Black Richard's Heart (The MacCulloughs #1) - Suzan Tisdale Page 0,128
completely caught off guard and looked to his laird for support. There was no time for him to ask what on earth they were talking about, for Loreen started in again.
“I knew it!” Loreen said, clucking her tongue in the same manner as Mable Newsome. “Richard, I tried to warn ye, I did! I warned ye that these women were no good, especially that maid of hers.”
“To be unmarried and in a family way, and to be the maid to our lady?” Mable interjected. “What example does that set for all the maidens of our clan?” She asked Richard that question, but didn’t wait for a response. “A poor one, I tell ye. A poor one indeed.”
The two women continued to cluck and make their rather vociferous protests.
Richard held up one hand and calmly asked for quiet. His request went unheeded.
“She has bewitched our young Rory,” Mable declared. “I have known the lad since he was born. A good lad he is and not one to go about lifting skirts and acting no better than a lecher.”
“I blame her,” Loreen added.
“As do I,” Mable said with a rather indigent harrumph.
Lachlan was doing his best not to laugh as Mable extolled Rory’s virtues. Everyone within a hundred miles new the lad’s reputation as it pertained to the lasses. And it was nothing remotely similar to the saint Mable was attempting to paint him.
An ache began to form at the back of Richard’s skull. He’d heard enough to realize the women believed Marisse was carrying Rory’s child. “Rory, is this true? Have ye gotten Marisse with child?”
Rory’s eyes grew wide in abject horror. ’Twas the only answer Richard needed to know the rumors currently flying around like flies on a dead badger carcass were not true.
“Enough!” Richard barked, startling the women into silence. “Why on earth do ye believe Marisse is with child?”
“She was seen going into the midwife’s cottage less than a half an hour ago,” Mable said, her indignant air increasing tenfold. “Sneakin’ about, she was, as if she didn’t want to be seen.” Another cluck of her tongue. “’Tis shameful, laird. Just shameful!”
The ache in his head intensified. He closed his eyes for a moment as he pressed against the bridge of his nose with his index finger and thumb. When he opened them, Rory was gone, running toward the keep as if his arse were on fire.
Richard seriously doubted Marisse was with child for she was too busy taking care of his wife… His wife.
Richard’s heart skipped several beats before roaring back. It pounded against his chest, a blend of glee and pride consuming his heart and stomach.
’Twas the only thing that made sense!
She had been beyond exhausted for weeks now. She’d also complained of an upset stomach, but not with any regularity as one might expect in someone with child.
Marisse had undoubtedly sought out the midwife to confirm whatever suspicions his wife might have about her condition. And the blasted gossips assumed ’twas Marisse who was with child.
Lachlan had been watching Richard closely, ignoring the wagging tongues. ’Twas as if the two men came to the same conclusion at the same time. Lachlan smiled devilishly at his cousin and slapped him on the back. “Well, done, Richard. Well done.”
Mable and Loreen stopped talking, mouths suspended in mid protest when the two men walked away.
“Poor, Rory,” Lachlan said with a chuckle.
“Poor Rory?” Richard asked as they hurried toward the keep.
Lachlan chuckled. “He is verra much in love with Marisse. My guess is he is at this verra moment makin’ an arse of himself.”
Richard couldn’t resist a chuckle himself. “I wonder how the lass feels about him?”
Lachlan snorted. “Chances are good she will despise him before the hour is out.”
Rory went straight away to Richard’s bedchamber and pounded on the door. “Marisse!” he shouted. “I need to speak with ye!”
A moment later, Marisse opened the door, but only a crack. With a furrowed brow, she said, “Not now, Rory. I—”
He gave her no time to argue. “I ken ye have the midwife within the chamber,” he told her. His jaw ached from gritting his teeth. “Who is the father?”
Taken aback, her brow knotted deeper. “How dare ye ask such a thing!”
“Who. Is. The. Father?”
Marisse slid through the small crack in the door and shut it behind her. “Why on earth are ye being so disrespectful? I am appalled, Rory.”
“I will nae ask ye again.” From the moment he first saw her months ago, he had loved her. But her