Midnight Honor

several days' worth of reddish blond stubble on his cheeks, and his eyes had more veins than a wall of ivy.
    She tried to moisten her lips, but there wasn't enough spit to do it. A moment later there was a cool, wet cloth pressed over her mouth and she gratefully let the liquid trickle down her tongue and throat.
    “Dinna try to speak yet, lass. Drena has gone to fetch the doctor.”
    Anne glared as best she could with her head spinning and her temples pounding. “Why,” she rasped, “did you hit me?”
    “Hit ye? I didna hit ye, lass. Ye let out a cry like someone cleaved ye in half, then the next I knew ye were bent over double an' not a wit left to tell us what was wrong. Then when I saw all the blood …” He offered up the kind of helpless shrug with which most men excused themselves when delicate subjects were broached. “I carried ye inside an' ye've been here ever since, not movin' so much as an eyelash.”
    “Ever since?”
    “Four days.” He frowned and thought about it a moment. “Aye. Four days.”
    “During which time Mr. MacGillivray has not moved from the side of your bed,” said Deirdre MacKail. She was standing behind John, all but blocked out by his massive shoulders, and Anne realized it had been her voice she'd heard trying to comfort the weeping Drena.
    “A-am I dying?”
    “Not so long as I have aught to say about it, ye're not,” MacGillivray growled. “So put that thought right out o' yer mind.”
    “Wh-what happened?”
    He hesitated, and Anne saw him exchange a glance with the Irish girl. “Perhaps ye should wait for the doctor. He is just along the way in Lady Catherine's room—”
    “Please, John. Tell me what happened.”
    He took one of her hands into his and rubbed his thumb gently across the palm. “Ye lost yer babe, lass,” he said quietly. “Ye miscarried.”
    “Miscarried?
But I wasn't even …”
    “Aye, ye were. About two months gone, near as the doctor could figure it.”
    Anne felt the blood rush out of her head. Two months pregnant? She had been two months pregnant?
    Two months ago she had been riding about the countryside gaining signatures for the petition to give her command of the clan. She had ridden to Aberdeen in dreadful damp weather, then to Falkirk …
    Falkirk, dear God. She had ridden out onto the battlefield like an avenging Valkyrie, never knowing, never guessing. And afterward, the frigid ride back across the mountains …
    How, indeed, could a tiny babe be expected to survive all that?
    She turned her head to the side and stared unseeing into the shadows beside the bed. She was in Angus's bed, in Angus's room, and the smell of sandalwood was suddenly, inescapably cloying. She gasped and tried to choke back the tears, the shame, the guilt, for a combination of all three was rising in her throat, swelling her chest, causing her to clench her fists so tightly John clamped his teeth together as her nails cut into his flesh.
    “I will see what's keeping the doctor,” Deirdre murmured, touching his shoulder. “When he comes, you should leave for a little while and let him tend to her.”
    “No,” Anne cried. “No, please don't leave me, John. Please don't go.”
    Stricken, tear-filled eyes sought his, and she tried, weakly, to reach out her arms. MacGillivray took the burden willingly upon himself, bending over and gathering her gently against his chest. He whispered her name and buried his lips in her throat, in her hair, in the sweet drenching scent of her; he held on so tightly his heart was pounding in his ears. “I willna go anywhere lass, I swear it. I'll stay right here by yer side as long as ye need me.”
    “Angus,” she cried, her voice broken by sobs. “Oh, Angus, I'm so sorry.”
    MacGillivray opened his eyes … then slowly closed them again, squeezing hard enough to stop all but the smallest hint of a watery shine from escaping between his lashes. He held her and stroked his hand down the red tangle of her hair, gently rocking and soothing her until her sobs trembled away to heartbreaking whimpers. By then the doctor was standing by the bed, and John relinquished her grudgingly into his care.
    “It's all right, lass,” he whispered, pressing his lips over her ear. “Everything will be all right, I'll make sure of it. Here's the doctor now. Let him help ye with the pain. He'll give ye something to help ye sleep again, an' when ye waken, it will be that much better. I swear it will, on ma name an' on ma