A Laird to Hold Angeline Fortin (most important books of all time .TXT) 📖

Nothing would prevent him from the latter. Regarding the former, however, he’d chosen to keep his hands—and curiosity—to himself. While he might be able to ignore what he saw, blocking out the sounds was much harder. This new world was incessantly loud. Constantly abuzz with the sounds of the machines, talking of persons in the hallways, and the roar of whatever lay outside their windows. What was beyond, he wasn’t certain he wanted to know. Their brief experience outside the hospital doors soured his interest.

He longed for home without even a full day having passed. For the comfort of his hall, the familiar clatter of his family and household to soothe his ears.

But Scarlett was correct. They could not leave this place without their wee bairn. Or without the presence of the enigmatic Donell. Wherever the old man had hied himself off to, he best return soon or suffer Laird’s wrath.

“How long will the doctors require the bairn to stay in this box?” he inquired of Emmy.

“Not too long,” she told him. “She was far enough along not to require any breathing tubes, so that’s a blessing. She has a little jaundice but that’s not unusual. So once that clears up and she’s able to maintain body heat and eat without assistance, they’ll let her go. Maybe a few weeks or so.”

Weeks more seemed far too long to Laird. What was he to do in this time and place for weeks more? He was a nobleman, an administrator of his estate, and a courtier with duties to the infant king. He wasn’t used to idle time or idle hands.

He had a castle to build.

By God, but the view of Dunskirk when the shuttle had hauled them away had been an inspiring one. Scarlett had tried to describe what the castle would one day become, to draw out their plans, but to see the changes, what it would become, with his own eyes had left him awestruck. What a legacy he would leave behind.

If they were to ever return home, that was.

Emmy

There was a spirit of lightness and gratitude in the small hospital room. Undeniable, but as the primary reason for their travels had been accomplished to their highest expectations, Emmy couldn’t help but think about the ramifications of their journey and what awaited them.

Even the thought of playing doctor with her sexy husband in his scrubs couldn’t banish the apocalyptic scenarios chasing one another through her mind. Gathering up her long hair, she twisted the length and wrapped it into a bun at the nape of her neck before letting it fall loose. Then repeated the process. A nervous habit she hadn’t succumbed to since her residency.

“Listen, I hate to be the voice of negativity…”

“Nay, ye dinnae.”

Emmy cast her husband a wry look but stopped short of a full eye roll. “In this case, I do.”

Connor’s gorgeous dimples winked at her, teasing a jolt of lust from deep within. Ugh, they were supposed to still be on their honeymoon! Instead of beds and lovemaking, all she could think about was everything that could go wrong.

“What is it?” Scarlett asked, barely away from the little miracle she’d born.

Who could blame her? The baby was a miracle and tugged at Emmy’s heartstrings and maternal instinct. Knowing children awaited her, but not having the forethought to ask when was maddening. But her foray into motherhood wasn’t the issue weighing most heavily at the moment.

“We’re here and of course Donell is nowhere to be found. So, assuming we’re stuck here for the time being…” God, she prayed it was only for the time being.

Scarlett looked over the incubator at her husband who cradled their sleeping toddler in his arms. Her expression was troubled.

Rhys leapt up on the bed, crossing his legs at the ankle and his arms behind his head. “Keep trust. Keep faith. That’s the Hepburn motto. We’ll make it home soon enough.”

Laird nodded but without his brother’s humor. “Aye, our family motto should be shared by us all forthwith. Faith we will make it home. All of us.”

“I’m sure we will,” Emmy agreed, though sure was a pretty strong word. Prayed was more accurate. “But what do we do in the meantime?” she pressed. “I mean, look at us. A set of scrubs is all well and good. We’re not getting stared at anymore, but this is literally all we have. No money, no place to stay.”

“Could we no’ continue staying here?” Rhys asked.

Emmy’s brows rose. “Would you want to? This room may be the best they’ve got but is too cramped for all of us. Even if we could stay. I think we can all attest to that after sleeping on cots last night.”

They’d overcrowded the room and one another, but where else were they to go? Reporters still crawled the hospital, looking for an in. A chance to get at Scarlett.

Shaking her head, Emmy continued, “They’re being lax in the rules here probably because y’all scare them to death, but we’ll have to go sooner or later.”

Rhys nodded his agreement. “Aye, I’ve explored these halls to my heart’s content already. My legs could use a satisfying stretch and my belly more hearty fare than the…what did ye call it? Cafeteria? What they serve here.”

Laird and Connor both agreed wholeheartedly. Big men with healthy appetites. They were probably starving for meat and ale. And fresh air, too, as Rhys said. Neither Laird nor Rhys seemed the type to spend time indoors. Connor certainly wasn’t. “So how are we going to manage?”

“I doubt I’ve coin enough in my purse to suffice. And we’ve already seen it wouldnae be accepted anyway. Mayhap we could sell it, as it might be considered antique at