Samantha James (24 page)

Slowly she raised her head. He did not flinch, yet neither did he answer. A faint smile touched the hardness of his lips, yet she glimpsed something almost sad within the depths of his eyes.

“Tell me, Egan.
Why did you never marry
?”

His smile ebbed. His voice fell gently through the silence.

“Don’t you know?”

Unable to speak, unable to tear her gaze from his, she shook her head.

“Because,” he said softly, “you were the only one I ever wanted.”

You were the only one I ever wanted
.

Glenda was wholly undone. She was afraid to hope. Afraid to believe…reaching up, she placed her fingers on the lean hardness of his cheek.

“Egan—” She choked back a sob.

There was a thunderous crashing on the door. “My lord!”

He cursed beneath his breath. “I must go.”

“Egan…come back safely!”

His eyes darkened. “I will.” A kiss into her palm, and he was gone.

With the closing of the door, she could no longer contain the storm in her heart.

For Glenda had a secret of her own.

She had said nothing to either Egan or Nessa, but she had not felt the babe stir since noonday yesterday. Now an excruciating pain passed through her, a blade through the heart. She wanted to cry and curse, scream and rage. Was she cursed, forever destined to lose both child and husband?

She could bear it if the babe were to die, she realized suddenly. With the first, there had been no one,
no one to hold her, no one to mourn as she did. Oh, it would be hard, a bruise upon her soul to wear for many a day. But aye, she could bear it, if only Egan were here to hold her, to share the loss as only a husband could share.

But what if she should lose
him
?

She turned her face into the pillow. Hot, bitter tears streamed from her eyes, but she made not a sound.

Throughout the day the people of Blackstone waited tensely, including their mistress. Night cloaked the world in darkness, and still Egan did not return.

It was early into the next morn when Glenda felt a subtle, cramplike drawing low in her belly. She gasped, her hands flying to her belly. For one frozen instant, it sped through her consciousness that it was her time. Yet the sensation was gone almost instantly.

It came again, but an hour later.

By noon, there could be no doubt…for this, too, was something Glenda had experienced once before. Dead or alive, her bairn was about to be born.

And once again, without her husband near.

Early in the day, Murphy and Holmes were discovered deep in the forest.

Their throats had been slashed.

It was a grim-faced party that returned to Blackstone Tower. The bodies of Murphy and Holmes were slung over the backs of two horses.

“My lord.” Two servants ran up to where he paced in the stables, tugging at his sleeve.

Egan shook them off. He was in the grip of the most vile rage he had ever known. Murphy had left
behind a wife and two little ones. Holmes was not yet wed, but his mother’s wails still echoed in his ears.

If Simon had done this, by God, he would pay. All that had gone before was bad enough, but murder…Frustration roiled within him, for the same dilemma still plagued him! He couldn’t go to the earl with unfounded charges, but he had no evidence! If only there was a way to make this man reveal himself!

He needed to think, to weigh and consider, for he would not act on the vengeful wrath that seared his veins; therein might lay the path of ruin and regret. Whoever had done this was clever. He must be careful.

“My lord,” quavered the other man.

“Not now, dammit!”

The two men quailed. The glare bestowed on them was so fierce they instinctively fell back.

It was a young groom who finally braved his anger. The lad stepped forward, clearing his throat. “My lord.”

Egan whirled on him, fists clenched at his side. “What?” he thundered.

“’Tis your lady,” the boy said. “The babe comes.”

Egan’s eyes turned toward the tower. “What?” he said dumbly. “Now?”

“Aye, my lord.”

The two servants looked at each other. Never in all their days had they seen a man turn white as a lamb’s belly—and such a fearsome one as their lord, yet!

Egan was already halfway to the tower. He burst
through the door to Glenda’s chamber, his insides tied in knots.

Nessa was at the bedside, bathing Glenda’s forehead with a cool cloth. At the crash of the door, the old woman’s head swiveled to regard him in a baleful glare. The birthing of babes was women’s work, but it seemed this one was to be the exception, like it or no.

“’Tis high time you arrived!” she snapped.

He faltered. “But Nessa,” he whispered. “I thought it was still too soo—”

She gave a quick shake of her head—a warning, he realized suddenly.

“Ah, but this babe should have been here by now,” the old woman said stoutly, “but Glenda is stubborn! She bites back the pain. She insists that you must be here, that the child would not be born until you were. But this child will wait no longer!”

