A Year and a Day (44 page)

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Authors: Stephanie Sterling

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“Do?”  Ewan asked, still dazed and winded from their embrace.

 

“About…about Lady
MacMillan
,” Cait asked shyly, well aware that she lacked even a smidgen of entitlement to
inquire
about
her replacement. She laid her emotions bare as she asked him, “Are you going to have to marry her after all?”

 

There was a moment of breathless silence. Cait bit her lip and swayed unsteadily on her feet as she waited for his answer to fall. When it came, it was unexpected:

 

Ewan
laughed.

 

“Ewan!” Cait snapped, not at all amused, “I don’t think that’s very funny!”

 

The
Laird
reached for her fingers, twining her tiny digits through his own, “I’m afraid that I have to disagree.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because I can’t believe you asked that question!”

 

Cait’s lip protruded into a pout, “And why is that?” she sniffed, “It seems perfectly logical, considering you’ve a whole castle full of guests waiting for you to marry someone else!”

 

“But I
can’t
marry someone else,” Ewan said lightly, bending forward to lay a comforting kiss against her brow. His concern was still deliciously potent. She melted immediately, smiling in spite of herself.

 

“Why not?” Cait asked, not really wanting to press the issue, but desperate for reassurance.

 

“Because…” Ewan whispered against her ear, pausing in between words to flick his tongue against the shell, “In case you’ve forgotten…” he tried to keep his voice light- although it was starting t
o seem like a very real threat!
“I’m already married to YOU!”

 

Cait’s face twisted into confusion, “I
was
married to you,” she said carefully.

 

“Did you revoke your vows?” Ewan asked.

 

“No, I…I didn’t think that was necessary,” Cait said breathlessly. “I thought…that…”

 

Ewan’s face flashed with a smile which he quickly suppressed, “Well, I didn’t either,” he admitted. “Owing, of course, to the fact that I thought you were dead.”

 

“But what does that mean?” Cait asked, searching his face. “Surely it doesn’t-!”

 

“Mean that we’re still married?” Ewan finished for her. He reached up to stroke a lock of hair out of her eyes, utterly unable to keep his hands off of her skin now that he’d finally decided that being angry had lost to his sense of relief. “I’m afraid so,” he chuckled at Cait’s look of horror, “Didn’t you
listen
to the vows you took?”
 

“No…I….”

Was too busy wondering when I’d wake up
, Cait thought, but didn’t say. She stared at Ewan- at her
husband
- like a stag sighted by hunters.

 

“So, it looks like you’re stuck with me,” Ewan whispered, reaching over to brush a kiss against her cheek, “Unless…” he frowned sharply, “Unless you don’t want to be? Unless you want to go back to the Frasures?”

 

“No!” Cait blurted, and then felt guilty for throwing off her kind patrons so quickly. “I mean…I…I’d rather come home,” she admitted, “I’d rather be here with you.”

 

Ewan was just leaning forward to kiss her again when they were interrupted by a heavy knock on the door and a strange, whining sound outside. “Go away!” Ewan roared automatically. He tightened his arms around Cait’s waist, clearly determined not to let her go for a good long while. The knocking, however, persisted.

 

Ewan’s face went bright red as he reluctantly released Cait and stalked toward the door to see who was brave enough to refuse a direct order from the
Laird
. He flung the door open- and then stared.
Alice
was standing there- cradling a squalling baby in her arms.

 

Ewan’s jaw dropped as he studied the baby- which looked for all the world like a minia
ture Cait! It had the same colo
red skin, the same dark hair, and it’s eyes were already shaded frosty green. Most striking of all were the similar features, and the way that its tiny arms flailed in the direction of its…mum?

 

“Well, I’m sorry, sir!”
Alice
blurted, full of
confidence as she strode into the room, curtseyed sketchily to Ewan, and then
turned to Cait. “But he’s
hungry and just couldn’t wait. Lady Frasure sent me to fetch you.”

 

Without waiting for an answer, Mary Alice handed her little bundle to Cait. Then, her cheekiness apparently knowing no bounds, scuttled off without another word.

 

Ewan stared at his wife, barely knowing what to say. Cait? A wetnurse? How was that possible unless…? His heart twisted painfully as he considered the possibility. Had Cait forgotten to renounce her vows because she’d already married someone else?

 

“Yours?” he croaked, staring down at the child when the maid had finally gone. He felt a surge of relief- along with disbelief- when Cait shook her head. That quickly evaporated in the face of her guilty flush.

 


Ours
,” she finally whispered.

 

“OURS?” Ewan fairly croaked, and sat back down heavily in his chair.

 

Cait bit her lip uncertainly, trying to read his expression. He looked as if a cannonball had just landed in his lap! “That’s why I went away!” she blurted, unable to stand another bout of silence, especially when things were going so well.

 

Ewan shook his head, dazed and numb, “Why didn’t you tell me?!”

 

“I tried!” Cait insisted, jostling little Robert and trying to get him to shush. There really wasn’t any point in
both
of them crying! “I was going to tell you when you came to visit…only, you were so changed! You kept going on and on about how you didn’t want a baby…”

 

Ewan cringed as he remembered. He’d been trying to convince himself, more than her! After all, the desire to have a child- a
son
- was what had started him off with marrying Cait to begin with. He had simply felt so trapped by the
Laird
’s commands!

