"I don't understand."
He took hold of her hand, sat her down on the stone ledge and sat beside her. "In the beginning, I didn't understand this bond between the two of you. You seemed to trust each other completely."
"We do trust each other completely," she told him.
He nodded. "She never told anyone who your father was, and you never worried she would."
Iain seemed to be working something out in his mind. His voice was slow, hesitant. "You in effect gave her a weapon to use against you. A man would never do such a thing."
"Some would."
"I wouldn't," he admitted. "And until I met you, I didn't believe such trust existed."
Abruptly, he stood up. He clasped his hands behind his back and turned to face her. "You've shown me you can give your friend your complete trust. I want the same, Judith. You've told me you trust me. Yet if you trusted me with all your heart, completely, you would accept without question that when I tell you I love you, I mean it. Only then will your uncertainty, your fear, your hurt go away."
Her head was bowed low. She realized he was speaking the truth. "I didn't trust you enough to tell you who my father was," she admitted in a whisper. "But I would have gotten around to it… someday. I was afraid you wouldn't want me any longer if you knew."
"If you'd trusted me enough…"
She nodded. "I did try, right before the wedding ceremony… Why didn't you let me tell you then?"
"I was desperate to protect you, and the only way I knew how was to make you my wife. The council wouldn't have given the matter a second thought. If they'd learned Maclean was your father, they would have used you to try to destroy him."
"If I'd only left the ring back in England, none of this-"
He didn't let her finish. "Secrets have a way of being found out," he told her. "Too many people knew the truth. Your relatives in England might have gone to the Macleans to get their support in order to get you back." He shrugged. "They still might." He didn't seem overly worried about that possibility.
"Iain, I don't think I can stay here. The way Graham looked at me when he found out who my father was… He'll never accept me as a Maitland now. I'll be an outsider again. No, I can't stay here."
"All right."
His immediate agreement confused her. She thought he would at least ask her to try, and she would then be very noble and give her agreement. How could he confess his love for her and agree to let her leave?
Judith wasn't given time to make him explain. Patrick opened the door and shouted her name.
She went back inside and found Frances Catherine beaming with pleasure. Judith assumed her friend's husband had been properly contrite.
Frances Catherine didn't feel the ache in her lower back quite as much when she was walking, and so she slowly paced back and forth in front of the hearth while Judith saw to the necessary preparations.
Her friend had a hundred questions to ask about the Macleans. Judith couldn't answer any of them. When she was finally allowed to speak a full sentence without being interrupted, she told her friend about Douglas.
"I have a brother. He's exactly five years older," Judith said. "My mother left him and never said a word to anyone."
Frances Catherine almost toppled over. She became irate on Judith's behalf. "That bloody bitch," she shouted.
She was about to bellow another dark opinion of Judith's mother when she heard her husband apologizing for her outside the window. She slapped her hand over her mouth to keep her laughter contained.
"Your mother's a monster," she whispered. "If there's any justice in this world, she'll get what's coming to her."
Judith didn't believe that was true, but she wasn't about to argue with her friend now. "Perhaps," she allowed.
"Agnes got what was coming to her," Frances Catherine announced with a nod.
"Why, what happened to her?" Judith asked.
Frances Catherine seemed not to hear her. "Aye, she did. She was a fool to spread such sinful rumors about you and think our laird wouldn't hear them."
"Iain heard?" Judith asked.
"He did," Frances Catherine said. She paused to concentrate on the pain that gripped her, holding on to the edge of the mantel until it had passed. Then she mopped her brow with a linen square. "Lord, that one was a bit stronger than the last."
"It lasted longer, too," Judith told her.
Frances Catherine nodded. "Now, where was I? Oh yes, Agnes."
"Exactly what did Iain hear?"
"That you were carrying his child before he wed you."
"Dear God, he must have been furious…"
"Oh, he was that, all right," Frances Catherine agreed. "You and Patrick and Graham had taken off to go fishing, and Iain came back from his duties about two hours' later. He looked in on me to make certain I wasn't needing anything. That was thoughtful of him, wasn't it? Iain's wanned considerably since he married you, Judith. He never used-"
"Frances Catherine, you're digressing," Judith interrupted. "What did he do about Agnes?"
"I was getting to that," her friend said. "Iain went along up to the keep. Someone must have stopped him to tell him. Or perhaps one of the elders mentioned-"
"I don't care how he heard," Judith interrupted again. "I want to know what he did about it. You're making me daft, Frances Catherine, skirting around and around the way you are."
Frances Catherine smiled. "It's taken your mind off the birthing, hasn't it?"
Judith nodded. Then she begged her friend to finish her explanation.
Frances Catherine was happy to oblige. "He went directly to Agnes's cottage. Brodick told me so. He stopped by, too, just to make certain I was all right. I think Patrick nagged him into looking in on me. Anyway, another hour passed, and I went outside to take in some fresh air when I saw Agnes and her daughter, Cecilia, all packed up and marching down the hill. Brodick told me they were leaving Maitland land. They won't be back, either, Judith."
"Where will they go?"
"To Agnes's cousins," Frances Catherine explained. "They had an escort of soldiers riding with them."
"Iain never said a word to me." Judith mulled that fact over for several minutes while Frances Catherine resumed her pacing.
Helen knocked on the door, interrupting the private discussion. "We'll talk about this later," Frances Catherine whispered.
Judith nodded. She helped Helen carry in a giant pile of linens and add them to the others on the table. Winslow was right behind the housekeeper. He carried in the birthing stool. Frances Catherine promptly invited the warrior to stay for the nooning meal. Winslow was too surprised by the invitation to do more than shake his head.
Patrick wasn't in any condition to see to the chore of hanging the plaid across the beam. Winslow took care of the duty. Frances Catherine tried to serve him a beverage when he was finished.
He refused the wine and started out the doorway. He suddenly stopped and turned around again. "My wife is waiting in the courtyard," he said. "She wants to help. If you don't want her…"
"Please send her inside," Judith requested. "We'll be happy for her company, won't we, Frances Catherine?"
Her friend brightened up. "Oh, yes," she agreed. "She can have her nooning meal with us."
Helen paused in her task of folding back the bedding to look up. "Are you really hungry, lass? I could bring down some soup I made late yesterday. It's been simmering all through the night."
"Yes, thank you," Frances Catherine answered. "I'm not at all hungry, though."
"Then why-" Judith began.
"When it's time for supper, we have to have our supper," Frances Catherine insisted. "Everything has to be… usual. All right, Judith?"