Bethane patted his arm. “I know, which is why it soothes my heart to know that you would lie to protect my granddaughter.”
“I fear I need to ask the same of you and your people, and advise that you may be placing yourselves in danger by your visit.”
“Tell me,” Bethane said softly.
Artair detailed the entire situation.
“And this bishop’s name?” Bethane asked when he was through explaining.
“Bishop Edmond Aleatus.”
She nodded and raised her hand signaling the group to stop for a rest. She took Artair’s arm and walked with him to sit beneath a tree, the fallen autumn leaves providing them with a cushion.
“I believe once the bishop meets with Zia, he will see that she is no more than a good woman and good healer.”
“I have hope,” Artair admitted with a sigh.
“Keep hope strong. It is the best you can do for Zia. Besides, your plan is sound and I am sure it will work.” She smiled. “I am glad I will be here when you exchange vows with my granddaughter.”
“Zia will be too. She misses you.”
“And I her, but you two will visit me often, as I will you. After all, I will want to see my great-granddaughter and all the grandchildren to follow.”
Artair stared at her dumbstruck. “Zia is not sure she is—”
“She is,” Bethane said, nodding. “And Zia will give you a daughter first. All women born of our line have daughters first.”
“Every one of them?”
“It is so as far back as our lineage goes,” Bethane confirmed.
The thought struck Artair like a blot of lightning. “She will—” He stopped and grinned. “My daughter will be a healer like her mother and all those before her.”
Bethane nodded, her smile growing.
“I will keep them both safe,” he said adamantly.
“As they will you. As for this bishop,” she said, “I think it would be best for me and the others from our village to keep our distance from him, for a while at least.”
“It might be best until we see how things go, or perhaps until after Zia and I wed.”
Bethane nodded, agreeing, and then the nod slowly turned to a shake. “Zia tends a troubled birth?”
Artair might have thought the woman a witch if he believed in witches. But he understood that Bethane had a special connection with Zia, and sensed when her granddaughter needed help, needed her.
Artair explained about Honora.
“Twins, how wonderful,” Bethane said joyously. “But Zia will need help.” She sprang to her feet far more easily than one would expect, and laughed when Artair stood and his knee cracked loudly. “I have something that will help that aging knee.”
They both laughed.
“Where is Nessie?” Artair finally asked, not having caught sight of her.
“She refused to the leave the village.”
“I believe she has chosen a new home and if it makes her happy then that’s where she should stay,” Artair said.
“It is a wise man who gives a woman what she wants,” Bethane replied with a grin.
Dusk covered the land by the time they reached the keep. Bethane went with Mave to see how James was doing and help settle the young woman in his cottage, while Artair saw to it that the rest of the group had places to stay. Once he finished, he went to James’s cottage to escort Bethane to the keep.
“She’s already gone to the keep,” Mave said. “She knew Zia needed her.”
Artair didn’t linger. He immediately set out, hoping Bethane had been able to avoid the bishop. He was relieved to discover that the bishop had retired to his room with a request not to be disturbed for the remainder of the evening.
Artair hurried to see Zia and cringed when he heard the moans drifting down the hall on his approach to the room.
He knocked and Addie let him in.
“Don’t be long,” his mother warned. “We have our hands full.”
Artair almost ran to Zia and scooped her up into his arms. She looked utterly exhausted though alert. Her sleeves were rolled up and a white bib apron covered the front of her. Her hands were sparkling clean but then he had noticed that she washed them often when treating the ill.
If he thought Zia looked exhausted, he turned pale when he saw Honora.
“Now you know why Cavan can no longer enter this room,” Zia said, standing alongside him.
A forceful tug at his arm had him turning away and looking at Zia. “She is—”
“Doing her best and needs no audience.” Zia escorted him out of the room and into the hall. “I have only a few minutes.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
“Keep Cavan away, though let him know that all is well, and don’t tell me anything of the bishop until the delivery is over.”