Was there a part that bored you or that you didn't really like in the book?

Even a character, a scene, or anything. You could say no if nothing bothered you.

What moment from the book you enjoyed the most?

Something you liked, a specific scene, a character's quality, some detail that caught your eye.

Would you read a story if the protagonist was the villain in the previous novel in a series? *

• Yes, I like characters with a dark past
• No, I hate dark protagonists

How do you feel about premarital acts of intimacy? *

• I don't mind them at all.
• I prefer that they don't exist, but if they do exist it doesn't ruin the book for me.
• I really dislike them, I prefer my books to only have intimacy after the couple is married.

Is there something else you'd like to share?

Something you noticed, frustrated you, left you confused, etc.

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One month after the wedding…

Ewan winced as another scream ripped through the halls of MacDuff Castle. Beside him, Alistair looked on the verge of either fainting or vomiting. Ewan refilled a glass of whisky and stuffed it into his brother’s hand. It was the third he’d given Alistair, but he doubted his brother was in any danger of getting drunk.

He was more likely to pass out. Ewan wasn’t sure that he wouldn’t follow suit if his brother did collapse.

Another scream, and the two of them winced in union.

Inside the birthing chamber, Niamh cursed Alistair’s name in words that would have made a soldier blush.

The bairn was coming into the world. Ewan wasn’t sure he’d ever assisted to something more terrifying in his life.

Grace was in the chamber, alongside Catriona and Sorcha. Why the witch had shown up, Ewan had no idea. He also didn’t care. After the first candle-mark of screams and oaths, he and Alistair agreed that the more caretakers the better.

Another scream. Ewan grimaced as Alistair’s hand clenched on his shoulder. “Ow. Dinnae break me shoulder, Alistair.”

“I cannae help it. I dinnae understand… ‘tis nae like ‘tis a battle. What on earth is happenin’ in there?”

“Birth is supposed tae be hard work.”

Three serving ladies, friends of Niamh’s, came bustling by with fresh hot water and clean linens. “M’lairds.”

Alistair swallowed. “Is this…”

“’Tis all normal, and m’lady is daein’ well.” The oldest of the maids assured him. Then all three disappeared into the room, just as another scream echoed through the air.

“This is normal? How on earth does any clan ever have more than one bairn, if this is the way o’ it?”

“I havenae any more idea than ye.” Ewan swallowed hard.

“What are we supposed tae dae?” At any other time, Ewan might have enjoyed seeing his brother so flustered. Right then, however, he was entirely sympathetic.

He couldn’t imagine what he would do when and if Grace was with child, let alone when the birth occurred. Still, there was only one thing he and Alistair could do. “We have tae wait.”

Another stream of curses. Ewan grimaced and poured another drink for himself.

He hated waiting.

****

Three candle-marks had passed, and the birthing continued apace. Grace would have been about ready to panic, had it not been for the calm presence of Catriona and Sorcha, both of whom assured her that the birth was proceeding as it should.

It was terrifying. Niamh screamed, panted, gasped and cursed like a soldier. Grace, Catriona and Sorcha bustled around with warm wash cloths, cool cloths for Niamh’s brow, water and juice for her to drink, and encouragement.

Grace gasped and cried out. Catriona bent. “Och, ye’re ready. When the next wave comes, I need ye tae push. Push as if yer trying tae shove a boulder up a set o’ stairs.”

Catriona gestured to Grace and Sorcha. “Support her and give her somethin’ tae push back again’, as well as a hand tae hold.”

Grace supported one shoulder, Sorcha the other. Moments later, Niamh shrieked and her whole body convulsed in a contraction as she strove to push the bairn from her body.

Seconds of pushing, then she paused and panted for several moments. Then another wave of contractions and pushing. And another. And another.

Her hand around Grace’s was clenched tight enough to bruise, and Grace couldn’t feel her fingers. She focused on speaking softly and soothingly, while Sorcha murmured prayers and invocations to ease the pain and make the birth pass more smoothly.

Time passed, but none of the women paid it any mind. All their focus was on the birth. Grace was only vaguely aware of serving maids coming and going with fresh supplies and carrying away soiled linens and empty vessels.

Then, finally, after a time that might well have been an eternity, Catriona took a deep breath and crouched. “One more, Niamh. One more push will see ye finished.”

Another contraction, and Niamh bore down with a scream that sounded like a banshee shriek of pain. The howl ripped through the air, followed by a shout of triumph from Catriona. Then the sweetest, most wondrous sound that Grace had ever heard.

In the silence that followed Niamh’s scream, a baby cried. Niamh half-laughed, half-sobbed, her face shining with relief and joy. “Och… me bairn…”

“Aye.” Catriona rose from her crouch, a wrapped bundle in her arms. Even as Grace watched, the bundle squirmed and released a thin wail. “’Tis a beautiful little lad.”

“A… a son.” Niamh sobbed and collapsed back against the pillows. Grace smiled as she tucked Niamh’s arms by her side.

The next few moments passed in a blur as they worked to deliver the afterbirth, clean Niamh up and make her comfortable. Then the bairn wailed, and Catriona placed him in his mother’s arms.

Grace stepped out into the hall. Ewan darted toward her. “Is Niamh…?”

“She’s well, she and the bairn both. They’re both healthy.” Grace held the door open. “You can come and see them.”

Ewan barely had time to get out of the way before Alistair shoved his way past and charged into the room with all the grace of a drunken bull. Grace and Ewan shared an amused look, before following the new father.

Inside, Catriona and Sorcha were continuing the work of tidying up the room. Alistair was seated awkwardly, half on, half off the bed. All his attention was focused on his wife and the babe in her arms. “Och… he’s amazing… and so are ye…”

Grace smiled and leaned against Ewan. “They look perfect together.”

“They are.” Ewan wrapped his arms around her. “Ye did well.”

Grace laughed softly. “’Twas Niamh that did all the hard work. I only sat and encouraged her.”

In response, Ewan lifted her hand to reveal the darkening bruises. “Ye did more than ye ken. And ye were here, as she desired. That means everything.”

The bairn gurgled sleepily. Catriona smiled and waved a hand at Ewan and Grace. Sorcha had already vanished through the door. “Ye can stare at them later. Niamh and the bairn need their rest. And Alistair willnae be pried away any time soon.”

Grace laughed, and she and Ewan followed the healer out the door.

She felt tired, but also elated. Niamh’s delivery had been the first test of the skills she had learned from Sorcha and Catriona, and she felt that she had done well. Niamh now had a healthy son in her arms.

“What are ye thinkin’ about?”

“Niamh and her son.” She looked up into Ewan’s face.

Ewan laughed. “Aye, me as well.” He bent close and nuzzled her neck. “I wonder… perhaps we should work on havin’ one o’ our own?”

Grace giggled, lightheaded with relief, and kissed him again.

The End.

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