Whence Came a Prince Read Online Free PDF

wisps of hair round her face. All was still, save for the low murmur of moving water behind her. A deep burn full of brown trout flowed through the center of Twyneholm, passing her aunt’s cottage before it slipped beneath a stone bridge.
    Leana felt every bit of loose gravel beneath her calfskin shoes, the soles thin from constant wearing. She had left most of her possessions behind at Auchengray, bringing only a small trunk of necessities and two gowns—the simple green one she was wearing and her favorite, the embroidered claret gown she’d worn on her wedding day. ’Twas just as well she’d packed sparingly; the tiny cottage could hold no more.
    Twyneholm had cracked its doors a handbreadth to welcome her, but nothing eased the pain of missing Ian. From the hour of his birth, the lad’s gaze had shone with the promise of a clever mind. Would Jamie engage a teacher to reside at Glentrool and tutor him? Leana’s thoughts flew across Galloway and her hopes as well.
I would come, Jamie. I would teach our son.
    Her conscience mocked her.
Teach him what?
Reading and writing? Simple bookkeeping? She had no mastery of Latin or Greek, no training in logic or rhetoric. Jamie went to university, not she. Even Rose inher short time at Carlyle School for Young Ladies had learned a smattering of French. Leana could confidently handle a busy household and tally its ledgers; she could love a husband and raise his children. None of those skills was required of her now.
    Distraught, she started up the hill leading to the crossroads. A sudden clenching in her stomach sent her scurrying back to the burn instead. Bending over the steep banks, she deposited her breakfast in its rushing waters, taking care not to tumble in after it.
    “Heavens!” Leana straightened, shaking all over. Whatever was the matter? She’d seen what ague could do. And croup. And pneumonia. Best she remain withindoors, at least until her stomach settled. A weak saucer of tea and another hour’s sleep might help.
    Her aunt greeted her when she came through the door, a look of concern stretched across her parchment-thin skin. “Back so soon? Come sit by the hearth. You’ll be wanting tea with a spoonful of honey from my hives, aye?”
    Leana merely nodded, her insides still churning.
    Meg pulled a chair close to her and patted her hand. “Might it be your courses starting? Many a lass feels unweel on the first day.”
    Leana sipped her tea and mulled over the last two months, a jumble of days that all ran together, colorless and undefined. When
were
her courses due? They’d waxed and waned without any certain pattern after Ian’s birth. Since Jamie was no longer her husband, such things hardly mattered, did they? Still, to appease her aunt, Leana began counting silently on her fingers.
    Was it two weeks ago or three? Perhaps four. Six weeks, then. Nae, ten.
    Leana’s eyes widened. “ ’Tis not my courses.”
    ’Tis a child.
    Unthinkable. Yet undeniable. The weariness, the nausea, the tenderness.
Yestermorn
she’d cringed when she laced her bodice. Leana had dismissed such symptoms, convinced that weaning Ian had taken its toll on her body, nothing more.
    Nae. Much more.
    She swallowed hard.
Oh, my dear Jamie!
Memories of their lastnights together assailed her. Before they met with the kirk session. Before the terrible truth was spoken. Before her world fell apart.
    Aunt Meg smiled at her, eyes wreathed with tiny lines, her gaze alight with curiosity. “ ’Twould appear something has stolen your appetite and your tongue as well. Will you not speak, or must I guess?”
    Leana put down her tea saucer with trembling hands, her emotions scattered to the four winds. However could she tell her maiden aunt, a
stayed lass
who had ne’er shared a man’s bed, that she was carrying Jamie McKie’s child?
    She slipped her hand beneath the table’s edge to examine her waist. Though she’d lost weight, she sensed a slight rounding there. Why had she not