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His sincere joy had her smiling. With a good night sleep and feeling herself once again she felt safe succumbing to his charm, and besides she loved that about him. The way he could smile and find pleasure in the simplest of things.
“You intend a large family?” she asked.
“Only if you agree.”
He gave her a choice and that was unlike most men, but then after last night and meeting his family, she realized that the Sinclare brothers were unlike most men.
Alyce found herself being honest with him. “I wouldn’t mind a large family.”
Lachlan walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her. “We agree on something.”
“Don’t get used to it,” she teased with a grin while her stomach rumbled loudly.
Lachlan laughed. “Hungry?”
“Actually, yes,” she said, though it had been only a couple of hours since she had eaten.
“Then let’s get you fed and then we can gather your things from my no-longer-necessary bedchamber and move them here.”
She liked the idea, making this cottage their home, though she refused to admit it.
They entered the keep and had the table before the hearth to themselves, the room otherwise empty.
“What do the women do all day?” Alyce asked after sitting at the table and surprised to see a servant girl ready with a pitcher of cider and a plate of bread, meat, and cheese.
Lachlan sat across from her reaching for a hunk of cheese. “Zia is busy at her healing cottage. My mother and Honora sometimes help her but most of the time they are busy running the keep, seeing to the babes and stitching.”
“I don’t stitch,” Alyce said as if she admitted a great sin.
“Honora and my mother, with help from some of the women in the village, do most of the necessary stitching. You needn’t worry about it.”
But she did, for what would she do all day? She had loved her busy life, and she couldn’t grasp doing nothing. With winter near upon them and the garden dormant, there was no planting to see to. She could string a fine bow, but who here would allow her to do that. She was good at settling disputes, but that was Cavan’s duty. She was good at preparing meals, each woman having taken her turn, but here there were servants to do that, and she loved planting and tending the fields, but she had a feeling her kitchen garden would be the only land she would be expected to tend.
The partially open door creaked open more and in walked Princess with a haughty raise of her chin.
“My dog Princess,” Lachlan said as the animal walked over to Alyce. “And her name suits her well.”
Princess sat in front of Alyce and stared at her.
“She wants a pat,” Lachlan explained.
Alyce laughed and patted her head then rubbed behind her ear. “I like her.”
“Princess goes and comes as she chooses and expects to be catered to.”
“And you oblige her?” Alyce asked.
“How do you deny a Princess?” Lachlan asked and the dog sauntered over to him to sit and lean against his leg.
Alyce’s stomach protested again and with it came a kick and none too gentle. Her hand flew to her stomach and her eyes rounded.
Lachlan hurried to her side, his hand covering hers and his arm slipping around her waist. “What’s wrong?”
“He’s moved before, but he’s never kicked me,” she admitted with a surprised laugh. “He’s strong.” She moved her hand so that Lachlan’s lay flat against her stomach. “Show your father your strength.”
As if on command he kicked again.
Lachlan gasped. “Did you feel that?”
“I certainly did,” Alyce said laughing.
Lachlan pressed his cheek to hers. “It feels strange to me and I only have my hand on you. I cannot imagine how it must feel for you.”
“Just as strange, but somehow right and comforting,” she admitted. Her stomach gurgled again.
“We must feed him; he protests.”
They hooked hands and left the cottage, Princess prancing alongside Lachlan, and for a moment Alyce felt as if she were home and the thought warmed her.
Late afternoon found Alyce tired and she retired to the cottage to nap, though only for an hour. She woke with a start and decided to roam the village. The sky had darkened from when she slept and the scent of rain remained in the air. She braided her blond hair and wrapped her green shawl around her to keep the dampness at bay; she made certain to wear boots, the ground still thick with mud in spots
The village was a bustle of activity with all calling a friendly greeting to her. She was offered drink and food, which she kindly turned down. Other women offered newly made candles or plants from their gardens, and one woman insisted she take a beautifully crafted basket to carry it all in. By the time she came upon Zia’s healing cottage her basket was full, though of what she wasn’t certain.
