Giving Ewan a final kiss, she set him on the floor. “I’ll leave you to talk with Mr. McLean in peace. I’ve got a field to plant.”
Mary set down the baby next to Ewan. “I’m glad we talked.”
“Me too,” Gemma answered. “Good luck, Mary McLaren.”
Mary leaned over. “Don’t let his lord go. That’s the sort of man ye keep.”
Gemma didn’t answer as she looked down at the floor. She’d like to do just that, grab him with both hands and never let go. But she loved him so much, she couldn’t take children of his own away from him. Not if he wanted them.
* * *
Will watched Gemma walk out of the house. She looked…beautiful. She always looked like that to be fair. It was more that her head was high, her body relaxed.
She approached him and Fiona with a determined stride that made him toss the seed in his hand back into the basket. “How’d it go?”
“Good,” she answered, her mouth set in a straight line. “But there is something I need to say to you.” Then she took his hand and led him several feet away.
“What is it?” he asked.
She took a deep breath. “Sean and I were married for a year before he left.”
He cocked his head to one side. “All right.”
“In all that time I never missed a bleed. Not once.” Her hands fisted at her side. “I thought it might be Sean but then he came here and Mary had two babies.”
Will scratched his head. He was trying to understand. “So yer worried that ye might not be able to have children?”
She let out a huff of breath but a niggle of excitement bloomed in her chest. Her pulse began to race. “Yes I’m worried that I might not be able to have children.” Her hands came to her hips. “You’re telling me that you’d be fine if I never gave you a son?”
He scrunched his brows together. “Is this the reason you don’t want to marry me?”
“Of course it is! Are you daft?” Her breath came out in short gasps. She wanted to shake him, but she also wanted to hold him close. “Ye’re a laird. What’s more, you’re ridiculously competitive with your brothers. How are you going to feel when they have six children each and we have none of our own?”
He laughed then, which only seemed to make her stand up straighter, but he couldn’t help it. “Ye really have gotten to ken me lass, I am competitive to a fault with my brothers. But on the subject of children, I’m afraid yer wrong. I don’t care if ye have a baby or not. We’ve already got two children if ye haven’t noticed. And, when we’ve got more money, we can adopt more if ye want. Sinclairs help people. It’s our oath.” He reached out and took her hand. “I can’t think of a better way tae do it then to give children in need a good home to grow up in.”
Gemma stared at him her mouth opening and closing. “Do ye really mean that?”
Chapter Eighteen
Will stood holding her hand, but he wanted to make love to her right then and there. She’d been saying no to him because she was afraid that she didn’t bring enough to the marriage.
“Gemma, I mean every word, lass.” He reached for her other hand. “Now, I’m going to ask ye one more time and then—” But he couldn’t finish. There was a thump behind him and a cry. Twisting his head about, he looked over to see Fiona frantically attempting to pick up the basket of seed that she’d knocked down. “Bloody bullocks,” he yelled.
Fiona started, looking up at him with wide eyes as the color drained from her face. “I did not mean to. I was trying to move it closer,” she whispered.
Will let go of Gemma’s hands and ran his fingers through his hair. “Inside, Fiona. This is no place fer ye.” He pointed to the house. “I can’t have ye slowing us down today. This crop is too important.”
Fiona nodded, her eyes welling with tears as she stood and began walking away.
Gemma stepped next to him. “You’ll help next time sweetheart, when we’re not in such a rush.”
Fiona didn’t answer and Will let out a long sigh. He shouldn’t have been so hard on her but he’d lost too much time already and now he was going to have to salvage the seed. “Help me pick this up,” he said to Gemma. “Then we’ll get started.”
“Fiona is upset,” Gemma crossed her arms over her chest.
“I ken,” he answered. “I’ll apologize later.” He moved the basket, straightening it and scooping handfuls of seed from the dirt.
She bent down next to him, doing the same. Once they’d cleaned up the mess, they began the arduous process of raking the dirt back into its mounds and seeding again.