tell
what he knew of her condition. He didn't ask himself how the man
could know something about Deliah his psychic ability couldn't even
glean. Nothing mattered but finding out what was wrong with
her.
"Weel," Lachlan said
loftily, his black eyes lit with merriment, "it seems Baird House
will be blessed wi' its verra first uirisg, which makes me wonder if the
magic isna all from our Deliah, here." He paused to further build
the suspense, knowing damn well what he was doing was a form of
torture. But his news was too grand to simply blurt out.
Deliah's gaze cut to him.
She looked more beautiful than he'd ever seen her. Radiant. Glowing
with such happiness that its warmth seeped into his body. He
somehow knew she was now aware of her condition.
"Lannie!" Roan practically
shouted.
"Tis for Deliah to
announce," Lachlan said, nodding at her.
Her brilliant blue eyes
searched Roan's strained features then Winston's. "A uirisg be the offspring o'
a mortal and a fairie."
Roan blinked repeatedly in
confusion. Winston stared blankly into her face, his black eyebrows
drawn down but not in a frown or a scowl.
"O' course, a uirisg be but legend and
myth," she went on, her tone airy, playful. "So I be no' sure wha'
to call wha' I be carryin’ inside me. I think mayhaps
a... baby."
The word hung in the air as
silence encompassed the room for a time. Then Winston slid off the
sofa and plopped hard on his butt on the floor, his gaze never
leaving Deliah's face. Roan sat back on the settee, astonishment
youthening his face. He could do no more than stare at Deliah, his
mouth agape, his heart pounding wildly behind his chest.
Winston's heartbeat was
also hammering away, seemingly in his throat, cutting off his
oxygen.
"Are ye no' pleased?" she
asked him, a hint of nervousness in her tone.
"Baby?" he whispered. "How?
When? Tonight—I mean, yesterday?" His face brightened. "Two weeks
ago, when we first made love! You're experiencing morning
sickness!"
"Tis no' only in the morn,"
she sighed. "But, aye. When first ye and I joined, we created a
life. I dinna know why nature has granted me this, Winston, but I
be verra happy abou' it. Are ye?"
Unsteady, he rose to his
feet. She, too, stood with Lachlan's help, clutching the blanket
about her, her round eyes searching Winston's face for an
indication of his acceptance of becoming a father.
"Winston, are ye?" she
asked again, a tremor in her tone.
In response, he pulled her
into his arms and kissed her. A moment later, gripping her upper
arms to steady her, he looked into her eyes like a man unable to
express the depths of his own happiness.
"Aye," he rasped. He
nodded. "Aye! But I thought fairies couldn't have babies. Deliah,
can you give birth wi’ou' damaging yourself?"
"Aye, I can," she said
breathlessly, smiling. "The knowin’ be strong, I swear. We're goin’
to have a son, Winston. A prince born atween our worlds. A link
atween the kingdoms o' all fairies and all mortals."
Lachlan stood, frowning
thoughtfully. "Deliah, wha' do you mean by the knowin’?"
She looked over her
shoulder at him. "The knowin’ o' past, present and future. It be
stronger in you than in Winston and me. Twas no' ma own knowin’
wha' discovered ma baby. Twas you passin’ it through to me,
Lachlan."
"Damn me," Roan muttered,
still befuddled by the news of Deliah's pregnancy.
"No, Roan," she beamed. "We
be none damned but blessed. Twas no magic o' mine wha' gave us this
child, Winston. It be somethin’ I dinna understand, but be so verra
grateful to."
"Why couldn't I sense our
son?" Winston asked.
"Mayhaps because I told you
I couldna bear children," she replied, and kissed him lightly on
the mouth.
He shrugged. "Could be." He
released a breath. "A son." Sitting on the sofa, he coaxed her to
sit next to him. His left arm went about her shoulders and he
pulled her close. He grinned up at Roan and Lachlan, a grin that
held an element of uncertainty. Although he was excited at the
prospect of
what he knew of her condition. He didn't ask himself how the man
could know something about Deliah his psychic ability couldn't even
glean. Nothing mattered but finding out what was wrong with
her.