 

“I didn’t mean it!” Ewan said, desperate to reassure her. He cast an eye toward the baby-
his
baby- curious and suddenly overwhelmed.

 

Cait caught the look. “Would you like to see him?”

 


Him
?”  Ewan
echoed,
his voice
thick with
awe.

 

Cait nodded gently and held the child out for its father to see.

 

Unfortunately,
Robert
wasn’t at his best
. He was still
squalling at the top of his lungs and
had turned
red-faced from his exertions. He didn’t smell quite perfect either
. Cait fretted as she watched Ewan’s face.
T
o her astonishment and relief, Ewan didn’t seem to care. He had the strangest smile on his face.

 

“I have a
son
,” Ewan said, a note of pride clearly coloring his voice. He didn’t seem to notice the screaming or the stink. The tentative smile on his face erupted into a full fledge
d
grin. “A
son!
” he said again, this time sounding excited.

 

Cait released a breath
that
she hadn’t realized that she was holding. “He was born this past winter,” she told him, leaning over his shoulder
. She felt
a bubble of pure warmth well up in her heart as she watched them together, father and son, for the very first time.

 

“A handsome little thing, isn’t he?” Ewan said thoughtfully, his gaze becoming more worshipful by the second.

 

“Like his father,” Cait answered quietly, finally allowing herself a ghost of a smile.

 

Ewan lifted the baby up, apparently intending to inspect his limbs, but was met with a scream that eclipsed all of the others in intensity and volume. “Quite a set of lungs too!” Ewan said, more proud than annoyed.

 

Cait giggled and plucked the baby out of Ewan’s arms. “He’s hungry,” she explained, remembering Ewan’s fondness for meals and wondering if her son’s voracious appetite was something else he had inherited from his father. She quickly untied the front of her bodice and offered the baby her breast. She smiled when he calmed immediately.

 

Ewan leaned over her shoulder, reaching forward to stroke the baby’s cheek. “What’s his name?” he asked in a hushed voice.

 

“Robert,” she answered quietly.

 

“Robert,” Ewan echoed, still stroking the baby’s skin, “Little Robert. Like- like my wee brother who’s gone.”

 

Cait caught her breath. Honestly, she’d all but forgotten about the former Robert Cameron. She had been thinking of Lady Frasure’s son when she selected the name.

 

So many Roberts
, Cait thought, holding her baby closer,
so many reminders of loss
. Cait was determined that
this
Robert was a symbol of rebirth. She had gained so much. Cait’s eyes welled up with tears when she realized that, once again, fortune had smiled. In another dizzying turn of events, she was home again.

 

Ewan sat back into his chair and pulled Cait- and by extension, their baby- into his arms. He stared down at both of them adoringly as Robert continued to nurse. He felt so odd. He likened the feeling to the one just after battle was over: euphoric, relieved and exhausted.

 

“He needs a change,” Cait remarked, breaking the comfortable silence between them when she got a whiff of the baby. “I’ll have to go back to my room and get a change of nappy.”

 

“We could send a maid,” Ewan murmured, reluctant to release his wife from the pleasant cocoon that their bodies had formed.

 

Cait considered the idea, but rejected it. “I need to speak to Lady Frasure,” Cait said, worried about how much the old lady had heard already. “She needs to hear the truth from me.”

 

“What did you tell her?” Ewan asked, frowning.

 

Cait sighed, knowing very well that he wasn’t going to like what she had to say. “I’ll tell you later,” she promised, popping a kiss on his cheek.

 

“I’ll come with you,” Ewan countered. He couldn’t explain it. Now that he finally had Cait- and little Robert- back in his life, he couldn’t bear to let her out of his sight.

 

Cait nodded, “Oh! But don’t you have things to do?”

 

“They can wait!” Ewan insisted, but then reconsidered. Someone would have to explain to
Mary
what was going on. As dearly as he wanted to delegate the duty, he feared that it had to be him. “Or…I could find you after I speak with Lady
MacMillan
.”

 

Cait sighed sadly, “What do you think she’ll do?”

“What
can
she do?” Ewan posed the rhetorical question. He walked with Cait to the Frasure’s chambers, protecting her from the curious onlookers, and then he traced his steps back to the room where
Mary
had been housed- only, it was empty.

 

Ewan supposed it wasn’t
so
surprising for her to be gone. No doubt she had chosen to be with friends, or possibly she had gone to the nursery to see her children? Something felt
wrong
though- so wrong that he collared her maid when he slipped back into the hall. “Where is Lady Cambpell?” he demanded of the small, black-haired creature.

 

The maid looked distinctly nervous. “She…er…went for a walk with Master Cameron, sir,” she spoke, clearly speaking of James. “Er…isn’t she back yet?”

 

Ewan frowned and shook his head, thinking that the whole thing was odd, but frankly relieved. He left the guest quarters, intending to go and look for Cait, but
Laird
MacMillan
was stalking up the hall. Ewan took a sharp left and scurried up the back staircase, deciding to hunker down in his room and wait for her instead.

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