“I know we don’t know each other well, but my grandmother speaks so highly of you that I am pleased finally to have the chance to get to know you myself.”
“Your grandmother is a remarkable woman,” Carissa said. “She helps so many.”
“From what she’s told me, you do the same.”
“I look after my warriors—”
“More than just your warriors” Zia said.
Carissa felt uneasy with compliments. She did what she did because it was the right thing to do. She needed no praise for it.
“Can I offer you a hot brew?” Carissa asked, wanting to change the course of the conversation.
Zia popped up off the chair. “I’ll get it. You rest.” She talked while she worked. “It seems that everyone is wondering about you.”
“What you mean is that gossip has begun to spread, and tongues are wagging wildly,” Carissa said. “I have no doubt villagers are already aware of why judgment against me has been delayed and that most, if not all, believe I tricked him to couple with me.”
Zia nodded as she handed a mug to Carissa.
“With barely a day since my arrival, I can’t imagine what further time here will bring for me,” Carissa said.
“I find that time can be a friend rather than an enemy, which is another reason I stopped to visit. Can you tell me how long it will be before you know if you are with child?”
“About two weeks,” Carissa answered.
“You are feeling well?” Zia asked.
Their conversation continued about birthing and babes, and Zia regaled her with stories of the Sinclare deliveries and babes and how Carissa would meet the little darlings later at supper. And then she left.
When the door closed, Carissa’s hand went to her stomach. She hadn’t given much thought to being with child. Perhaps it was because she had thought it only a distant dream that would never come true. But now there was a possibility that it might.
She didn’t know what she would do if she was carrying Ronan’s child. However, she did know that it would present problems, one being that Cavan would not pass judgment on her.
The thought disturbed her, for then she would never be free. And the Sinclares would be forced to accept her.
She shook her head. She didn’t want to be forced on anyone, least of all Ronan.
The solution to her dilemma came easily. If she was with child, she would not let anyone know. Then she realized it could possibly cause her another problem. Cavan just might punish her, and that could harm the babe. And what of Ronan? Didn’t he have a right to know that he would be a father?
She stood and paced before the hearth.
It would be so much easier if she wasn’t with child, yet she had so wanted children. And she would probably long for one of her own even more after meeting the Sinclare babes tonight.
She shook her head. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t participate in a family meal with the Sinclares and watch the love and happiness they all shared and know they had yet to accept her.
She didn’t wait for Ronan to come collect her for supper. She notified the guard that she wasn’t feeling well and wouldn’t be taking supper with the Sinclares. He looked ready to remind her that Cavan had ordered her to the meal, so she gave him two apple buns and hot cider, spiced with her own flavorings.
A short time later he knocked on the door and told her he would deliver her message and that he hoped she was feeling better, and by any chance did she have another apple bun to spare?
Chapter 30
Ronan got finished tumbling on the floor with his twin nephews and stood, brushing the rushes off the little lads, then himself. Blythe had clapped with glee, and Roark had kept steady eyes on them all.
He couldn’t believe his family had grown so much and in ways he had never imagined but loved nonetheless. He had never given much thought to children, his brothers and he too busy enjoying the pleasures of being young and free. But his ordeal had made him view life much differently.
He had never realized how very important his family was to him. And though he had worried that he would feel estranged from them, they had not changed. It was he who had changed, or at least thought he had. And while he might look at some things differently, he was who he always was—a Sinclare.
“More!”
Ronan laughed at his namesake, who stretched out his tiny arms to him. “Time to eat.” He snatched the little fellow up in his arms and pretended to chomp at his cheeks. The lad laughed with glee until his mother, Honora, took him, which then had him crying in disappointment.
Ronan grabbed the lad’s chin. “We’ll play again, but first you must eat.”
The lad seemed appeased and went with his mother.