Page 31 of A Fine Scottish Spell (The Magical Matchmakers of Seven Cairns #2)
“Our lady will wish to bathe this morning,” a lilting voice, the voice of a woman, said. “But tell the lads to bring plenty of cool water along with the hot. Too hot of a bath will not be permitted for our lady in her condition.”
Emily almost gave herself away with a groan. Apparently, Gryffe had put the word out that they were expecting. Was he really that certain? More importantly, was he accurate?
“Aye, m’lady,” Inalfi said in a subdued tone. “I shall see to it immediately.”
My lady? Emily couldn’t remember Inalfi addressing anyone but her that way. The bedchamber door creaked, then thumped shut.
“She is gone now, Lady Emily,” the unknown woman said, her lilting voice made even more musical with amusement. “And she does wish to stay, if ye so choose to allow her to do so.”
Holding the bedclothes to her chest to hide her nakedness, Emily pushed herself up in the bed and scooted back against the headboard.
The unexplainable light she had sensed was the woman sitting at the table in front of the window.
Even though her apparel was an overskirt and jacket of wool dyed in subdued tones of burgundy and gray with a fichu of white at her throat and lacy white cuffs peeping out of her sleeves, the lady emitted an inexplicable luminance.
Maybe it was her silvery blonde hair or the otherworldly creaminess of her complexion, but she seemed to glow , for lack of a better word.
“Uhm…” Emily inwardly cringed at her lack of hospitality, even if this was her bedroom that the stranger had invaded. “Since you already seem to know who I am…uhm…who are you?”
The woman laughed, her gleaming smile as sparkling and filled with light as the rest of her.
“Forgive me, m’lady. I am Tayda, the Bright.
Sent by the beneficent Queen Nicnevin to be yer lady-in-waiting.
Formerly, I was a courtier for the beloved queen and pleased her greatly.
Her Majesty felt I might bring ye the same comfort and companionship I provided to her. ”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Emily said, trying to sound polite and grateful even though she smelled a rat—a rat named Gryffe.
Apparently, he had been quite busy not only informing one and all that they might be expecting a child, but also telling his mother that Inalfi had lied, and his wife needed a friend.
Tayda swept toward her with a steaming cup of something that smelled as delicious and tempting as her favorite caramel iced frappuccino from the coffee shop back in Jersey. “Here ye are, m’lady. A special blend I developed long ago. ’Tis one of my favorites.”
“Thank you.” Emily accepted the cup, breathing in the steamy fragrance that took her back home and made her smile. “It smells wonderful.”
Tayda offered her a graceful nod before returning to her seat at the table. “I know ye heard my request for yer bath. I thought it might refresh ye after yer eventful night in the Dreaming and then yer return home to beget the next prince.”
Emily choked, coughing on the sip that had gone down sideways. “Beget the next prince?”
“Oh dear. Forgive me.” Tayda rushed to her, took away the cup, and rubbed her back. “Do ye need a basin?”
Clearing her throat, Emily shook her head. “No…no…it just went down the wrong pipe. Thank you. I’m fine now.” She tried to assume a calm she didn’t feel. “Did Gryffe tell you we had made a prince?”
“Oh no, m’lady. As soon as the wee one took hold in yer womb and sang his song, all of Fae heard him and rejoiced that Prince Gryffe had fulfilled the prophecy rather than Prince Roric.
” She glanced around as if to ensure they were truly alone.
“None of us much cares for Prince Roric. He is always so petulant.”
Emily stared at the woman, completely at a loss. “I am sorry. I’m going to need a little more information here. Gryffe never said he was a prince. In fact, I believe he mentioned that Nicnevin had chosen Roric as her heir—not Gryffe.”
Tayda waved away the words with a laugh that sounded like the clear pinging of fine crystal.
“Oh no, m’lady. Queen Nicnevin must bow to the Unseelie prophecy that has always been and always will be.
Whichever of her sons found his fated mate first and sired a child, that son is heir to the throne of the Dark Fae and his son—or his daughter—is the next prince or princess.
” Tayda gave Emily her drink once more and pulled a chair closer to the bed.
“Children are rare for the Unseelie. ’Tis why our kingdom is sadly dwindling.
When yer precious child awakened in yer womb, we all heard him.
” She smiled. “At least, we believe it is a wee prince. His soul’s song was strong like the roar of a mighty beast.” She leaned forward with a conspiratorial look.
“But I heard the brightest laughter along with that roar. Who knows? Maybe a wee princess decided to come along as well, to ensure her brother behaves.”
