Artair shook his head. “I will need to—” He stopped and stared at her wide-eyed. “Are you with child?”
She grinned. “I’m not sure yet, but there is a strong possibility.”
He scooped her up and swung her around. “I didn’t think I could be any happier than I was, but this is beyond happiness. This is sheer bliss.”
After he put her down, she said, “We mustn’t tell anyone yet. I’m not certain, and besides, it would not be good for the bishop to hear.”
“Agreed, but you will let me know—”
“As soon as I know for sure,” she said.
“We will have a good life together, Zia. I promise,” he said, knowing he would do anything to keep her safe.
“Zia!”
They turned to see Cavan approach.
“The pains have started again.”
Zia nodded, gave Artair’s cheek a quick kiss and hurried off.
“I would die to see her safe,” Artair said, his glance fixed on where Zia had disappeared through the open door.
“I understand,” Cavan said. “I would do the same for Honora.”
“Then perhaps we should leave this situation to Lachlan’s discretion,” Artair joked.
“If only the bishop were a woman.”
Both men laughed, but stopped when they heard the horn that heralded the bishop’s approach.
“Are you ready?” Cavan asked with a firm hand on his brother’s shoulder.
“I will always be ready to defend my wife,” Artair said, and both brothers went to greet the man who would decide Zia’s fate.
A warrior was waiting in the great hall when Artair and Cavan entered.
“A group from the village Black follows a few hours behind the bishop’s caravan,” he informed the brothers.
“This could present a problem,” Cavan said after sending the warrior to the kitchen for food and drink. “Supposedly, you were married in the village Black. It would be odd if those from the village knew nothing about it.”
“Zia had sent word to her grandmother about our ruse. Bethane is an intelligent woman. I would have to believe that she made it known to the village,” Artair said. “But I can send Patrick to intercept them and make certain of it, since he knew of the ruse.”
Cavan shook his head. “How so many knew and yet kept the secret.”
“Bethane is widely respected, especially by those she harbors.”
“Do you think she comes as well?”
“I believe so. She would know when Zia needed her,” Artair said, somehow knowing himself that Bethane was close.
“Then perhaps she will provide us with more information about Ronan.”
Artair smiled. “Bethane is a wise woman. She will learn more about you than you will of her.”
“You admire this woman,” Cavan said.
“You will too, but first we must deal with the bishop.”
Addie entered the hall from the kitchen, directing servants with platters of food and pitchers of drink.
“All will be ready for the bishop’s arrival,” she said to Cavan.
“Honora?” he asked.
“Is in good hands. Do not worry. Besides, Zia said her grandmother is close and will be here to help with the birth.”
The brothers looked at each other, and Artair’s grin said I told you so.
Addie hurried off to finish with the servants.
“I just realized,” Artair said. “We planned on telling the bishop that we sent for the marriage documents left behind, where the ceremony took place.”
Cavan shook his head. “The village Black, and with Bethane’s arrival—”
“The story is no longer viable. Unless…” Artair nodded slowly. “Unless Bethane forgot the papers and realized shortly after beginning their journey and sent someone back for them, which means he should arrive within a day or two, giving us just enough time.”
“I suggest as soon as we greet the bishop, you ride out and accompany Bethane’s entourage to the keep. As far as we know, the marriage papers are on the way, though we will not discuss them unless asked.”
“Agreed,” Artair said.
A messenger entered the hall and informed the brothers that the bishop’s coach had entered the village.
Cavan and Artair went outside to greet the man who could bring disfavor down on the clan by claiming Zia a witch.
Bishop Edmond Aleatus wore a dour expression as he alighted from the coach, and his sharp green eyes appeared to miss nothing. His regal attire bespoke his station, his handsomely stitched green and gold garments crafted perfectly for his tall slim frame.
Artair watched his brother greet the bishop with the dignity expected, but Cavan also greeted him with the confidence of a mighty warrior. His brother would not bow down to this man, though he would show respect for his position.