The Bard (Highland Heroes #5) - Maeve Greyson Page 0,100

the weather isna fierce enough to kill a man, he prefers the sanctuary of the Highland wilderness. Ye might say he’s somewhat a priest of the woods.” He nodded at her barely touched plate. “Eat more, m’lady. Ye have much to do in the coming weeks. Healing. Getting with our first of many bairns. Helping Jenny plan a wedding. Ye canna do any of that if ye dinna eat and build yer strength.”

“Aye, daughter. Listen to yer husband.” Her father rose, patted his stomach, and belched. “I’ll give the two of ye yer privacy now. Today is the first time in a verra long while where I fully intend to enjoy my walk along the river. For once, I have nothing on my mind other than my blessings.”

A hard-won sense of contentment warmed her as much as the balmy day as she watched him saunter away. Da spoke the truth. Today was surely a day for counting one’s blessings. She pulled in a deep breath and released it with a happy sigh, surprised when she discovered it hadn’t been too unbearably painful. Apparently, the fresh air and sunshine had done her a world of good. Of course, it could also be because she had shed those infernal bandages Aderyn had cinched around her so tightly she could hardly draw in a tenth of the air she needed.

Adopting a concerned look, she took Sutherland’s hand and held it to her chest. “I am deeply troubled about something, mo ghràdh, deeply troubled indeed.”

Her beloved husband immediately became the most protective of warriors. “What is it, my love? What troubles ye?” He leaned close, giving her his full attention.

“Well…” She bowed her head but glanced up at him through her lowered lashes. “Jenny says it is most dangerous for a man’s health when he holds his seed too long. I fear for ye, my dear one. Has it not been…days?”

Immediate understanding relaxed him from his defensive stance. “It has been days, mo chridhe, and will be many more. It takes ribs a while to heal. I will do nothing to hurt ye.”

She gulped in a lungful of air, then expelled it without the slightest flinching. “It appears, my beloved husband, that the bindings were causing me the most of my pain. Without them, I am but a little sore—and I feel quite certain that soreness could be easily forgotten while other things commanded my attention.” She slid his hand inside her neckline. “Especially were I to sit in the lap of a gentle lover who would allow me to move with the greatest of care for the pleasure of us both.”

Sutherland arched a dark brow. “Truly? Yer reasoning does appear sound, my love. I think we should most definitely retire to our chambers. After all, I have great respect for Jenny’s wisdom regarding a man’s health.”

“I am sure ye do,” Sorcha whispered as she slid a hand up his kilt. “Dear me. We best hurry, my love. Ye have a great swelling that I pray I can help heal.”

“Ye most assuredly can, m’lady,” he said as he scooped her up into his arms. “To our chambers.”

“Aye, my gentle lover,” she said. “To our chambers for the healing we both need.”

Chapter Seventeen

Three Months Later…

Castle Greyloch

If he caught her lifting one more heavy item, he’d turn her across his knee and spank her arse in front of all the wedding guests. “Put it down, Sorcha. Now.”

She complied, but not without a narrow-eyed glare in his direction. “If I had known ye would be worse than a mother hen protecting a lone chick, I wouldna have told ye about the babe ’til my belly started rounding. I am not an invalid just because I’m carrying our bairn.”

“Aye, well ye did make the mistake of telling me. So, ye’ll be heeding my wishes when it comes to the care of yerself and the wee one on the way. Ye willna sway me on this, my lovely, stubborn wife. Do ye hear me?”

With a huffing growl, she turned and stomped away.

“And just when did she tell ye this bairn will be born?” Magnus asked while tucking his chin to shield his smile.

“Late spring, most likely.” Sutherland shifted to the side to better see what chore he would have to scold her about next. “Same time as all the calves and foals.” More protectiveness and love than he had ever thought possible tightened his chest as he supervised his wife’s every move around the great hall—much to her irritation.