In Bed With A Stranger(86)

“But I need ye, man.”

To serve his king was an honor.

But that meant not returning to Sterling…

Brodick hid his disgruntlement behind the tankard. He’d judged older men harshly because they wanted nothing more than to return home. Look at himself now. Young lads didn’t know what they were missing. He hadn’t until he was forced to leave it behind. Still he was blessed and needed to remember that.

The only thing that vexed him still was the fact that his wife hadn’t told him about their child. Her letter was sweetly written, more than he’d expected salving the wound that was left when he rode away from Sterling.

But it didn’t contain the news that she was carrying. That had come in a second letter written by Helen. He didn’t feel any remorse over commanding the maid to write him in secret. There would be no surprises when he returned home this time. He needed to know that his wife was cared for. Needed to know that she was not wasting away to a sack o’ bones.

Something felt wrong but he couldn’t place it. Just that inkling of a feeling that tingled down a man’s neck when he knew he was being watched.

But for the time being, he would serve his king. It was the McJames’ duty.

England, four months later

“Mother, I’m bored! I will go insane if I am forced to endure much more of this confinement.”

Mary Spencer snorted while she paced in a wide circle. She wrinkled her nose and picked at her sleeve.

“And I detest this wool. It stinks like a sheep. I want my velvet dress back. It has been forever since that Scot took Anne away.”

“It has been only seven months.” Philipa sounded tired. She cast a strained look at her child.

“Seven and a half months. The summer is waning.”

“Still not enough time has passed.”

Mary groaned long and loudly. Philipa rubbed her forehead. She was sick unto death of the demands of men, no longer caring if the church preached that it was her place to shoulder such. Mary huffed and sat in a puddle of wool skirts, her expression unhappy.

“Don’t fret, my lamb. We’ve almost bested this marriage your father negotiated. A few weeks more is all.”

“What if Anne isn’t with child?”

Philipa frowned. “She had better be.”

She had better be.

Philipa felt her temper heat. Oh, she would enjoy letting her wrath fall on Ivy Copper and her litter of bastards. She’d wanted to drown them all the day they were birthed. Anne had better be with child. A son. She didn’t dare risk leaving the girl with the Scots household too long. Servants talked. Even when you whipped them.

Philipa sighed. It was certainly difficult to make it through life’s hurdles. She would just have to endure like her daughter for a few weeks more. She frowned, considering how long Anne had been treated as the mistress of a house. It was possible the bastard might forget her place. Even the threat against her family might lose its sharp edge when she was safe and pampered so far from Warwickshire.

Something would have to be done about that. Something to drive it deep into her heart. Philipa paced, considering her methods.

Yes…something very frightening to a girl.

Sterling, one month later

Surcoats were evil.

Anne snarled as she tripped on the edge of her loose gown. Grabbing two handfuls of the fabric, she lifted it out of the way of her feet. Now that her belly was swelling large, she could not wear her skirts. Without a waistband, the fabric puddled on the ground every time she bent over, even a little bit. It was frustrating because she felt wonderful and didn’t want to be slowed down by the loose garments needed for her ripening figure.

“Get on the other side of the flock, Ginny. Hurry.”

Anne ran the opposite way, flapping her surcoat in the wind to get the geese into the pens. It was time to wash them and remove the thick down that had grown over the winter. Now that it was full summer, the feathers could be thinned. There would be enough time for it to grow back before winter returned.

Anne ran and headed off a large gander. The animal honked at her, flapping his wings.

“Get on with you. I want a down comforter to keep me warm. You will never miss the feathers, I promise.” Raising her hands, she sent the bird back toward the pens on the riverbank. Water made it much easier to remove part of the down.

Her baby kicked. Anne lowered her arms to softly stroke her rounded tummy. She was as ripe as a fall pumpkin, her child pushing her womb out. The bells began to ring. Her heart accelerated as she looked toward Sterling. A cloud of dust was rising on the road and she peered at it, willing her husband to ride out of it.

“Mistress, ye need to get within the castle walls.”

One of the captains was always with her when she left Sterling. Anne looked up to see the man frowning at the approaching riders.