Black Richard's Heart (The MacCulloughs #1) - Suzan Tisdale Page 0,164
a cushioned chair next to the hearth in her bedchamber. Her heart was filled with so much joy as she held her son in her arms. She liked these quiet moments, when ’twas just she and her babe and she could have him all to herself.
Her mum had left yesterday, after a lengthy visit. There were many late-night talks between she and her mum. Important talks which allowed Aeschene to set aside all the anger she had felt for more than three years.
Wrapped in a soft blue blanket, having just nursed, her wee son slept contentedly in her arms. Occasionally, he would let out the softest, sweetest sighs. Even if she couldn’t actually see him, she knew he was beautiful. Everyone told her so.
There came a soft wrap on her door and a moment later, Richard was walking in. She heard a second set of footfalls and assumed ’twas Marisse coming to steal another look or chance to hold him. She and Rory had announced last week that they were expecting their first babe. He or she would arrive in late July. Marisse could never resist the urge to hold Brody.
“Aeschene, love,” Richard said keeping is voice soft and low. “There is someone here I would like ye to meet.”
Pulling her gaze from her son, her brow knitted.
“Aeschene, this is Benasuto Abatangelo,” Richard said.
“’Tis a pleasure to make yer acquaintance, my lady.”
She took note of his thick Italian accent and the richness of his voice. But for the life of her, she couldn’t figure out why there was an Italian standing in her bedchamber.
Richard pulled up a stool and sat next to her. “Lass, have ye ever heard of spectacles?”
It took a week for the monk to get the lenses to her spectacles the proper thickness. Typically, the lenses were much thinner with a piece of thick wire holding the two pieces together. Typically, the spectacles sat on the wearer’s nose with little problem.
But Aeschene’s vision was so poor, it required the use of much thicker glass. Nearly an inch thick and quite heavy, they were too heavy to rest comfortably on her nose.
After several failed attempts, Brother Abatangelo sought out the clan’s blacksmith. Together, they were able to fashion heavy wire ear pieces that would wrap around Aeschene’s ears, helping to keep her spectacles in place.
Nearly a year to the day she married Black Richard MacCullough, she sat nervously in her cushioned chair by the fire, and waited for Brother Abatangelo to finish his final adjustments.
“I want the first person I see to be Richard,” she told him for the dozenth time.
“And as I have told ye, my lady, ye will see me first. I need to make certain the lenses are correct.”
“Fine,” she muttered. “But Richard next, aye?”
“Si, my lady. You will see your husband as soon as we know they are correct.”
Carefully, he placed the spectacles over her eyes, securing the wires behind her ears. Aeschene kept her eyes closed, still not quite believing these thick pieces of glass would finally allow her to see again.
“Open your eyes, my lady,” Brother Abatangelo said.
She took in a deep steadying breath and slowly opened her eyes.
It took a long moment before her eyes began to focus.
Brother Abatangelo was not at all how she had imagined him. Thick black hair covered his head. Brown eyes that sparked in the candlelight. He was a rather handsome fellow.
“I can see ye!” she exclaimed in sheer amazement.
He smiled down at her before standing upright. She saw him smile!
“Close your eyes, my lady, and I shall bring your husband in.”
She closed them at once as her heart filled with nervous anticipation. She didn’t realize she was gripping the arms of her chair so tightly until her fingers began to ache.
The footfalls coming toward her were undeniably Richard’s. She listened quietly as he sat on a stool in front of her. He took his hands in hers and pressed tender kisses to her knuckles. “Are ye certain ye want to see this auld, ugly face of mine?” he whispered.
She answered by opening her eyes.
‘Twould have taken Devine intervention to keep her tears at bay. “My God! Ye are beautiful!” she cried. Leaning over, she ran her fingers over his face, touching and examining every square inch. “Ye are so beautiful!”
He chuckled with a good measure of disbelief. “Lass, men are nae beautiful.”
“Mine is,” she replied, swiping away a tear. She couldn’t pull her gaze away. She examined him closely, turning his face this way and that, all the while smiling and crying tears of sheer joy. “Where is yer scar?”
Taken aback by her question, he pointed to it. “Lass, are the spectacles nae workin’ proper? My scar is right here.”
“That? Ye call that a scar?” She shook her head. “That is what ye were so worried about? That tiny thing?”
He laughed then, full and hearty. “Ye are daft.”
Ignoring him, she kissed him sweetly. “’Tis true, Richard. Ye are beautiful.”
He still didn’t believe her, but he was quite thankful she hadn’t shied away in horror.
“My babe,” she said. “Please, I want to see our son.”
Marisse stepped forward carrying wee Brody MacCullough in her arms. He was swaddled in a pretty yellow blanket, and for the first time, Aeschene could see little tuffs of dark hair.
“Marisse, ye are stunning!” Aeschene said, swiping away more tears.
Marisse thanked her and put the babe in her arms.
When she saw her bairn for the first time, with his perfect cherubic face, all his dark hair, his wee nose and sweet little lips, she came undone. She sobbed until she shook and could scarce breathe. Richard wrapped his arms around her, “Wheest, lass, wheest.”
She couldn’t help it. He heart was filled with so much joy, so much happiness, ’twas uncontainable.
People quit the room in silence, allowing Richard and Aeschene this moment alone.
“He is so beautiful!” Aeschene wept.
“Just like his mother,” Richard said as he handed her a piece of linen to dry her eyes.
“Nay,” she argued. “Just like his father.”
They stayed alone in the room for quite some time. Aeschene didn’t care to look at anything else in their chamber. All she had ever wanted to see was her husband and her bairn.
For the rest of the day Aeschene got used to her spectacles and finally being able to put faces to the names and voices she had come to love. Raibeart most resembled Richard in both looks and mannerisms. Colyne was just as adorable as she had pictured in her mind.
After an hour, her eyes and head began to ache. Brother Abatangelo assured her that was perfectly normal. “Only wear them an hour or so a day for the next week,” he instructed her over the evening meal. “After that, increase it by a few hours until you have grown accustomed to them.”
’Twas awfully difficult to remove them, but she acquiesced.
Later that night, after her babe was safely tucked into his cradle, Aeschene climbed into bed next to her husband. She reached over and grabbed her spectacles from the table by the bed and put them back on.
“What are ye doin’?” Richard asked. “Brother Abatangelo said-”
“I know full well what he said, husband,” she replied before kissing him most soundly. “But I do believe I want to see what I have been lovin’ for the past year.”
Who was he to deny her such a request?
She spent the rest of the night examining him from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. Committing every bit of his magnificent body to memory.
Spent, sated, and feeling quite pleased, she removed the spectacles and returned them to the table. Richard pulled her to his side, covering her with thick furs.
“I love ye, Richard. Never forget that.”
He patted the hand she had resting on his chest. “And I love ye, Aeschene.”