"Weel," Lachlan said
loftily, his black eyes lit with merriment, "it seems Baird House
will be blessed wi' its verra first uirisg, which makes me wonder if the
magic isna all from our Deliah, here." He paused to further build
the suspense, knowing damn well what he was doing was a form of
torture. But his news was too grand to simply blurt out.
Deliah's gaze cut to him.
She looked more beautiful than he'd ever seen her. Radiant. Glowing
with such happiness that its warmth seeped into his body. He
somehow knew she was now aware of her condition.
"Lannie!" Roan practically
shouted.
"Tis for Deliah to
announce," Lachlan said, nodding at her.
Her brilliant blue eyes
searched Roan's strained features then Winston's. "A uirisg be the offspring o'
a mortal and a fairie."
Roan blinked repeatedly in
confusion. Winston stared blankly into her face, his black eyebrows
drawn down but not in a frown or a scowl.
"O' course, a uirisg be but legend and
myth," she went on, her tone airy, playful. "So I be no' sure wha'
to call wha' I be carryin’ inside me. I think mayhaps
a... baby."
The word hung in the air as
silence encompassed the room for a time. Then Winston slid off the
sofa and plopped hard on his butt on the floor, his gaze never
leaving Deliah's face. Roan sat back on the settee, astonishment
youthening his face. He could do no more than stare at Deliah, his
mouth agape, his heart pounding wildly behind his chest.
Winston's heartbeat was
also hammering away, seemingly in his throat, cutting off his
oxygen.
"Are ye no' pleased?" she
asked him, a hint of nervousness in her tone.
"Baby?" he whispered. "How?
When? Tonight—I mean, yesterday?" His face brightened. "Two weeks
ago, when we first made love! You're experiencing morning
sickness!"
"Tis no' only in the morn,"
she sighed. "But, aye. When first ye and I joined, we created a
life. I dinna know why nature has granted me this, Winston, but I
be verra happy abou' it. Are ye?"
Unsteady, he rose to his
feet. She, too, stood with Lachlan's help, clutching the blanket
about her, her round eyes searching Winston's face for an
indication of his acceptance of becoming a father.
"Winston, are ye?" she
asked again, a tremor in her tone.
In response, he pulled her
into his arms and kissed her. A moment later, gripping her upper
arms to steady her, he looked into her eyes like a man unable to
express the depths of his own happiness.
"Aye," he rasped. He
nodded. "Aye! But I thought fairies couldn't have babies. Deliah,
can you give birth wi’ou' damaging yourself?"
"Aye, I can," she said
breathlessly, smiling. "The knowin’ be strong, I swear. We're goin’
to have a son, Winston. A prince born atween our worlds. A link
atween the kingdoms o' all fairies and all mortals."
Lachlan stood, frowning
thoughtfully. "Deliah, wha' do you mean by the knowin’?"
She looked over her
shoulder at him. "The knowin’ o' past, present and future. It be
stronger in you than in Winston and me. Twas no' ma own knowin’
wha' discovered ma baby. Twas you passin’ it through to me,
Lachlan."
"Damn me," Roan muttered,
still befuddled by the news of Deliah's pregnancy.
"No, Roan," she beamed. "We
be none damned but blessed. Twas no magic o' mine wha' gave us this
child, Winston. It be somethin’ I dinna understand, but be so verra
grateful to."
"Why couldn't I sense our
son?" Winston asked.
"Mayhaps because I told you
I couldna bear children," she replied, and kissed him lightly on
the mouth.
He shrugged. "Could be." He
released a breath. "A son." Sitting on the sofa, he coaxed her to
sit next to him. His left arm went about her shoulders and he
pulled her close. He grinned up at Roan and Lachlan, a grin that
held an element of uncertainty. Although he was excited at the
prospect of
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