Scottish Highlands

October 15, 1432

Beitris sat in the garden, a book in hand. It was an unusually sunny autumn’s day. The leaves were changing, casting the garden in honey and crimson hues. Beitris smiled while turning her face towards the sun, enjoying its warmth despite the crisp air. She pulled the shawl closer to her body, shivering at the light sweep of the wind rolling past.

“My lady,” someone called.

Beitris gently closed her book, turning towards a servant stumbling towards her through the narrow dirt path. “My lady, the new cook has arrived.”

Beitris clutched her book to her chest as she rose. Her brow furrowed as she tried to recall if there had been any mention of a new cook; however she couldn’t recall anything. She swallowed the bile threatening to rise and grimaced at the nausea sweeping over her. Her hand clasped the tree at her side, leaning into it while she tried to shake away the sickness overwhelming her.

“My lady,” the servant said, worry tinging her voice. “Are ye well?”

Beitris nodded as the nausea left her, and she forced a smile, hoping it would ease the servant’s worries. “Of course. Please,” she gestured towards the path, “take me to the new cook. I wouldn’t want to keep her waiting.”

Beitris followed the servant to the courtyard, finding a beautiful woman with long, fiery red hair and green eyes scowling up at Scott with her hands planted on her hips. “Ye don’t say,” the woman said bitterly while craning her head towards Scott.

Scott crossed his arms, smiling bitterly as he stared at the woman. “I just don’t see why ye, of all people, are back here. I thought ye were doing well in the village.”

“Well,” the woman huffed, “I’ve got mouths to feed, now don’t I? Just because I was doing well doesn’t mean I’m doing well now.”

Beitris pursed her lips as she watched Scott shark his head. She didn’t know exactly what she was stepping into. This argument seemed like it had been going on well before this woman stepped within their castle walls.

“Scott,” she called, watching as both the woman and Scott jerked to attention. “Is something wrong?”

Scott’s mouth gaped upon, and he glanced between the woman and Beitris, worry glimmering in his gaze mixed with something else. Beitris bit her tongue, knowing if she didn’t, she would have more questions needing answered, and she didn’t think poor Scott needed to be interrogated at a time like this.

“Apologies, my lady,” Scott rushed out. “I was only greeting the new cook.”

The woman narrowed her gaze at him, not impressed with his words. She forced a smile at Beitris and dipped into a curtsy. “Apologies, my lady, I am Alana Clark. Ye may have known of my father.”

Beitris was growing even more intrigued. She smiled while stepping towards the woman, noting her fraying hem and the hole in her brown scarf Alana kept trying to hide. “Ah, yes,” Beitris said while stopping in front of her. “He made my bookshelves. How is he?”

Alana grimaced. “Not well, I’m afraid. He’s taken ill.”

Beitris frowned. “I’m sorry to hear that. Will he get better?”

Alana lowered her gaze and shook her head. “I fear not.”

Beitris turned to Scott, noting the sorrow and worry in his eye as he stared down at Alana. Her gaze lingered on the hand he reached towards her, but it quickly fisted and lowered back to his side as if he was afraid to touch the girl.

Alana cleared her throat, and she forced a smile, which resembled more of a wince than anything. “Anyway, ye have naething to worry about, my lady. My mother used to cook here, and she has taught me well. I will work very hard to earn my wages.”

Beitris nodded. “Of course. We are very happy to-“ Beitris gasped, and she doubled over, nausea hitting her once more. Her legs wobbled underneath her, and she groaned, feeling her vision sway.

“My lady!” Scott shouted, grabbing her hand and holding her up. “Call for Hamish,” Scott ordered the servant at Beitris’s side. “Now!”

Beitris groaned, pressing a hand to her head while she followed Scott into the keep. “Where are we going?” she groaned.

“We need to get ye to bed.”

“Where is Fraser?” Beitris gagged, her hand flying to the wall to steady her.

“Please, my lady, we must move-“

Beitris retched onto the floor. She gasped as another wave hit her, her hands trembling as she clutched her book to her chest. Inhaling deeply, she waited for more bile to rise.

“My lady,” Scott whispered, his shoulders tense and his hand on her gently. “We should get ye to bed.”

Beitris shook her head. “Nae, I don’t think I can move.”

