Page 74 of Forever My Lass

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In an explosive move, Iain whirled away from Madeline and strode to the window overlooking the North Sea. One hand pushing aside the drapes, his fingers curled around the window frame. Even as careful as he’d been, he’d failed. He’d failed to keep her safe. Only one other time had he felt this powerless, and that was the night he’d watched the life drain out of Flora. The memory made him grow cold.

He would lose Madeline the same way.

He’d been so careful, and yet he would still lose her. The fact could not have been more visceral if it had not been a sharp sgian dubh slicing through Iain’s gut. He closed his eyes at the fear crawling through him. The one thing he feared even more than water was losing Madeline. He turned around to face her, but his beautiful wife was no longer in the room.

Stunned, he remained motionless as he remembered the wounded look of pain on her face when she’d asked him if he thought she’d done something to deliberately become pregnant. A question he’d not bothered to answer because he’d been reeling from her news. Iain uttered a fierce oath and strode out of the study to find her.

When he stepped out into the hall, Madeline was nowhere to be seen, and he quickly crossed the entryway to look for her in the salon. The empty room only emphasized the fear that was threatening to control his every thought and movement. This is what it would be like when he lost her. It was a realization that became a physical sensation. It gnawed at his insides with a viciousness of a wild animal attacking him.

Iain strode quickly toward the stairs and took the steps two at a time then made his way down the hall. As he quietly opened their bedroom door, Iain saw Madeline sitting on the edge of the bed with her head bent. The defeated slump of her shoulders made his muscles knot with pain.

The door clicked behind him as he closed it, and although he saw her body jerk, she didn’t move. Slowly, he moved forward to kneel at her feet. A shudder rippled through her as he took her hands in his.

“I am an arse, mo ghràdh. Ye are nae tae blame. I am.” His soft apologetic words made her head come up with a jerk. Cheeks wet with tears, she looked pale and drawn. Her appearance made him feel even worse than he had a moment ago.

“Neither one of us is to blame, you, arrogant Scot,” she snapped with outrage as she tugged free of his grasp. “Accidents happen, but that you thought I’d deliberately done something to become pregnant—”

“Nae, I dinnae think that, mo leannan,” Iain said firmly as he caught her hands in his once more.

Madeline tried to free herself from his grip, but he held fast refusing to let go of her. When she turned her head away from him, Iain squeezed her hands tightly in an effort to make her meet his gaze.

“Look at me, Madeline.” When she didn’t move, Iain roughly tugged on her hands. “I said, look at me!”

Slowly, she turned her head toward him, and he flinched beneath the cold, dispassionate look on her beautiful face. He swallowed hard as he stared at her, drinking in the delicate curve of her cheek, the wounded shimmer in her brown eyes, the taut line of her full mouth. How could he make her understand what it would do to him when he lost her?

“The only thought in my head when ye told me about the bairn, was how will I live without ye.” Fear made his voice crack as he met her stunned gaze. “Ye are everything tae me, mo ghràdh, and losing ye will be my undoing.”

Iain bowed his head and buried his face against her hands which had fallen into her lap. A shudder rocked through him as she bent over and kissed the top of his head.

“Oh, Iain, you mustn’t think like that. I’m not Flora. I’m strong, and I’m healthy,” she whispered as she wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “I believe with all my heart that everything will be all right, my darling. Won’t you please try to believe it too?”

The heartfelt plea in Madeline’s voice made Iain raise his head to look at her. As their gazes met, she cupped his face with her hands and leaned forward to kiss him softly. When she pulled back from him, Madeline’s expression pleaded with him to do as she asked. Closing his eyes, Iain dragged in a deep breath before meeting her gaze again. With a nod, he silently agreed to her request. He could only pray she was right.

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October 29, 1897

A loud wail filled the air as the next Baron Glenburnie tested the power of his small lungs. Relief barreled through Iain as he watched Madeline heave a sigh then fall back into her pillows with a smile. Her hand clasped tightly in his, he leaned over her and kissed her brow.

“Are ye all right, mo ghràdh?” Iain’s gaze searched her features for any sign of pain or discomfort but saw nothing. She looked up at him with a radiant smile.

“I’m exhausted, but it was easier than swimming in the North Sea during a storm.”

The reference to their battles with the sea made him smile as he kissed her gently. As he straightened, the midwife moved toward the bed and placed their son in Madeline’s arms. Sitting in a chair beside their bed, Iain leaned forward to stroke the child’s cheek with his finger.

“Thank ye, mo ghràdh.” His soft words made her look at Iain in surprise.

“For what?”

“Ye have tolerated an ill-tempered Scotsman for the past seven months,” he muttered as his mouth tightened in a grimace of self-disgust. “And now ye have given me a son who is as bonnie as his mother.”

“Ill-tempered?” Madeline arched her eyebrows at him with a look that said he’d been more than irritable, especially in recent weeks. “Don’t you mean unreasonable, grumpy, and in general, a horse’s ass?”

“Aye, all of those.” He jerked his head in agreement, and with a small smile, Madeline reached out to touch his cheek.

“Every time you snapped at someone, I knew it was because you were worried you would lose me.” Brown eyes luminous with love and understanding, a small tremor vibrated through her fingers to his cheek. “And I’ve never felt more loved in my entire life.”