Page 50 of To Claim His Highland Bride

“Not given,” Rowena corrected. “You had the arduous task of recovering it from the bottom of the sea and deep inside the Cave of Gold.”

“True, but all that was still easier than finding treasure myself.”

“Did you ever think that you were given the gift of the treasure for a reason? When you started this journey eight months ago, you left alone with a hired crew you knew nothing about. Now Eck is a dear friend, and your men have proven they will do anything for you.”

“They are good men. A rare thing these days.” With a smile he gathered her against his chest. “Good women even more unusual.”

“And now you have an extraordinary, fearless woman as your partner for life.” She wrapped her arms around his neck as laughter spilled from him.

“Extraordinary, indeed!”

After a long kiss, Rowena stepped back. “Now that we know how we can stay together in the weeks ahead, I have a treasure to finish counting and you need to take us home to Dunvegan so we can tell my brothers of our future plans.”

Marcus’s face was still wreathed in a smile as he stepped back, clicked his boot heels together, and offered her a salute. “By your command, my Highland bride.”

Chapter Twenty-One

They arrived back at Dunvegan two days later. The castle was a flurry of activity, but they had no idea why until they found Mrs Morgan pacing at the top of the stairwell. When the chatelaine saw Rowena her eyes rounded. “Oh, thank goodness, yer home. Gwendolyn’s in labour.”

Rowena hurried up the stairs, leaving Marcus behind. “Are Gwendolyn and the baby all right? Is Lottie with her?” The short woman’s face was filled with a tension that brought a sudden tightness to Rowena’s chest.

“Lottie, Alastair, and Fiona are in the laird’s bedchamber with her, but it’s been so long since we’ve had a babe in this castle I’m nae certain what I should do? Boil water? Bring clean linens? Go tae the chapel and pray?”

“Prayers never hurt,” Rowena said, feeling some of her own tension ease. Mrs Morgan had cared for them all for so long. Over the years, she’d bandaged their scraped knees, and had listened when they needed someone to talk to. But easing Gwendolyn’s pain during childbirth was not something she could fix so easily. “Why don’t you go to the chapel and say a prayer or two until you feel more at ease. I’ll go see if Lottie needs anything. Would that be all right with you?”

The ageing redhead nodded. “So good of you to arrive when you did. Gwendolyn needs you.”

Rowena took two steps and stopped, glancing back at Marcus. “This was not how we planned our return.”

“If we’ve learned anything in the past few days it is to expect the unexpected. You go ahead. I will see Mrs Morgan to the chapel before going to find Tormod.”

Rowena hurried down the long hallway to the laird’s chamber. She knocked on the door and was greeted by Fiona who instantly wrapped her in a ferocious hug.

“You’ve returned!”

“Just in time, I see, to welcome the new babe into our clan.” The birth of a child was always a beautiful thing, but there were dangers as well. “How is Gwendolyn doing? Isn’t she in her eighth month? The baby is early. Will it survive?”

Fiona stepped aside. “Come and see how mother and child fare for yourself.”

As Rowena entered the chamber, she was struck by the sight of Alastair sitting near the bed. He brought a cool cloth up to bathe Gwendolyn’s temple, brushing away with each new contraction the sweat that gathered on her brow. Tears came to Rowena’s eyes. “He really does love her, doesn’t he?”

“Aye.” Fiona’s gaze shifted from Gwendolyn back to Rowena. Fiona’s eyes narrowed for a moment then the faintest smile tugged at her lips. “It seems all of us have been blessed when it comes to matters of the heart.” She brought a hand to rest upon her own and then Rowena’s abdomen. “We are both with child,” she whispered.

“Congratulations, Fiona. I’m so pleased for you and Tormod,” she whispered back to her sister-in-law as she shook her head dazedly. “How could you know that I am . . .? It hasn’t been long enough to be certain.”

“I have been watching Gwendolyn for the last eight months, and my own image in the looking glass for the last two.”

“You could have told me.”

Fiona smiled. “It was Gwendolyn’s time. Our secrets can wait for a while longer.”

Gwendolyn cried out as another contraction overtook her body. Alastair drew his wife’s hand to his lips and pressed a kiss at the centre.

“Come help me with the linens,” Fiona said, letting their secret bind them as they moved to help their sister bring new life into the world.

*

Marcus found Tormod and Graeme outside of the castle, walking backwards in the courtyard. They stopped walking when they saw him and waved him over.