The Highlander's Lost Lady (The Lairds Most Likely 3)

“Fergus, dinna shout at Sandra,” he said in a calming voice, stepping up and taking his friend’s arm to stop him barging into the room. “You ken that men have nae place in the birthing chamber.”

“Ye dinna understand.” Fergus turned a despairing face on him, and Diarmid’s stomach clenched with agonizing pity when he saw tears glittering in his friend’s eyes. “I have to be with her.”

Another scream from inside, then a silence descended. Diarmid’s grip on Fergus’s arm tightened.

That silence couldn’t mean Marina had lost the fight. It just couldn’t be true. By all that was holy, it couldn’t.

“Fergus…”

The silence went on and on. Diarmid’s blood turned to ice.

Finally and unmistakably through the closed door came the sound of a baby crying.

“What the devil…” Fergus choked out and broke free of Diarmid. Pushing Sandra out of the way, he shoved the door open and stood on the threshold. Behind him, Diarmid peered into the room.

Marina leaned against the pillows and reached out to take a remarkably red and noisy scrap of humanity from Fiona’s arms. Marina’s face was drawn and pale, and glowing with a pleasure that made mockery of all the pain that had gone before.

Jenny stood beside the bed, looking every one of her seventy-odd years, but he couldn’t doubt her joy either. Fiona glanced up as she passed the baby to Marina, and the smile she gave Diarmid sliced a hole in his brimming heart.

“Marina?” Fergus asked, his voice thick with emotion. He took an unsteady step into the room. “Mo leannan?”

“Caro…” she began, as her arms closed around the baby.

Jenny stalked across to him, speaking over whatever Marina meant to say. “Ye shouldnae be here, Mackinnon. Let me get your lady all clean and tidied up, and the wee bairn as well. Then ye can greet both of them properly.”

“To hell with that.” Fergus strode forward past Jenny. “Are ye all right, mo chridhe?”

“Mackinnon…”Diarmid could hear that the laird’s presence offended every scrap of Jenny’s sense of decorum.

Marina’s tired smile for her husband was so laden with love that Diarmid looked away, uncomfortable to intrude on this private moment. “Come and meet our daughter, then you’d better go before this dragon turns you to ash, tesoro.”

Astonishment and gratification filled Fergus’s face as he approached the bed, hesitant as Diarmid had never seen him hesitant. “Och, our daughter?”

“Sì, nostra figlia, amore mio.”

Diarmid watched Fergus reach out to touch the baby’s cheek, then he turned and left the room. Fergus didn’t need him anymore, and at this time, he had no place in his friend’s communion with his family.

He shut the door behind him and stopped on the landing to catch his breath. A wide smile curved his lips. Hurrah for Fergus. Hurrah for Marina. He couldn’t be happier for them. And hurrah for the bonny wee lassie, too, whatever her name was going to be. She’d had a big night of it as well.

Behind him, the door opened, and he turned to see Fiona carrying a pile of dirty towels. “Diarmid…”

She looked tired. She looked elated. She looked heartbreakingly beautiful.

He frowned. “What the devil are ye wearing, lassie?”

She glanced down at her loose linen blouse and red and black plaid skirt, caught at the waist with a black leather girdle laced in front. Her lovely hair was plaited away from her face in a simple style. “I couldn’t stay in my nightdress when I had to run up and down stairs all night. Kirsty, one of the maids, is about my size, so she lent me this.”

A tired laugh escaped him. The world had been a cold and empty place before he’d heard that baby’s cry. Now it seemed full of warmth and promise. “Ye look like a shepherdess in a folk tale.”

With a weary gesture, she brushed stray tendrils of hair back from her forehead. “If I do, I’m a shepherdess in need of a good wash.”

He frowned at the laundry in her arms. “Ye dinna have to rush around like a servant.”

She shrugged. “The lassies have been up all night, too. Jenny told them to go to bed a couple of hours ago, but they’re sitting down in the kitchen to hear the news. I’m off to tell them, so I may as well take something with me when I go.”

Jenny appeared in the doorway behind her. “Fiona, come back as soon as you’ve told them downstairs that all is bonny. We havenae finished here yet.”

“Jenny, she’s been up all night…” Diarmid said.