Page 51 of The Highlander's Runaway Nun
“It’s possible ye may have a bairn to guard as well as me. Would ye like that?”
Cora returned not long after, the door creaking open as the scent of fresh bread and honey drifted into the chamber. She carried a tray with tea, porridge sweetened with cream, and a plate of fruit that gleamed in the morning light.
“Up ye get, lass,” Cora said cheerfully, setting the tray on the small table by the bed. “Ye’ll need yer strength now, aye? Eat somethin’, and when ye’re done, we’ll go see Eidith.”
Laura blinked sleepily, her cheeks still pale from the morning’s sickness. “Eidith? The healer woman?” she asked, her voice soft. “Cora, is that truly necessary? She’s a somewhat strange one, is she nae?”
“Aye, me Lady, ‘tis necessary,” Cora replied, wagging a finger. “There’s nay harm in makin’ sure. If ye are carryin’ a bairn, Eidith will ken for certain. She’s got the gift, that one.”
Laura hesitated but nodded, picking up her spoon. The porridge soothed her empty stomach, and the hot tea calmed the lingering nausea. As she ate, Cora fussed around the room, folding a shawl here and straightening a pillow there. When Laura finished, she rose, dressing in a simple wool gown of soft blue and wrapping a cloak about her shoulders.
“Come now,” Cora said, tying her own shawl tightly. “The morn’s fair bright. We’ll be back before the Laird’s even done with his duties.”
They made their way out of the castle, crossing the courtyard as a chill wind tugged at their cloaks. Beyond the gates, a narrow path led down toward a cluster of small cottages nestled near the water’s edge. Smoke rose from one chimney, curling lazily into the pale sky.
“That’s Eidith’s place,” Cora said with a nod.
Laura’s nerves fluttered as they approached the little stone cottage. The door creaked open before they could knock, and theold woman with wild silver hair and eyes sharp as glass peered out.
“Cora, ye’ve brought me trouble, I can see it,” she said with a grin that showed more gaps than teeth. “And what’s this bonnie lass doing tremblin’ on me doorstep? It’s Lady McCormack, aye?”
Cora chuckled. “Nay trouble, Eidith, only a bit of news, mayhap. The Lady here’s been feelin’ unwell.”
Eidith’s gaze swept over Laura with a knowing air. “Unwell, is it? Come in, child, come in. Let me have a look at ye before I start guessin’ what the good Lord’s got planned.”
The cottage smelled of herbs and peat smoke, warm and cluttered with dried bundles hanging from the beams. Laura sat on a small stool as Eidith shuffled closer, her gnarled hands surprisingly gentle as she pressed a palm to Laura’s forehead, then to her belly.
She hummed a soft tune as she closed her eyes. Finally, she opened her eyes.
“Tell me,” Eidith said softly, “when last did ye bleed, lass?”
Laura blushed, glancing nervously at Cora. “I daenae remember,” she admitted. “It’s been some time now.”
Eidith nodded, humming thoughtfully. “Aye, I thought as much. Lie back a bit, love.” She pressed lightly against Laura’s stomachagain, her brow furrowing in concentration. Then she took Laura’s hand, turned it palm-up, and inspected the faint blue veins beneath the skin. Finally, she asked, “Push out yer tongue. Let’s see it, then.”
Laura opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue.
“Aha,” Eidith muttered, a smile twitching at her lips. “There it is.”
Laura sat upright, anxious. “There what is?”
Eidith chuckled, her eyes twinkling. “The spark of new life, lass. There’s a bairn growin’ inside ye, sure as the dawn rises.”
Laura gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “Truly?” she whispered. “Ye’re certain?”
“As certain as I am that the sun will set this night,” Eidith said, patting her arm kindly. “Ye’re with child, lass. The signs are plain as day—the warmth in yer pulse, the sickness in yer belly, and the glow startin’ to rise in yer cheeks.”
Laura felt tears prick at the corners of her eyes. “A bairn,” she breathed. “Bradley’s bairn.”
Cora beamed beside her. “I told ye so, me Lady!” she said proudly. “The clan will be overjoyed.”
Eidith chuckled. “Aye, and the Laird most of all, I’d wager. But ye must rest now, Lady McCormack. Keep yer heart steady and yer body strong. Ye’re carryin’ the future of this clan.” She reached for a small bundle of dried herbs and pressed it into Laura’s hands. “Steep these in hot water each morn. They’ll calm yer stomach and give the bairn strength.”
Laura clutched the herbs to her chest, gratitude washing over her. “Thank ye, Eidith,” she said earnestly. “Ye’ve been so kind.”
The old woman waved a wrinkled hand. “Bah, nonsense. Kindness costs naught, lass. Go now and tell the Laird his heir grows well. And tell him Eidith expects a fine cradle to be built before summer.”
Cora laughed, and Laura joined her softly. As they left the cottage, the morning sun broke through the clouds. The path back to the castle seemed somehow brighter than before.