Egan swallowed. He stared hard at Glenda. She lay in the center of the bed. Her skin was ashen, her lips swollen and torn and bloodied. Her eyes were glazed; he sensed she was unaware of his presence. Never had he seen her so frail and weak! For one terrifying moment, he feared he might lose her forever.

Then a hand fluttered limply toward the mound of her belly. “Nay,” she said feebly. “Not yet, little one. Not yet.”

Three strides took him to her side. He sank to his knees. “Glenda!” he said raggedly.

Through the fog that surrounded her, Glenda sensed that something was different. Egan’s voice
called to her. She glimpsed his craggy features, like the sun blazing through the mist.

Strong hands captured hers, mating their fingers together. Bending his head, he rubbed the bristly roughness of his cheek against the back of her hand. The wordless tenderness of the gesture wrenched at her. He was unshaven and gaunt, but never had he looked so dear! He was here, as he had promised. She needed him, and he was here. Taking care of her, as always.

“I told Nessa you would come,” she breathed. “She doubted you.”

Egan stole a glance at Nessa, who had hobbled to the foot of the bed. “I am not surprised,” he said dryly. “I’ve yet to win your nursemaid’s approval.” He shook his head. “I fear I am at a loss as to how it might be done.”

Glenda smiled faintly. Egan felt his heart squeeze. She was so strong, so brave. Yet all at once she shuddered. His big hands trembled around hers. He prayed she wouldn’t feel it, yet she clung to him so tightly her nails dug into his palm.

“Nessa,” she gasped. “I think it will not be long now.” Throughout the afternoon, the spasms of her womb had grown closer together, with mounting strength and urgency. With each and every pain that seized her, she hadn’t been able to stop her gaze from straying to the door. But now there was no need to fight any longer…

From the foot of the bed, Nessa nodded. “I think ye’re right, lassie.”

Her back arched. She moaned, the sound tearing from her throat, so great was the pressure that surged
between her thighs. It appeared that now her husband was here, her body was one with her mind after all, and there was no need to wait any longer.

Nessa gave encouragement. “Aye, lassie, that’s the way! I can see the head. Breathe now, girl!”

Anxious, tired and afraid all at once, Glenda obeyed. Her lungs filled with air. With a deep, racking breath, her belly heaved, straining to be rid of the burden it had carried for so long now.

The babe spilled from her in a rush. She sank back upon the pillows, exhausted.

“A girl”—through a haze, she heard Nessa—“a wee lassie!”

But Glenda had heard the break in her voice. She raised her head from the pillow, unable to mask her fear. “Does she live? Tell me, does she live?” She caught just a glimpse of a slippery, wet head in Nessa’s hands…saw the glaze of tears in her nursemaid’s eyes.

“No!” she cried. “No!”

A tiny fist flailed. A thin, wavering cry filled the air.

Glenda burst into dry, wrenching sobs. “Let me hold her. Let me hold her!”

“A moment, lass. She must be cleaned and swaddled.” Glenda was still sobbing when Nessa laid the tiny bundle into her upraised arms.

Egan rose to his feet. He stood awkwardly for a moment, then finally stumbled toward the door. In the hall, every eye turned upon him. A dozen figures rushed toward him.

“My lord!”

“All is well?”

He nodded.

“The babe?”

“A girl,” he heard himself say.

A hand at his shoulder urged him onto a stool. Someone brought him ale. He downed it in a gulp, then another and another. Time passed in a haze. The next thing he knew, the hall was deserted, and Nessa stood before him.

“You’ve yet to see yer child,” she announced. Gnarled fingers parted the swaddling so he could see.

Egan rose slowly to his feet. He stared. Dear God, he thought in amazement, in all his days, he’d never seen a creature so small.

“Take her,” Nessa prompted.

Egan started to reach for her. All at once he stopped. Awareness struck. One of his hands was nearly as big as her entire body!

He swallowed, suddenly very much in awe of this wee creature. “I cannot. What if I hurt her?”

The corner of Nessa’s mouth turned down. “You’ll not.”

Before he knew what was about, he stared down at the tiny being nestled in the curve of his elbow.

Nessa stepped back with a sniff. “Let us hope she does not have such a liking for ale as her father!”

The ghost of a smile sped across his lips. “Aye,” he agreed. She weighed no more than a goose feather! he realized in amazement.

“She is well?”

