The Border Lord's Bride by Bertrice Small

the laird of Duffdour would not sanction his daughter‘s marriage to the son of a lowly cotter. Her friend had been married to his cousin, a match that had long ago been approved by the laird. And her father had decided the dower he had for his daughter was too small to bring her a good husband. So Maggie Armstrong had been sent to St. Mary‘s to become a nun. She had accepted her father‘s decision, as Ellen had accepted her grandfather‘s decision. But she had been resentful of it, even though she realized that without a husband she had no place in the world.
    Now she saw a young lass in a similar position. And Ellen was a girl who should have a husband and family. Maggie had discovered over the years that she was not. She was too independent a female. She had worked her way into her convent‘s hierarchy and now stood in line to become the mother superior one day. Maggie knew when to yield a point. But she loved making things right, and she was going to make this come out right for her brother and for Ellen MacArthur.
    She watched them ride out the next day, a smile of satisfaction upon her face.
    "Ye‘re a sly boots," she heard Peigi say as she turned back to the keep.
    "Do you disagree?" she coolly asked the old servant.
    "Nay," Peigi replied shortly, and she cackled. "You would hae yer brother safe wi‘ a good wife, and I would have my mistress safe wi‘ a good man."

    Unaware of the plotting about them, Duncan and Ellen rode some distance with the men at arms until they reached the far cottage they sought. The clansman, coming from the cottage, greeted them. His wife, he told Ellen, thought the child inside her too active, and was frightened. Ellen dismounted and entered the cottage.
    "Here I am, Annie, with the tonic I promised you," she said cheerfully. "Laren tells me the bairn is stretching his wee legs." Ellen plunked herself down on the bench by the fire, smiling at the young woman. "Come, lass, and sit with me. Tell me what troubles you, and I will see if I can help you. But first get a spoon, and take a sip of my tonic."
    Annie did as she was bidden. "It tastes of peppermint, my lady," she said.
    "It will strengthen you for the birth in a few months," Ellen told her. "The king‘s own aunt gave me the recipe, Annie. Now speak with me."
    "The child is so active, my lady, I fear he will come before it is time," the girl said. "And I am all alone here out on the moor. What if the English come raiding?"
    "Is yer mam in the village?" Ellen asked her.
    "Aye, she is," Annie said.
    "That the child moves strongly tells you that he is a healthy bairn, and will live. I am told that as your time draws near the bairn will rest in preparation for his birth. You are fine, lass, but I think Laren should take you home to your mother until the bairn is born, and I will tell him so. And I will speak with your mother. It is better you be in the village near the midwife, your mam, and your female relations. Your fears will subside with the other women about you to comfort you.
    As for the English, the laird tells me they will probably not raid once the snows come. Another reason for you to go quickly."
    The laird and the clansman entered the cottage now, and Ellen told them that Annie would be safer and more comfortable with her mother at this time. It was agreed that her husband would take her this same day.
    "But I must return here to protect what is ours," Laren said. "I must keep the signal fire prepared should the English come raiding. ‘Tis my duty."
    "Good man!" the laird approved.
    Ellen bade her patient farewell, and they rode back toward the keep. "He is a loyal man, Laren,"
    she said as they traveled.
    "But you did the right thing with the wife. I could tell she was frightened," the laird noted.
    "Her fears of the English won‘t subside. They may grow worse once she births her child," Ellen said. "She is one of those lasses who is just naturally fearful. Would it be possible to put a man without a wife out on the