Ronan turned and joined Cavan where he sat alone at the end of the table.
“Ronan loves his uncle Ronan,” Cavan said with a smile.
“What’s not to love?” Ronan teased.
Cavan shook his head and laughed.
“I thought one day there would be children to carry on our name.” Ronan shook his head. “But I can’t believe that day is already here.”
“I look at my sons and think the same,” Cavan said.
“As I do,” Lachlan said, joining them near the hearth.
“Sons?” Artair asked as he approached. “Wait until you have a daughter, then you will know what it is to worry, especially when you recall your own wicked ways.”
Lachlan slapped Artair on the back. “Look on the bright side. Blythe has three male Sinclare cousins to protect her innocence.”
“Knowing her mother’s spirited nature, do you think that consoles me?” Artair asked with a grin.
“It will have to do for now,” Cavan said.
“Truly?” Artair asked. “I wonder if you will feel the same if it is a daughter you have next.”
Cavan cringed, then swore then said, “Daughters obey their fathers.”
His remark was like a punch to Ronan’s gut. Had Carissa obeyed her father whether she liked it or not?
“Will you consider that when you pass judgment on Carissa?” Ronan asked.
“I will consider it all, including how I screamed, then passed out when she threw water on my open wounds after I had been whipped mercilessly,” Cavan said. “And I certainly will remember how she laughed and told me to embrace the darkness.”
“Wise advice,” Zia said, walking over to the table, her daughter reaching her tiny hands out to her father and Artair taking her with a smile and snuggle.
“What do you mean?” Cavan snapped.
“If Carissa told you to embrace the darkness, then she knew you would pass out from her action. It is how you felt when you woke,” Zia said, “that matters the most.”
Cavan looked perplexed.
“How did you feel?” Zia asked. “Were you in pain? Or was your suffering bearable?”
Cavan looked ready to answer, then held his tongue, and his brow crinkled in thought. “I was on my stomach when I woke and someone, a soft, caring voice, ordered me to remain that way. And the pain—” He paused and shook his head. “The pain was minimal.”
“Hope,” Ronan whispered, though not quietly enough.
“Hope?” Cavan reiterated. “Of course I kept hope strong.”
Ronan shook his head. “No. Hope helped you as she helped me.”
“You’re suggesting Carissa helped me?” Cavan asked irritably.
“If you weren’t so stubborn, you might see that it is a strong possibility,” Honora said, returning with one of the twins, who looked as if he wore his food rather than ate it.
“Your namesake is a fussy eater,” Cavan said, ignoring his wife’s accusation.
Ronan leaned down and playfully pinched the lad’s cheek. “I know someone whose food you’d enjoy.”
Honora smiled. “I had one of Carissa’s apple buns. It was delicious.”
“She made apple buns?” Ronan asked. “I need to get some.”
“Carissa won’t be joining us for supper,” Cavan informed him. “She isn’t feeling well.”
Ronan turned on him with a sting of anger. “You just inform me of this now?”
“I only learned of it a short time ago,” Cavan said.
“And you didn’t think to inform me?” Ronan asked annoyed. “Especially knowing she could be with child?”
Zia was already walking to the door. “I’ll see if she’s all right.”
Ronan joined her.
The others stared at Cavan.
“I am laird,” Cavan said.
Honora huffed. “Then act like one.”
Carissa had just taken the cauldron from the hearth to cool. She was looking forward to the rabbit stew that had simmered for hours. The scent was delicious, and her mouth watered for the first bite.
She had managed to calm her thoughts and intended to enjoy a tasty supper and retire early and hopefully meet with Dykar at sunrise to see if Septimus had unearthed anything new about Cregan.
Therefore, her door bursting open was completely unexpected and startling to say the least.
Ronan was at her side when he asked, “Are you all right?”
“I’m fine,” she said.
“Are you sure?” Zia asked, having hurried in behind Ronan.
Carissa nodded, still startled by their appearance.
“We were informed you were ill,” Ronan said.
“More tired than anything,” Carissa said, which was the truth. She was simply fatigued by her whole ordeal.