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"Winslow's aunts will help and so will I," Isabelle volunteered. "We could take the mornings."
"I could stay from the supper hour on through the nights," Helen suggested.
Both women looked at Judith, expecting her to agree to take the afternoons. She shook her head. "We'll have to find someone to fill in," she said. "I can't promise to help because I'm not at all certain how much longer I'll be staying here."
"What in heaven's name are you talking about?" Isabelle asked, clearly astonished by Judith's remarks.
"I'll explain tomorrow," Judith promised. "Now I want to talk about Frances Catherine. I want both of you to promise me you'll take care of her. She mustn't be allowed out of bed. She isn't out of danger yet."
Judith could hear the desperation in her own voice. She couldn't control that. Exhaustion was making her more emotional, she supposed.
Neither Isabelle nor Helen argued with her. Judith was thankful for their silence. Helen let out a weary sigh. The sadness she saw on her mistress's face tore at her heart.
She decided to try to lighten the conversation. "Were you two as surprised as I was when Frances Catherine started in laboring a second time?"
Both Isabelle and Judith smiled.
"You're both looking ready to fall down," Helen said. "Go on home and get some rest. I'll stay the rest of the night."
Neither Isabelle nor Judith had the strength or inclination to move. It was so quiet, so peaceful just sitting there staring out into the darkness.
Judith heard a sound behind her and turned. Iain and Winslow were coming down the hill. She quickly turned around again and tried to straighten her appearance. She brushed her hair back over her shoulders, pinched her cheeks for color, and tried to smooth the wrinkles out of her gown.
Isabelle watched her. "You still look like h.e.l.l," she whispered with a giggle.
Judith was astonished by the remark. Isabelle was such a sweet, soft-spoken woman. Judith didn't know she had it in her to tease. She burst into laughter. "So do you," she whispered back.
They stood up at the same time to greet their husbands, then leaned into each other, trying to force the other to take all the weight.
"I don't care what I look like," Isabelle confessed. "Winslow wants to... you know, and I don't think I should this soon. It's only been seven weeks. I think we should wait seven more... but some nights, I do want to..."
Judith wasn't certain she understood what Isabelle was stammering on and on about. She saw her blush and finally caught on. "Maude told me it's usual to wait six weeks before... sleeping with your husband."
Isabelle immediately tried to straighten her appear ance. Judith found her action vastly amusing. Her laughter started Isabelle laughing, too.
Helen shook her head over their pitiful condition.
Iain and Winslow thought they'd lost their minds. Helen gave them the good news about Frances Catherine. Both warriors were pleased, of course, but their attention remained on their ill-disciplined wives.
"Isabelle, get hold of yourself," Winslow ordered. "You're acting like you're sotted."
She bit her lower lip to stop herself from laughing. "What are you doing up at this time of night?" she asked. "Why aren't you home with our son?"
"My aunt's there," Winslow answered.
"Is she going to stay the full night?"
Winslow thought that was an odd question to ask. "Of course," he answered. "I'll sleep up at the keep."
Isabelle frowned at her husband. He raised an eyebrow over her reaction. "Isabelle, what in G.o.d's name is the matter with you?" he asked in exasperation.
Isabelle didn't answer. Judith walked over to her husband. "Why aren't you in bed?"
"I was waiting for you."
She was overwhelmed by his admission. Her eyes immediately filled with tears. Iain put his arm around her shoulders and turned to leave. Helen bid everyone good-night and went back inside the cottage.
Isabelle had inadvertently blocked their exit through the courtyard entrance when she moved forward to confront her husband. She didn't realize Iain and Judith were standing right behind her. "I don't want to sleep with your aunt," she blurted out. "I want to sleep with you. Judith says we only had to wait six weeks, husband, and it's been seven now."
Winslow pulled his wife into his arms and out of the way so Iain and Judith could get past them. He leaned down and whispered into his wife's ear.
Alex, Gowrie, and Ramsey caught Judith's attention. The three warriors came striding down the hill. When they were close enough for her to see their expressions, her breath caught in her throat. The men looked furious.
She moved closer into Iain's side. "Why are they awake?" she whispered.
"There was a meeting," he answered. "It lasted longer than expected."
Iain didn't seem inclined to explain what had happened, and she was too exhausted, and frightened, to ask him. After tossing and turning for quite a long time, finally Judith fell into a fitful sleep.
Chapter 15.
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"Judith, wake up. It's time to leave."
Iain was gently shaking her awake. She opened her eyes and found her husband sitting on the side of the bed. One look at his dark expression and her mind immediately cleared of sleep.
She sat up, pulled the covers around her and stared at him. "Leave?" she whispered, trying to understand. "I'm leaving now?"
"Yes." His voice was hard, his expression just as determined.
Why was he acting so cold? Judith grasped his arm when he tried to stand up. "So soon, Iain?"
"Yes," he answered. "Within the hour, if possible." He pulled her hand away from his arm, leaned down to kiss her brow, and then stood up and walked over to the door.
She called out to him. "I would like to say good-bye to Frances Catherine."
"There isn't time," he told her. "Pack only one valise. Bring it to the stables. I'll meet you there."
The door closed behind her husband. She promptly burst into tears. She knew she was being pitiful. She didn't care. She wasn't thinking clearly either. She had told Iain she didn't want to stay here. He was simply giving her what she wanted.
d.a.m.n it all, how could he let her go? Didn't he realize how much she loved him?
Judith washed, then dressed in her dark royal-blue gown. She brushed her hair, packed her valise, and when she was finally ready to leave, she took one last look around her chamber.
Her plaid was hanging on the peg near the door. She didn't want to leave it behind. She folded the garment and put it in her valise.
She quit weeping. She quit feeling sorry for herself, too. Lord, she was fighting angry now. A husband who truly loved his wife wouldn't let her leave him. She needed to tell Iain that. He did love her. She didn't have any doubts about that. It didn't matter either that his actions were so confusing to her. She would simply make him explain what he was doing... and why.