now as well. They’d all make good lairds, but I think Kiergan is especially blessed. He’s diplomatic and charming, but he kens people, and ‘tis important.”
Vina put her shoulder to the heavy oak door, remembering last summer when it was left open all the time. “He’s blessed because he has ye, Kat.”
Her sister snorted, and Vina smiled as they stepped inside.
Last year, Laird Oliphant had gathered his bastard sons together—not realizing he was missing one—and declared since they were all the same age, the only way to determine who would be his heir would be the son who married and produced a son first.
Finn, the charmer who handled the clan’s trade agreements, immediately married Fiona, the woman he already loved. Fiona must have fallen pregnant soon after their marriage. Finn’s twin brother Duncan, a goldsmith by trade, wanted naught to do with the lairdship, but that didn’t stop him from marrying Skye—who happened to be Fiona’s twin sister—after she held him up on the road to steal his valuables. Both of them had settled into a simple life near Duncan’s forge, and Kat wondered if now they would consider having a bairn or two, since they were now out of the running to be the next laird.
Rocque—the clan’s commander in charge of the warriors—married next, convincing his long-time mistress Merewyn, the clan’s healer and midwife, of his love. His twin brother Malcolm, his opposite in many ways, decided to use his intellect. He had chosen a woman who already had two sons, believing that made her more likely to birth a third son. Davina had giggled with her sister over how Malcolm had so sorely miscalculated when he’d ignored the possibility of falling in love with his wife and her sons.
Merewyn and Evelinde—Malcolm’s wife—were both pregnant before Davina and Grandda had traveled back home to Mull last year. The fifth Oliphant wife wasn’t, but Kat’s letters had shared that Lara—somber Alistair’s wife—was now with child, and both seemed pleased, although there wasn’t much likelihood of Alistair’s winning the position of the next laird.
By the time Davina and Kat had made it to the great hall, the older sister was breathing heavily. “Shall we rest a moment?”
“Nay, the bairn just has me winded as usual. I’ll see ye settled in yer chamber. ‘Tis the same one we were given last year.”
When Katlyn winked, Vina wasn’t certain what she was thinking. Aye, the chamber was nice—and the bed was comfortable—but the entrance to the secret passages also held some memories for her. Good memories, but now that Graham had abandoned her, Davina didn’t like thinking of them.
So, she offered her sister a small, non-committal smile. “Then hold on to my arm while we climb the next set of steps, aye? I willnae be the one to tell Kiergan I allowed his beloved wife to grow tired and fall over.”
Kat snorted softly, but she did lean more of her weight on Davina’s arm as they climbed. “He’d never let me forget it; he’s always nagging me to be more careful.”
“ ’Tis because he loves ye.”
“And I love him, but I trust him to do his job, and he should trust me no’ to endanger our bairn. ‘Tis just that I’m so alarmingly pregnant, and he hovers.”
“Alarmingly pregnant? Is that a technical midwifing term?”
Kat’s lips twitched, although she tried to nod solemnly. “Aye, I’m alarmingly pregnant. Lara has finally passed the mildly pregnant stage into the fully pregnant one.”
“And Evie?” Davina asked, as they reached the top of the steps.
“She’s dangerously pregnant. When ye see her, ye’ll ken what I mean. And Merewyn herself is absurdly pregnant.”
Laughing, Davina allowed her sister to pull her into the room she remembered from last year. But instead of looking around, allowing herself to remember, she took Kat’s hands in hers and marveled at the way her sister’s face lit up as she laughed.
A year ago, Katlyn had been sure she’d never marry and would never carry a bairn. But she’d found a man—a man Vina herself was supposed to marry—who could look past the “curse” of her different colored eyes and love her for the kind, thoughtful person she was.
Davina squeezed her hands, wanting to keep her sister joyful. “Ye expect me to believe these are all midwifing terms Merewyn uses?”
“I cannae believe ye’d doubt me!” Kat pulled her hands free and began to tick off points on her fingers. “The first stage is suspiciously pregnant, where ye and others cannae quite be sure. Then comes mildly