“Oh my.” Emily decided not to try another sip of the drink, fearing she would choke again in case Tayda had any more bombshell revelations. “So, the Fae really can hear a child? Even as early as conception?”
“Of course.” Tayda looked at her as if amazed that there was ever any doubt.
Trembling, Emily set her drink aside and hugged herself. “A baby.”
“Aye.” With an understanding nod, Tayda seemed to glow brighter. “Prince Gryffe is more pleased than I have ever seen him. He actually smiled.”
Inalfi entered the bedroom, commandeering the lads carrying not only the bathtub but the steaming kettles as well. When she turned and spied Emily, she flew to the side of the bed and dropped to her knees. “Please forgive me for lying to ye, m’lady. I swear it will never happen again.”
Uncomfortable with such an overt apology, Emily waved for the maid to stand. “It’s all right, Inalfi. You only did it because you were so angry with me for hurting Himself. I know how loyal to him you are.”
Eyes still downcast, Inalfi stood there wringing her hands. “I was still wrong to behave so poorly, m’lady, and I am sorry. May I please stay and serve ye?”
“Of course you may. As long as that is what you wish to do. I don’t want you to stay if you’re not happy here.”
“Fate indeed blessed our prince with such a fair minded lady,” Tayda said. “Would ye not agree, Inalfi?”
Bowing her head lower, Inalfi backed up a step to include Tayda in her groveling. “A most fair minded wife indeed, m’lady, and I am blessed to have her as a mistress.”
While Emily appreciated the apology, the excessive laying it on made her shudder.
“Our lady is chilled,” Inalfi said with a snap of her fingers at the lads. “Hie yerselves with the rest of that water. Now!”
Relaxing back into the pillows, Emily breathed a sigh of relief. There was the Inalfi to whom she was accustomed.
Tayda smiled and nodded while reaching for Emily’s cup. “Another, m’lady?”
“That would be lovely.”
* * *
Even the sting of sleet and snow didn’t faze Gryffe as he strode along the path atop the skirting wall.
He was as warm and contented as if lounging in front of a roaring fire.
His precious Emily had committed fully to their bond.
If she hadn’t, their beloved bairn’s soul never would have taken root in her womb so early in their marriage.
He almost smiled, silently thanking his father for such determined virility in siring bairns because the Unseelie struggled with procreation and the continuance of their race.
Excitement thrummed through him like the wildness of a storm crashing waves against the shore.
A wee bairn. His and Emily’s child. How would he ever find the patience to wait all those months to hold the babe in his arms?
Eyes narrowed against winter’s blasting tempest, he looked out upon his lands as he strolled, then came to a halt and frowned.
That light skimming along the base of the mountains—he had only seen such a light once before.
A Weaver was coming, the most powerful Weaver of all, from the brightness and hue of that beacon.
That did not bode well for this auspicious day.
A day when Clan MacStrath and the Dark Fae should know nothing other than celebration.
The only time a Weaver, and most especially this Weaver, ever traveled past the boundaries of Seven Cairns was if something was terribly wrong, so wrong that the Highland Veil risked falling.
“Ferris!” Gryffe moved faster toward the battlement facing the ridgeline. “Ferris!”
“I see it.” Ferris stepped out of the storm’s white haze. “’Tis the old one, for sure. Her scent rides on the winds.”
“Triple the guard. Whatever news she brings canna be good.”
“I already have,” Ferris said. “Think ye she comes for yer lady? From everything shared with us, it seemed as though Lady Emily was their lost mortal.”
“And yet none of them knew her when I took her to Seven Cairns.” Gryffe bared his teeth, glaring at the light coming ever closer. “They broke her heart that day. I will not give them another chance to put her through such misery, especially not now.”
“We canna refuse her entry. Ye ken that as well as I.”
“I know.” As the light drew ever closer, it split into two glowing orbs.
Gryffe tightened his fists, popping every knuckle.
“Two feckin’ Weavers and one of them, Mairwen.
I will not allow them to take her.” He turned to Ferris and thumped his chest with his fist. “Even if I must rescind my oath and position as Grand Chieftain of the Defenders. Nothing matters but my Emily and our bairn.”
Ferris bowed his head. “I understand.”
“More importantly, do ye support me?”
“Aye, I do. Without question.”
Gryffe bared his teeth at the orbs, willing them to feel his protective fury. If need be, he would call down the forces of the Unseelie to protect his own. For the first time in his long life, he was thankful for his ancestry. The Dark Fae were renowned warriors.