“Make that three or four,” Lachlan called from the doorway. “Are you feeling better, dear sister?”
Honora waved to him from the bed. “Much better, thank you. Now take this husband of mine off to drink with you while I tend to woman’s work.”
“You heard her,” Lachlan said, waving at Cavan.
Cavan didn’t budge. He looked to his wife. “Are you sure—”
“Go,” Honora said, shooing him away. “Your mother is here, and Zia will be here shortly.”
Cavan left reluctantly and with a promise to return soon to see how she was feeling.
Artair hoped they wouldn’t pass Zia on the way to the hall, but they had no such luck. They met her on the way down as she was on her way up.
“My wife?” Cavan asked anxiously.
“Is fine,” Zia said, and Artair knew she answered honestly. He only hoped that Cavan would not ask about the babe, and was relieved when his brother simply nodded and moved on. Her answer was enough for now, though Artair didn’t think it would suffice for long.
He lingered behind his brothers, wanting a moment with Zia, if only briefly. Reaching out, he brushed his fingers along her arm. She couldn’t respond in kind, since she had a steaming cup of brew in her hands, but he felt her response. It was a sensual shiver that rippled through her body and along his.
“Later,” he whispered with urgency, and with a wide smile she nodded vigorously.
He followed his brothers down the stairs, wishing he and Zia were going up the stairs to their bedchamber. Shaking the thought from his head, he kept a quick pace behind them.
Zia entered Honora’s bedchamber with her mind far from where it should be. Artair had been in her thoughts far too often. And she found that she wanted to be with him far more often than she’d ever imagined possible. She sighed, knowing she had no time for such thoughts. But later she would…
She smiled as she approached the bed in which Honora lay.
“Tell me,” Honora demanded sharply, and caused Addie to jump out of her chair.
Zia took charge, handing the brew to Honora. “Drink slowly and we’ll talk.”
Honora followed her directions, Addie slipping back into her chair, waiting.
The two women were like family to her. She couldn’t say when that had happened. Perhaps from the start she’d felt close to them because of Artair. Whatever the reason, she wanted to alleviate their fears while alerting Honora to potential problems.
“You need to rest,” she said.
“Why?” Honora asked fearfully.
From experience, Zia knew that many women blamed themselves when something went wrong with their babe, so she answered carefully. “The easiest way for me to explain it is that the babe is restless.”
Honora grew upset.
“It has nothing to do with you,” Zia assured. “It is the babe who is making his wants and needs known.”
“What do I do?” Honora asked anxiously.
“You rest and listen to what the babe has to say.”
“How?” Honora asked, near tears.
Zia reached out and took hold of her hand. “You already know. You knew as soon as the babe pained you that it was time to rest. Don’t be stubborn. Listen to your babe and he will be born without a problem.”
Addie shared her own experience. “Like father like son. Cavan kept me off my feet for several weeks before his birth.”
“Really?” Honora asked with relief.
“And look at him now,” Addie boasted with pride.
The three women laughed while Honora sipped the brew.
“Tell me what to do and I will do it,” Honora said. “And then I will share the news with Cavan. I would not want him to keep a secret from me, and I will not keep one from him.” She placed her hand on her rounded stomach. “He is our babe, and we must face any problem together.”
Zia settled Honora to rest and promised she would send Cavan to her right away. Addie left with her, and as soon as they were out the door, took hold of her arm and moved her aside.
“Honora will be all right?” she asked in a low voice.
Zia nodded. “With rest and attention to the babe’s demands, I believe all will go well.”
“But you’re worried,” Addie said. “I can feel it.”
“I always worry when a babe makes demands before he arrives, but we are aware of his demands and will keep a watch on him and Honora.”
They continued to walk and Addie continued to question, though not about the babe.
“How are you and Artair?”
“We do well,” Zia said, and realized it was true. They were doing better than she had imagined they would, or was it better in spite of what she’d imagined?