Page 155 of Laird of Flint
Packing all they needed for the journey didn’t take long. It was only a few miles to Dunlop. Still, it would be rough traveling, more than an hour over rocky ground and through dense woods. And Carenza would require frequent breaks.
They did leave behind Sister Eve’s gown. Carenza wanted it to be there for her, if and when she turned up at the byre.
She said farewell to the hens. She figured they’d live like queens even without their human masters. After all, they had plenty of grain and the entire cozy byre to themselves.
Then she pulled her arisaid over her head, picked up her satchel, and slipped out into the feathery white.
“Hold on,” Hew said.
He took her satchel and slung it across his back with his own. Then, before she could squeak in surprise, he swept her up suddenly into his arms.
“What kind of Viking’s son would I be,” he said, “if I couldn’t carry off a wench?”
His ancestors would have been impressed. He carried herandtheir bairn all the way to Dunlop.
They passed through the gates of Dunlop and crossed the snowy courtyard without incident. When Hew carried her through the doors of the great hall to set her on her feet near the hearth, a sudden hush fell over the clanfolk.
“Carenza?” Her father looked stunned.
She’d been thinking about this moment all the way from the time they left the byre. She’d decided if they were going to do this, if they were going to march up to the gates of Dunlop and drop their fate in her father’s hands, she would make it her mission to defend Hew with her life and the life of her unborn child.
“Father.” She straightened and faced him squarely. “I have somethin’ to tell ye.”
“Ye’re goin’ to have a bairn,” he realized.
“That’s right,” she said. “But I’ll have ye know, if ye’re not willin’ to forgive Hew, if ye plan to turn him o’er to the king, I’ll make certain ye ne’er see your grandchild.”
“But—”
“I’ll go into exile,” she bit out. “And ye won’t have an heir.”
“But—”
“I know ’tis a harsh decision. But considerin’ all Hew has sacrificed in the name o’ love, ’tis therightdecision. So what will it be?”
She braced herself for a challenge.
It never came.
Instead, her father looked at Hew. “’Twas ye all along, wasn’t it? Her lover. Her caretaker. Her hero. I knew it.” He came forward with watery eyes and a father’s proud smile.
Against all odds, it turned out what Sister Eve had told them was true. All of it. Merraid the maidservanthadwritten the verses. And fought at Gellir’s back. And been knighted by the king. And brokered peace between the lairds. She was now married to Gellir and expecting a bairn.
Eve was even right about the king and the laird of Rivenloch forgiving Hew and Carenza for their reckless behavior, though they still needed the sealed marriage document to make their union official.
First, however, Carenza meant to write a missive to Merraid, apologizing for her hasty departure. Congratulating her on her marriage and her upcoming delivery. Commending her on her clever and passionate verse. And announcing her own marriage to the heretofore unnamed father of her bairn, Sir Hew du Lac of Rivenloch himself. Their marriages would make Carenza and Merraid cousins.
She smiled, imagining the stir her missive was sure to cause.
Carenza woke early on Martinmas morn. Not because she needed extra time to dress, which she did lately, since she’d grown to roughly the size of Hamish.
Nay, she didn’t think she’d be going to Mass today.
What urged her awake was a twinge deep in her abdomen, the kind she got when her menses were beginning.
It was time.
The cramp subsided, and she levered herself out of bed.
