Rose and her father were still debating the benefits of bed rest when Deidra and William arrived with Liam and his nurse. William bounced the solemn wean while Deidra made faces and noises, causing Liam to emit strange moans that seemed to signal pleasure. Alan’s eyes lit up at the sight of his nephew. Despite the pain of his brother’s deception, he held none of it against the baby. He was overjoyed to finally have an heir to raise and train.
While Rose was distracted at the sight of William, Alan slipped out of bed and took the baby, thus making it impossible for Rose to force him back into the bed.
She sighed. “Very well. But you are not to overexert yourself.”
He ignored her, gently bobbling his nephew while Deidra showed Alan the little gowns and hats the wet nurse had made for him. Rose’s father exclaimed over each item as if it were a priceless treasure. Though Rose and William had not yet wed, Alan was already enjoying his role as Deidra’s grandfather. He asked her to bring him a different animal every day to converse with, and Deidra was happy to oblige.
Rose turned her attention back to William and found him gazing at her oddly, a slightly bemused look on his face. She’d caught him looking at her so several times over the past few days. When she questioned him about it, he only shook his head, refusing to reveal his thoughts. She raised impatient brows at him, and this time he inclined his head. She followed, leaving her father with Hagan and Deidra.
She led him to her chambers, where they could havesome privacy. They had not made love again since the first time, and every touch and look from him set her body aflame in anticipation of their impending wedding night. The banns had been posted the past two Sundays and would be announced the third and final time tomorrow. They were to be married immediately afterward.
Inside her chambers, with the door closed, he pulled her close and kissed her. She sank into the warmth of his mouth, twining her arms around his neck. He pulled away too soon, his fingers threading through the hair at her temple, pulling it free of her braid and rubbing it between his fingers. It was streaked with dozens of snowy white strands.
“You’ve been healing,” he said reproachfully.
Rose shrugged. “Nothing much. Just some burns in the kitchen, and Cook cut himself.” Rose curled her hand into a fist at the memory of that. It had been a most horrific wound. Cook would have been forced to retire his ladle if she had not mended him.
“Prithee return to conventional healing if that suffices—and surely kitchen burns and cuts aren’t a matter of life and death.”
Rose made a face at him. “You find me ugly with white hair?”
He slid his hand over her head, cupping her neck. “Never. I just…fash for you.”
“Why?”
He took a deep breath. “Because I don’t know what it means, how it works. I sometimes wonder if every time I heal someone it…subtracts time from my life. And the gray hair…maybe I lost a day for every gray hair.” He touched her white hairs again, his throat working as he swallowed hard. “Before…it didn’t matter. The sooner, the better. But now…now everything has changed.”
Rose pressed herself against his chest. His arms came around her, and he lay his cheek atop her head.
When she could speak again, she said, “Then I must needs heal more, so I can catch up to you, aye?” She reached up, sifting her fingers through black and silver silk. “For you have lost many more days than I have.”
“Do not speak so. No more healing for you—at least for another year or so.”
Rose pulled back to frown at him. “Why?”
He looked down, his gaze resting on her belly. “Because our child needs all of your strength.”
Rose gasped, mouth agape. “How can you tell? I’ve barely missed my courses. How do you know?”
His mouth curved into a bemused smile. “Because I see him. His color is different from yours.”
Rose’s hand went to her belly, joy filling her. She had never been able to see her own color—but of course he could, and if there was life inside her, he would see that.
“What color is he?”
“Green, like sage.”
She arched a brow at him. “How do you know it’s a boy?”
He lifted a shoulder. “I don’t.” He covered her hand with his, pressing it into her belly. He kissed her again, his mouth warm and urgent, and Rose thought it impossible to love someone more. Just a month ago she’d never expected to be so happy. But she knew it wasn’t over. They still had Strathwick to return to, and life was different there.
Later that night, after Deidra had fallen asleep, they stood on the battlements together, gazing across the water to the flickering lights of the village. William’s arms were warm and heavy around her shoulders. She pressed closer, her hand on the hard muscles of his belly, thinking still of how to make peace with the people of Strathwick. She pulled away suddenly and fixed William with a determined stare.
He raised a brow at her sudden animation.
“You must tell Allister that he is your brother.”
Both brows raised. “That’s not a good idea, methinks.”