“Possessed of a full and healthy set of limbs and lungs, I assure you.”

“Glenda will be pleased,” he murmured. En
tranced, he regarded his daughter. She was asleep, a wee fist curled against the curve of her cheek. Her hair, what little there was of it, was sleek and dark. The babe was unmistakably his.

The emotion that rushed through him nearly buckled his knees. Suddenly his smile froze.

“Oh, Christ,” he said hoarsely.

“What!” Nessa demanded. “Are ye disappointed with a daughter, then? If ye are, ye’d best keep it to yerself!”

“’Tis not that.” His gaze lifted slowly to Nessa’s face.

“What then?” The sting faded from Nessa’s tone. His expression was most odd. She knew not what to make of it.

Egan’s mouth was dry. Gently, almost reverently, he touched the babe’s fist. “Nessa, I know not how to explain. I never thought to have…her. Glenda. Any of this. A keep like Blackstone. Lands. A child. And now that I do…’tis humbling. Frightening at times, for so very much depends on me…”

Nessa tipped her head to the side. Most men would never admit to such, for fear it might be perceived as a weakness.

Yet Nessa saw it only as strength. Strength of a kind that could not be seen in stamina, prowess, or the might of the sword.

A strength that came from within.

“I would put my faith in ye before any other,” she stated bluntly.

Egan’s eyes widened. Could it be that the approval he’d never thought to gain was his after all? He smiled slightly.

Nessa gazed at him steadily. “I know ye love her, lad. Ye should tell her.”

His smile withered.

“Do ye deny it?”

“Nay.” He hesitated, his voice very low. “You do not know how it is. How I feel—”

“I can. I do.”

“What do you mean, Nessa?”

“I loved from afar once. But I thought…he was far above me in station, ye see. And so I watched while he loved another, while he married another.”

Egan inhaled. Nessa in love! Yet was it really so strange? Nessa was a woman who would have loved without question, without reservation. ’Twas then that the strangest notion sped through his mind…but no, he thought. It could not be…

“I held his wee ones in my arms, as if they were my own. I watched them grow as if they were my own! Indeed, I was a mother to them when their own died. And I was the one who held tight to his hand when he breathed his last.”

Egan spoke very quietly. “It was Royce, Glenda’s father, wasn’t it?”

Nessa said nothing. But Egan gleaned the answer from the way tears stood high and bright in her faded eyes.

“You never told him, did you?”

“Naught would have come of it. He was never within reach, and I knew it. I understood that, and so I said nothing.” It was a painful truth that Nessa acknowledged. “’Tis different for ye, lad.”

Silence drifted between them. Egan’s throat closed
tight, thinking about all she said. She made it sound so easy—but easy it was not!

At length Nessa reached for the babe. “Ye should tell her,” Nessa said again before she left him alone.

A short time later, Egan made his way to her chamber. Glenda was propped up against the pillows, her head dipped low over the babe. She was clad in a fresh, clean gown; her hair had been combed and lay in a cloud about her shoulders. His gaze trickled slowly over her, drinking in the sight of her, more dear to him than anything in the world. The bodice of the gown was unlaced, baring the generous swell of one bare breast. Their daughter suckled at the rosy-tipped fullness. Egan couldn’t help but note how the skin of her breast was almost translucent, pale and gleaming and invitingly full.

Yet for a timeless moment he stood there, feeling very much the intruder. He was afraid to move. Afraid to destroy the moment, reminded keenly of how she’d waited so long for this, the chance to hold her infant in her arms. Years. He hated to rob her of any of it…

Then Glenda glanced up and spied him standing on the threshold. Their eyes meshed. A hot possessiveness swept over him then. This was his wife. His child.
His
. A flush colored her cheeks and crept down her lovely throat and into her naked breasts, but she did not avert her gaze. Nor did she seek to cover herself, even when he moved to sit directly beside her, the stretch of his muscled thigh riding gently against the softness of her form.

“I looked for you earlier, but you were gone,” she
confided breathlessly. “Have you met your daughter yet?”

His gaze roved her face. The skin beneath her eyes looked almost bruised. She was pale and looked incredibly weary, yet a glow surrounded her that had been absent before.

“Nessa brought her down to me,” he murmured. “I must say, she terrified me.”

“You…terrified! Why?”

“She’s so tiny,” he said ruefully. “And I am not exactly that.”

He trailed a finger down the infant’s cheek, his skin very dark against the little one’s.