Keeley grabbed the startled Mairin and then turned to scowl at the laird. “Come in or go out, but shut the door and keep your voice down. The babe is sleeping.”

Ewan didn’t look happy to be ordered about, but he complied with Keeley’s order and then returned to stand a few feet away from Mairin, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Oh, do quit standing there frowning,” Keeley said in exasperation. “Help her to the chair by the fire. She’d like to feed your daughter in comfort.”

“She should be abed resting,” Ewan said gruffly.

But he gathered Mairin gently to his side and eased her into the chair a short distance away. Keeley fussed around making sure Mairin was adequately covered, and then she went to fetch the baby and settled her into Mairin’s arms.

“Do stop frowning, husband,” Mairin said, echoing Keeley’s order. “I’m perfectly fit. If I had to spend one more day in that bed, I was going to go mad.”

“I just worry for you,” he said. “I want you and Isabel to be hale and hearty.”

Mairin smiled and patted Ewan’s arm. “We are both perfectly well.”

Ewan sat on the edge of the bed and watched as Mairin nursed Isabel. His expression was slightly awed and his eyes glowed with love. ’Twas a heart-squeezing sight to behold.

“You nearly made me forget what I came up to tell you,” Ewan reproached. “Seeing you out of bed made me lose my purpose.”

Mairin grinned. “ ’Tis not often you lose your purpose, husband.”

He shot her a quelling stare. “The king arrives in two days’ time. My messenger intercepted him with the news of Isabel’s birth. He is most pleased to celebrate Alaric’s wedding and the sealing of our alliance as well as to bestow the legacy of Neamh Álainn on our daughter.”

Keeley froze but continued the task of collecting Mairin’s soiled linens.

“I can’t still be abed when the king arrives,” Mairin wailed.

“You’ll not overtax yourself,” Ewan said sternly.

“I’ll not miss Alaric’s wedding. I don’t care if you must carry me belowstairs. ’Tis ridiculous that I’ve been stuck in this bed for so many days.”

“You should have no difficulty going belowstairs for a short time, provided you rest in the meantime,” Keeley interjected.

Ewan shot Mairin a smug look. Mairin turned to glare at Keeley. “Traitor,” she whispered.

A knock sounded at the chamber door and Ewan rose with a frown. When he opened it, Rionna McDonald stood in the hallway. Keeley stiffened and looked away, though it was stupid. It wasn’t as if Rionna couldn’t see her.

“Your pardon, Laird McCabe,” Rionna said formally. “I’d hoped to see Lady McCabe and her babe, if they are up to having visitors.”

Mairin shot Ewan a helpless look and then glanced sideways at Keeley in apology.