Too Scot to Hold (The Hots for Scots #8) - Caroline Lee Page 0,39

to tell me having sex with her on top willnae ensure a lad? Or the fact the mother’s feet smell like dung isnae the sign she’s carrying a lass?”

“Dung?” Davina burst out, half-laughing. “Fiona and Evelinde dinnae smell like dung!”

Rocque raised his brow. “Did ye smell their feet?”

From the twinkle in Graham’s eyes, he thought these superstitions sounded just as silly as she did. “Come along.” He slapped his brother’s shoulder. “Let us go see yer wife and investigate how soon ye’ll become a da, eh?”

As Rocque reached the door, Graham caught Davina around the waist and pulled her flush against him. He lowered his lips to hers in a kiss so sweet, so powerful, it left her knees week.

Too bad it was over before she could fully appreciate it.

As he released her, he winked. “That was to ensure ye dinnae forget me.”

She pressed trembling fingers to her lips as he released her. “As if I could,” she managed to murmur. “Be safe. Good luck.”

“Graham! Merewyn will do all the work before we arrive!” Rocque bellowed in frustration.

Wincing, Graham hurried for the door. “He’ll wake the castle,” he muttered, then turned and nodded to her. “I love ye.”

And then he was gone, on his way to deliver the first Oliphant grandson, if the color of Merewyn’s piss was to be believed.

With a tremulous laugh, Davina shook her head and began to dress in a clean gown. When she was proper again, she opened her door to allow the sounds from the corridor to drift in and was just reaching for her brush when another knock—softer this time—had her whirling back around. Her sister was grinning at her as she stood in the open doorway.

“Ye’re looking at ease this morning,” Katlyn’s said with a knowing wink. “I heard ye were a vital part of yesterday’s excitement after I took wee Tomas off yer hands.” She grimaced. “Who kenned one-year-aulds were so exhausting?”

Chuckling, Davina gestured her sister into the room as she began to straighten the tangles her night with Graham had caused. “I imagine anyone with a one-year-auld could’ve told ye that.” She smirked at Kat’s belly. “And ye’ll be learning it yerself in about, oh…a year!”

Her sister snorted as she sank down onto the bed. “Was the labor hard? Were ye really there for the whole thing?”

“The whole thing was over before I could blink!” Davina still couldn’t believe how amazing and terrifying the experience had been. “Evie must’ve been laboring all afternoon and just kept it quiet.”

“I thought she looked more uncomfortable than usual when we were all in Agatha’s sitting room yesterday!”

Davina nodded, then winced when the movement caused her hair to catch in the brush. “I took her to her room, she grabbed hold of the bed, squatted, and boom! Just like that, a bairn!”

Kat shook her head. “I cannae believe ‘twas just like that.”

“Aright, nay, there was more grunting and fluids and such. But ‘twas much faster than Fiona’s labor, for certes. I…” Davina took a breath, savoring the memory. “I caught her. The bairn, I mean. I caught her, and I dinnae think I’ll ever forget that.”

Smiling softly, Katlyn said, “They named her Ava, after Malcolm and Rocque’s mother. Did ye ken?”

“Nay, I havenae left this room since then.”

Her sister’s smile turned teasing. “Aye, and with the coverlet so messy, I have nae choice but to assume ye had a scary dream or a restless sleep. Surely ‘twas no’ because ye had company all night, which is why ye’ve risen late?”

Risen late? The sky was only now lightening!

Still, Davina didn’t bother to deny Kat’s guesses. “Graham just left with Rocque. Ye ken Merewyn is in labor?”

“Aye, Kiergan’s already gone down to the village, although ‘tis barely past dawn!”

As she gathered her hair to braid it, Davina’s brows rose. “Why? Does he expect to help Merewyn push?”

Chuckling, her sister lowered herself into one of the chairs by the hearth, rubbing at her belly. “Och, nay. He’s planning on making a general nuisance of himself to distract Rocque as much as possible.”

“Aye, that sounds like him.” Davina smiled as she deftly plaited her hair. “He’ll tease and drink with and annoy Rocque, and before he’s aware of it, Rocque will be a father without any of the worry.”

“He’s good with people,” her sister agreed. “It took him long enough to realize it, but he’s a grand leader…when he uses his diplomacy for good, rather than randy purposes.”

Davina’s smile turned fond. “He’ll make a fine laird.” The MacKinnons