"Aye." Fraser smiled faintly. "I have often wondered about that myself, though I try verra hard nay to."
Ilsa felt herself blush when she realized the woman had guessed the path of her thoughts, then smiled. "Aye, tis one of those sinful things ye ken ye ought to ignore, but cannae stop being curious about."
She set Finlay against her shoulder to rub his back and smiled at Alice as the child sidled up to her chair. She was a pretty child. In truth, all the children were pretty. The nursery was clean, well supplied, and Fraser was a loving attendant. Diarmot could be faulted for his profligacy, but not for accepting the responsibility for the results. The ages of the children told a tale, as well. Three from before his marriage, and, she suspected, two from after he had discovered the truth about Anabelle. None, she was pleased to note again, from the time he was pledged to her. Of course, she mused, he could simply have learned a way to prevent breeding a child.
Finlay belched and the children all giggled. Ilsa smiled at them and knew she would have no trouble caring for them. She had never believed a child should pay for the sins of its parents. It seemed most of the people at Clachthrom believed the same for, at first glance, she could see no sign of unhappiness or fear in the children. She turned to look at Alice when the little girl fleetingly touched her arm.
"Are ye to be our mother?" Alice asked.
"Aye," she replied with no hesitation, touched by the smiles the older children gave her. At only two years of age, she suspected the smiles Ewart and Gregor gave her were more imitation than heartfelt. "I will be your mother now."
"And what is she?" Alice asked, looking at Gay.
"Your aunt."
"She is your sister?"
"Nay by blood, but families can be formed from more than blood ties, lass.
They can be bred in the heart." Ilsa was not really surprised when the older children all looked at Fraser. "Aye, she too could be considered kin of the heart." She smiled when the children immediately dubbed Fraser an aunt for the woman's delight was plain to see.
Young Odo moved to stand in front of her, his blue eyes very similar to Diarmot's. "So, our father has four brothers and a sister and a sister by marriage. That gives us four uncles and five aunts now. Do ye have any sisters and brothers?"
"My only sister is Gay, the sister of my heart." She waited patiently for Odo to press for more, never doubting that he would.
"Oh. No brothers?"
"A few."
"How many?"
"Fourteen." She laughed when he gaped at her, then tried to count that number upon his fingers. "And two more brothers for ye," she added, pointing to Finlay and Cearnach.
"We need more lasses," said Alice, frowning at Odo and her brothers who were cheering the fact that lads far outnumbered lasses in the family.
"I fear we are just going to have to accept being outnumbered, Alice,"
replied Ilsa. "Dinnae worry, lass. I will teach ye and wee Ivy how to make it more a blessing than a curse."
"How can ye do that?" asked Ivy as she moved closer.
"Weel, think on this. If someone is mean to ye, ye have six brothers and eighteen uncles, plus a father ye can call to your side."
Both little girls frowned in thought for a moment, then grinned. Diarmot obviously bred sharp-witted children, Ilsa thought, and Fraser undoubtedly nurtured it. Even more important, the children all appeared willing to accept her as their new mother. She wished their father would be as willing to accept her as his wife.
As the children gathered around her and Gay, asking questions and inspecting their new siblings, Ilsa silently made a vow. For their sake, she would work as hard as she could to make a good marriage with Diarmot. She would not allow whatever troubles there were between her and her angry, mistrustful husband to touch their young lives. These children needed her and she would try to find comfort and strength in that as she struggled to reclaim the man she had fallen in love with.
CHAPTER FOUR
"What are ye doing here?"
Diarmot closed the bedchamber door behind him, leaned against it, and crossed his arms over his chest. The woman who claimed to be his wife stood near the fire dressed in only a thin shift, her bright hair hanging in thick waves past her slender hips. It was an intensely arousing sight, despite the scowl she wore.