Escaping the War (Sequel to Pardoned on the Peak)

Six

The Morn after receiving the belated news of her sister’s passing, Geneva woke still feeling down, but more refreshed than she’d have expected. It still hurt to know that her baby sister’d already passed into the Afterlife, and that they hadn’t spent nearly as much Time together as she’d have liked between their weddings and her passing. What mattered was that said sister wasn’t suffering anymore and hadn’t been in a long Time–with any Luck, she was already long since at Peace, and wouldn’t wanna see her mourning her for too long.

        As she pushed herself upright so she could toss her covers off herself, she saw Róisín slumped in one of the chairs that normally sat in front of her hearth. Her sister wife’d clearly slept as closeta her as she could without sharing a bed, and that realization actually made a slight smile curve her lips as she tossed the coverlet off her legs. But right behind it followed the realization that if she’d been asleep all this Time and the other woman’d essentially held vigil over her, her infant daughter’d gone unattended.

        Rushing into the nursery wearing nothing but her Night rail, the brunette lass was immediately seeking Druella with her eyes before she ever stepped through the door. Finding the cage-like bed that’d been around since Ciara and Conan were born completely empty made her breath come faster, Fear suddenly taking up residence within her breast. Part of her thought that her baby daughter’d been stolen from them in the middle of the Night, and she completely missed the Sound of soft footsteps coming up the stairs as a result. However, she wasn’t able to ignore that particular fact as the nursery door opened behind her moments later, causing her to whip around at the same Time a Breeze stirred through the room.

        “My apologies, Lady Geneva.” Lord John bowed as gallantly as he could with an armful of infant, who giggled as she was momentarily flipped upside-down. “I didn’t mean to startle you this Morn.”

        “Druella!” Geneva couldn’t help the relief as she veritably snatched her younger daughter from him and hugged her tightly to her breast.

        “She’s perfectly well,” the blonde man assured her. “Well, aside from needing a fresh clout, that is–Jamie’s already ensured she was fed.”

        “Aye, ’cuz mo nighean liath-shùileach canna be allowed to have an empty wame at any Time of Day.”

        Looking up from where she’d buried her face against the baby’s head, she couldn’t help a smile as she saw her shared husband in the doorway with Niamh snuggled against his chest. “You actually–in front of John?”

        “Weel, how else would I feed an infant who’s no quite auld enough fer solid food–at least, on a constant basis?” Jamie chuckled, leaning down to give her a kiss.

        “I suppose that’s true enough,” the brunette lass agreed once they parted.

        “Give her back to John so ye can go dress, mo nighean donn,” he told her. “Even and he canna fully change a clout, he can at least keep her from falling off the table we useta change them.”

        “I should hope I can,” Lord John chuckled, gladly taking the infant back.

        Nodding her agreement, her cheeks flaming as she truly realized the state of undress he’d seen her in, Geneva didn’t try to argue with either of them.

        “Dinna fash yerself,” the ginger man murmured in her ear. “Take whatever Time ye need–I ken ’tis a rough Time fer ye, and the bairns’re in perfectly capable hands.”

        “I think I’ma indulge in a bath whilst I can, then,” she told him. “Even with this new cabin built the way it is, I don’t seem to get the chanceta do such a thing oft enough.”