Highland Hellion (Highland Weddings #3)(82)

“We will make quite the spectacle sprawled upon the floor,” Katherine finished.

Niul raised his mug to her. “I thought ye could nae run a house.”

Katherine shrugged. “I am learning.”

“Did ye make that tart?”

She winked at him. “I did. So I shall apologize to the hounds later.”

He grinned at her, but his attention lowered to her belly. She wasn’t very far along, but the news that she’d conceived spread fast. Even William had looked pleased by the announcement that she was breeding.

If a toad could appear in any way pleasant, that was.

“Why have you never wed?”

It really wasn’t her concern, and yet she’d decided that she liked Niul. At that moment, he offered her the most serious expression she had ever seen on his face, and it dawned on her that his smile was a shield.

“Ye may have noticed how me brother feels about being in control,” Niul said. “I am bastard born, and William plans to keep the legitimate line of this family for himself.”

She heard the lament in his voice and found herself drawn to him. “His grip has been loosened.”

Niul contemplated her for a long moment.

“I do believe my husband would welcome the news of your wedding.”

“Ye’ve convinced a woman to take ye to husband?” Rolfe asked as he came through the doorway behind her.

Niul stiffened. Rolfe didn’t miss it. For a long moment, they looked at each other.

“I would toast to yer happiness, Uncle.”

It took a moment before Niul’s lips parted in a grin. “And I will gladly pledge me sword to ye and yer father for all of me days.”

There were smiles all around the kitchen, even as the staff tried to appear as though they were not listening. Rolfe caught Katherine around her waist, settling his hands over her belly.

“There is nothing to feel yet,” she advised him softly. Her husband was obsessed with her condition, petting her belly and speaking to their unborn babe every night before he slept.

“I disagree, Kat,” her husband whispered against her ear. “I feel the love ye bring to this hall.”

“Your father seems to be moved by it.”

Rolfe snorted against her ear. “Aye. Do I want to know why his hounds are vomiting in front of the hearth?”

“I am improving,” she offered. “Last month they wouldn’t eat it at all. The maid had to scoop it up.”

“I see.” Her husband was choking on his amusement. “Planning to wear him down?”

“Precisely.”

Rolfe laughed out loud before kissing the side of her neck and releasing her. He winked before disappearing around the doorframe, his kilt pleats swaying as he went. The breeze was brisk now, fall fully upon them. All around her, the last of the harvest was waiting to be sorted and stored for winter. The kitchen was full of activity, and even with her limited skills, there was plenty of work for her to do. Ceit seemed to possess a great deal of patience when it came to tutoring her.

Katherine went to pluck an apron off a hook and tie it around her waist to return to work.

She thought she felt something flutter inside her. It was soft and yet persistent. She stood for a long moment, trying to make sense of it, and then it came again.

Tap-tap-tap.

Soft and yet undeniably there. Like a little jab on the inside of her womb.

“Are ye feeling the babe?” Ceit asked excitedly. The Head of House wiped her hands on her apron and hurried over to lay her hand against Katherine’s belly.

“I think…perhaps I did.” And her voice was filled with the wonder of it. She’d known she was with child, had known the moment she began being sick every morning within moments of opening her eyes. Yet now, it was suddenly so much more real as she felt the little poking motion once again, laughing with joy.

“If ye feel it already, it’s a strong babe for certain,” Ceit exclaimed with her eyes sparkling. “Like his mother.”

Katherine realized that at last, her need for strength had somehow merged with her gender. It was true she could not turn a loaf of bread very well or seem to get the proportions correct on a tart, but as the months passed, she swelled round and large, and when her labor came, pushing her babe into the world was just another challenge she was ready to face. Fear was not something she allowed to spoil the experience.

Her son came into the world howling, his body pink and all of his limbs waving in fury at being forced from her womb. Katherine laughed through the pain, happily cradling her son as he gulped air for the first time. The pain was more a welcome for her child than a misery to be endured. Every contraction brought her closer to meeting her child, so she smiled when they began and gritted her teeth as they intensified. She sweated and groaned when at last she felt the baby leaving her womb, bearing down as the midwife ordered her to.

And then, there was only the excitement of meeting her son. They wiped him clean, soothing him as he opened his eyes and looked for her. There was a small army of women in the chamber who swaddled the baby and cleaned away the evidence of birth, wiping her down with damp cloths before they gave her a clean smock to wear.

She was sitting on the edge of their bed when Rolfe was let into the chamber at last.

He rushed toward her, his face lit with excitement.

William was right on his heels. The old goat even appeared to be grinning.