Ewan watched Faye as she slept, the nip of worry at the back of his mind getting progressively sharper and more insistent. For the last few days, she lay in bed a little longer each morning, sleeping deeply. Despite the amount of rest she had received, smudges of exhaustion still bruised the delicate skin under her eyes.
A gentle knock came at the door.
He answered the door and found Moiré with a mug of steaming liquid in her hand. “Is she still unwell?” she asked.
Ewan nodded. “Aye, I think ’tis time to send for a healer.”
“I’d give it a bit more time,” Moiré replied with a certainty that offered some comfort. “Give her this. It should help.”
Ewan took the cup and cradled the hot beverage in his palm. “Do ye think…” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Do ye think she’s with child?”
Moiré pursed her lips. “I’m no’ certain,” she replied slowly.
“We should call for the healer,” he said with finality.
“Mayhap, ask her?” Moiré suggested. “A woman knows if she requires a healer or no’.”
Ewan nodded, thanked her and quietly closed the door. “Faye,” he said softly. “I’ve got a tea for ye from Moiré.” He sat on the bed and gently squeezed his wife’s silky shoulder.
Faye’s eyes blinked open, heavy with fatigue.
“Moiré sent this tea for ye.” He held it out.
Faye wrinkled her nose. “Toss it out and tell her I drank it, please.”
“Do ye no’ like it?” He sniffed at a tendril of steam and was hit with a musty odor and an underlying sharpness that made his nose burn.
His face puckered with disgust.
Faye laughed, and she pushed up to a sitting position. “’Tis how I feel about it. I took a sip once and immediately was ill.”
Ewan set the mug aside. “Speaking of being ill…” He took her hand and found it warm from sleep—hopefully sleep, and not a fever. That thought chilled him. “I’d like to call a healer.”
She shook her head and gave a wan smile. “I’ll be fine soon. I just need a few more days, aye?”
“I’d feel better if we call a healer.” Ewan frowned. “Faye, I’m worried about ye.” He moved his thumb over the back of her hand, stroking it.
How he loved touching her smooth skin, reveling in the softness of it under his own callused fingers. Her lips lifted at the corners. He loved that too, her reaction to his touch.
He leaned toward her and nuzzled his nose next to hers before tilting her head back gently for a brief kiss.
I love ye.
He needed to say those words to her one of these days. But every time he thought to do it, he feared it might be the one thing to frighten her off. Faye might feel things deeply, but she was slow to express them. It was best for her to say it first, to allow her the control of stating her heart before he did.
“I care for ye, Faye.” He kissed her again. “So verra much.”
She stared up at him, her eyes soft with an affection that grazed the depths of his heart. “I care for ye too, Ewan.”
“Promise me ye’ll summon the healer if this doesna improve,” he said. “I dinna want anything to happen to ye.”
She nodded.
“And if ye’re no’ better in sennight, I’m calling the healer.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but he shook his head. “Nay, lass. This has already gone on long enough. I should call for her today.” Regret effused him. He shouldn’t have listened to Moiré and given Faye an option. The thought of waiting even longer made an unpleasant knot tense in his gut.
“’Tis fine, truly.” Faye slipped from his grasp and eased up from the bed. “Do ye see? I’m fine.”
He didn’t reply. Something was amiss, and he didn’t like it.
“Go on about yer tasks, husband.” She pulled him to standing from where he sat on the bed. “And leave me to mine.”
He drew her toward him and inhaled her floral scent. “I’m worried about ye.”
She smiled up at him. “Ye needn’t be.” She kissed him once more, then nudged him toward the door.
He left with a heavy heart and waited a moment after the door closed behind him. As expected, the painful sounds of her retching came from the other side. He frowned. Surely, she was with child. It had to be why the women were acting so strangely. Why then wouldn’t Faye allow a healer to see to her?
The question plagued him all through the day as he met with Monroe and saw to tenants on his land. It rolled around in his mind, a rock worn smooth with worry, even as he finally went to his solar to tend to his correspondence. A folded parchment lay on his desk, its wax closure absent a signet marking.
He cracked the thick seal and swept away the small flecks that littered the surface of his desk. The parchment whispered in his hands as he unfolded it, as though confiding its secrets.
Careful handwriting looped over the page. His gaze slipped first to the end and found Blair’s signature at the bottom. A warning prickled at the back of his neck. What did she want?
He skimmed over the contents, and his hand tightened into a fist. He’d been correct. His uncle had been up to something. Blair had information to share but couldn’t write it in a missive in case Cruim found out. She asked to meet him in two days’ time at a cottage near the Shepherd’s Flock tavern in the village.
Faye wouldn’t like him meeting with Blair, but the note held no insinuation of seduction, and he had need of the knowledge she wished to share. He only hoped she wouldn’t play coy with him again, offering a trade of information for his affections. It was too steep a price to pay.
Monroe entered the solar with a ledger in his hand.
“Did ye leave this missive for me earlier?” Ewan asked.
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 tension lifted from her shoulders. She laughed with delight and caught Moiré in an embrace. “Thank ye.”
“Of course,” Moiré replied. “I’m glad ye’ll know soon.”
“As am I,” Faye replied.
Despite the occasional flicker of doubt, she suspected the healer would tell her exactly what she felt in her gut: she truly was with child. And once she was certain, she would finally be able to tell Ewan.