pulling away she replied, “Careful or ye might take me to yer chambers and this time, I’ll be sure.”
He snorted and pulled her away, “Have ye eaten yet?”
“Nay,” she shook her head. “I was going to but Eilidh’s labor came and I decided to stay with her.”
“Go to our chambers,” he directed. “I’ll have the kitchen send up our meals as I need to talk with ye.”
“I suppose yer pursuit was foiled then,” she said despairingly.
“And then some,” he kissed her forehead. “Go, I’ll be by shorty.”
A footman followed him with their meals on trays and Lucas entered his rooms to find Maisie sitting at a window, her right hand gently caressing her lower stomach—he was not sure she knew that she was doing it.
The door closing had her turning and Lucas paused, the bright rays from the window had formed a radiant ring around her head, and he felt humbled at her beauty.
Sitting across from her, he took her hand. “Since we must marry, I think it will be best if we do it in secret until we can find this foe and remove him. I only want to tell me faither and yers, then go to the kirk or have the priest come here.”
“Aye,” Maisie nodded. “I daenae mind. What happened on the trail?”
“We found naything and were fixin’ to come home until last night when two murderers tried to kill us,” Lucas rubbed her hands with his. “We tried to question them but they—they killed themselves instead. One swallowed poison and the other slit his throat.”
Maisie went white and pulled her hand from his, dropping it in her lap, “Good heavens…”
He sat back. “The thing is, lass, we’re at the crossroads of McKenna and Boar’ country, and the only inference is that the killers came from either clan, but never in me life have we ever had a problem with either.”
“What if they were only using those roads to go somewhere else?” Maisie asked, spooning her porridge. “That could be another explanation.”
