“Good mornin’, me lady,” said Layla in a chirpy tone, a bright smile gracing her face. “How are ye feelin’ today?”
Though Layla sounded cheerful and carefree as always, there was an edge to her voice, something that River quickly recognized as concern. Her she smiled at her, her eyes were just a little too narrow, too sharp, as if she was trying to look right through her and find the ailment by sight alone.
River realized then that no one apart from her, Jenson, Finlay, and Archer knew she was pregnant. She doubted any of the three men would have told anyone else, and so it was no wonder that Layla was still concerned for her.
“I’m alright, Layla,” said River, though her fatigue was evident in her voice. Nausea had gripped her again from the moment she had swung her legs over the bed, and now that she was walking around the room, trying to get ready as Layla opened the windows and let the fresh air in, she was struggling to walk without heaving.
“Ye daenae look alright, me lady,” Layla said, now her concern clear, with nothing to hide behind. She rushed to River’s side, laying a hand between her shoulder blades, and River could feel it trembling.
“I am,” River assured her. “I’m nae ill.”
“Me lady?—”
“I’m nae ill,” River repeated. “I’m pregnant.”
Behind her, Layla froze. River could feel it in the way her hand stiffened where it lay on her back, as if she had been dealt a blow.
“And the Laird?”
The question was asked slowly, hesitantly, in a voice so quiet it made River think Layla didn’t even want her to hear it. Though they had hardly spoken about Archer, especially since her regained his memories, Layla seemed to be quite perceptive—at least enough to understand that something was wrong between them.
“He will be movin’ back to his old quarters.”
It was all River said; it was all she had to say. The hand on her back softened and gave her a gentle pat, and River could have laughed at the gesture if she didn’t find it so earnest, so kind.
Before Layla could say anything else, River spoke, just so Layla wouldn’t worry too much—or pity her. River didn’t know which would be worse.
“I have a letter that I need to be delivered,” she said and she walked over to the desk, where she had kept the letter she had written to Aidan, along with every letter he had sent her. She fished it out of the pile and handed it to Layla, who took it in her hands carefully, so as to not wrinkle the paper.
“Is this for yer brother?” she asked, once again perceptive.
“Aye,” said Layla and at least for a brief moment, she could breathe a sigh of relief. Some of the weight disappeared from her shoulders, but it was not enough for her to draw in a full breath.
“Ye read his letters?”
“Aye,” said River. “And…and I should have never doubted him.”
Layla’s smile widened as she looked at River, which in turn offered River another wave of relief. It reminded her that she had people who loved her there with her. She had Layla, she had Finlay, she had Arya and Colby; even if she couldn’t have Archer, even if her child grew up without a fatherly presence, they would both be loved.
Her child would be so loved.
“I’m glad, me lady,” Layla said. “It often is that way.”
For a moment, River wondered if Layla was referring to Archer, too, but she didn’t ask to clarify; she didn’t want to. It was one thing, knowing that her brother loved her, and another hoping that Archer would.
A knock on the door pulled River out of her thoughts and she turned to see it remain closed. It was odd; most of her visitors simply entered after knocking, but now she had to call this one in.
And when she did, it was Keir who entered, much to her surprise.
“Keir…what are ye doin’ here?” she asked, puzzled.
“The entire castle is sayin’ that we’re ill,” said Keir, and that certainly wasn’t a surprise. News traveled fast, and soon enough, everyone would know the real reason behind her illness, too.
Before River could respond, Keir’s gaze fell on Layla as she came to the sitting room, and his features contorted in such a strange way that River feared something had happened to him.
“Me l…Layla,” he said, stuttering through the words. “Layla. Good mornin’.”
River had to stifle her laughter. Ever since she had found out Keir harbored an intense and not so secret love for Layla, she had begun to see the man with different eyes. She had alwaysfound him churlish to say the least, but with Layla, he was a different person.
