I crossed my arms, unmoved by her plea.
Her eyes widened in entreaty. “Please, Kiera. I think it will settle my stomach.”
I shook my head.
She scowled. “Kiera. Give it to me.”
“If you want it so bad, get it yourself.”
“Fine,” she snapped, pushing herself upright. Almost immediately her already pale face bleached of all color. She groaned and sank back against the cushions.
Despite my annoyance, I was not without compassion or concern for her. I sat forward to take hold of her hand, offering her what comfort I could while she struggled to hold down the small amount of water she had managed to sip since the last time she’d lost the battle with her stomach.
When the worst passed and a faint tinge of pink returned to her complexion, she opened her eyes to look up at me. “I’m fine,” she murmured, squeezing my palm weakly.
“Do you want a sip of water?”
She shook her head and swallowed. “Not just yet.”
I reached up to brush a stray curl of chestnut hair away from her brow, fighting to keep the worry I felt from showing on my face. Either I didn’t do a very good job or my sister simply knew me too well.
“I’ll be fine once we reach Edinburgh.”
“I know,” I replied with a tight smile. I pulled the curtain over the window aside. Dense forest met my view. “I just wish we would get there already.” I glanced back at my sister, whose cheekbones had noticeably thinned in the past two months of her confinement. “We made this move in hopes of improving your health, not diminishing it.”
Her hand squeezed mine again, stronger this time. “Edinburgh is home to the best medical minds in the world, is it not?”
I nodded.
“Then I wish you and Philip would stop questioning your decision to take me there. You believe our physician at Gairloch is a quack, and there is not another medical man or midwife for miles around. If I’m going to deliver this child safely, you had no choice but to take me to Edinburgh.”
A lump formed in my throat at hearing her state the matter so bluntly. After the complications she had faced during her third child’s birth less than a year and a half earlier, she had been warned of the difficulty she might face in delivering any more children. Alana and Philip had taken the physician’s counsel seriously, but, despite their precautions, Alana once again found herself heavy with child. I couldn’t say that I was surprised. My sister and her husband had a very loving and affectionate marriage, and the natural result of such a relationship was children, whether planned for or not.
Upon learning of Alana’s delicate state, Philip and I considered the available options for her care. We agreed that Gairloch Castle, located in the wilds of the western Highlands, was not the ideal place for such a potentially difficult confinement, especially as winter set in, closing off the roads to the outside. By our calculations, the child was not due until mid-April, but winter was long and hard in the Highlands, and it was not uncommon for the roads to remain impassible long into spring. Neither of us wanted to take any chances with Alana or the child’s health, so it became apparent we needed to travel somewhere with better access to medical care. Edinburgh was the natural choice.
The fact that someone I very much wanted to see might also be in Edinburgh had not factored into the decision, though it had not been far from my thoughts.
So, before the chill of winter could settle over the land, Philip, Alana, their children, and I set out for Edinburgh. As the Earl of Cromarty, Philip already owned a town house on Charlotte Square in the Georgian New Town. Much of his household had been transferred to the city ahead of us, along with a large portion of our luggage. Only the personal servants and the nanny lagged behind, the latter of whom was to ride with the children in the carriage that followed ours. Malcolm and Philipa had begun the trip in our carriage, but Alana’s illness had swiftly necessitated their removal to the second coach, where they had joined their baby sister Greer, already in the nanny’s care.
I released Alana’s hand and sank back against the squabs with a weary sigh. “If we ever arrive.” I felt my sister’s eyes on me as I reached up to peer outside the curtains once again at the autumn forest. I braced myself to refuse yet another one of her pleas for bread, but the careful tone of her voice alerted me there was something far more perilous on her mind.