Scott grimaced, his nose wrinkling as a breeze rolled through the window. Beitris gagged as the scent of her bile rose to her senses. She feared she might be sick again.

“What’s this?”

Beitris groaned and turned towards Fraser, stalling towards them. His gaze glanced between the bile on the floor and Beitris leaning against the wall. “Are ye ill?”

Beitris shook her head. “I’m fine.”

Fraser pressed his hands against her cheeks, stroking away her hair sticking to her face. “Yer not well at all.”

“I’ve called for Hamish, my laird,” said Scott while Fraser picked her up and cradled her to his chest. “Shall I send him to yer rooms?”

“At once,” Fraser shouted while stalking down the halls.

Beitris groaned, her head lulling from side to side. “I’m so sorry,” she breathed while clamping her eyes closed. “I don’t know what’s come over me. I was fine this morn.”

Fraser sighed. “Ye have naething to be sorry for. ‘Tis not yer fault ye have fallen in. Let’s just hope there’s something that can be done about it.”

Beitris nodded, her eyes opening in time to watch Fraser shove open his door. He laid her carefully into the bed before tucking the blankets around her. She nuzzled into the pillows while Fraser closed the window and snapped the curtains closed.

“It’s better to have the light and fresh air,” Beitris called.

Fraser shook his head and paced back and forth. “We should wait for Hamish. ‘Tis too cold. Maybe ye caught something from the winds.”

A knock thudded at the door before Beitris could admonish Fraser for not listening to her. Fraser threw open the door, stepping to the side as Hamish strode inside and to her side.

“What is wrong?” Hamish asked while rifling through his jars.

“I do not know,” said Beitris while sitting up in bed. The spinning in her head was gone, and the nausea left her as quickly as it came. “I was fine in the morn, but suddenly the world wouldn’t stop moving. I, unfortunately, retched all over the stone floors.”

Hamish frowned, and his hands moved to her stomach, pressing lightly before stopping. His lips twitched before he leaned close to Beitris whispering, “I know it is forward of me to ask, but have ye been getting the bleeds?”

Beitris’s eyes widened, and she lurched forward. “I-I must have.” She frowned while moving her fingers up and counting in her head. They had been so busy with tending to the western villagers. Then, there was the flood in the East, which needed tending to, followed by a visit with Hendry and Peigi at their estate. She had been flitting back and forth for so long, she had forgotten about her bleeds in the ruckus.

“Oh,” she breathed, turning her attentions to Fraser.

Hamish smiled and nodded knowingly. He stepped towards the door while Fraser shuffled nervously from foot to foot. “What has happened?” Fraser asked worriedly. “Is she well now? Or is there naething to be done?”

“She is quite fine, my laird,” said Hamish while patting Fraser’s shoulder. “I’ll leave her to announce it.”

“Fraser, my love,” Beitris called sweetly while patting the bed. “Come here.”

Fraser frowned as he sat on the edge of the bed and grasped her hand. “What is it, my love?”

Beitris sighed. “Apologies, dear husband. I fear I have worried ye for naething. There is naething wrong with me.”

Fraser sighed in relief, his shoulders relaxing. “Then what could have made ye so ill?”

Beitris giggled and poked his nose. “A child.”

Fraser blinked. “A what?”

She knew he heard her, but she wanted to live in this joy, at the knowledge of knowing they were going to start a family. They were going to start a whole new adventure together. “I’m with child, my love.”

Fraser’s lips parted, growing into a wide smile as he pulled her towards him, wrapping his arms fiercely around her. “That’s such wonderful news,” he laughed. “Wonderful, wonderful news. I must tell Scott. Ye must write yer father.”

Fraser bounded from the bed, running towards the door. “We must have a large celebration!” he shouted, making Beitris giggle. “And a feast. Tonight!” He paused, turning on his heel and running back to her side, kneeling before her and grabbing her hand. “Only if ye wish it, Beitris. Only if yer well enough.”

Beitris giggled as she stared down at her husband, at this loving man who cared so much for her. She never thought she could be this happy, and with a child in their future, she knew they would have happy days for the rest of her life. As she stared at her husband, something caught her attention. The adoration in his gaze as he stared at her, was the same way Scott had looked upon the new cook, Alana. Her smile widened, and she squeezed Fraser’s hand, wondering if there would be many more celebrations at Castle Dunnegan that included the pair.

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