The Highlander Series (34 page)

Tears filled her eyes as she rose up, her hair falling over his chest while she stared down at him in wonder.

“Say it again,” she said huskily.

He smiled at hearing his own words tossed back at him.

“I love you.”

“Oh, Ewan,” she whispered.

“Don’t cry, lass. I’d do just about anything to keep you from crying.”

“ ’Tis happy tears.” She sniffed. “You’ve made me so happy, Ewan. You’ve given me a home and family. A clan to call my own. And you stood behind me today when I feared you’d denounce me in front of everyone.”

He frowned and shook his head. “I always stand behind you, wife. I may not always agree with you, and there will be times that I may not make a decision you agree with, but I always stand behind you.”

She hugged him again and pressed her face into his neck. “Oh, I do love you so, Ewan.”

He rolled until they were on their sides facing each other. He touched her face, stroking the wispy tendrils of hair from her cheek. “I’ve waited a long time for you to say those words, lass. And now that I have, I’m never going to grow tired of them.”

She smiled. “ ’Tis a good thing, Laird, for I have this problem with saying the least thing that runs through my mind, and ’tis a fact I’ll be thinking of how much I love you often.”

“Perhaps you should show me,” he said in a husky, aroused voice.

Her mouth dropped open. “Again?”

He smiled and kissed her. “Aye, lass, again.”

Mairin slowly dragged herself out of bed and headed straight for the chamber pot where she vomited what little remained in her belly from the night before.

It was a miserable occurrence and had happened like clockwork every morning for the last fortnight. Only it didn’t end there. She vomited promptly after the morning meal, then again after the noon meal, and usually at least once before bed.

She’d hidden her condition from Ewan for as long as possible, but with all the vomiting and the way she eyed food as if she were being poisoned again, it was inevitable that he found out.

She would tell him today of her suspicions. Not that they were actually suspicions because it seemed obvious to her that she was carrying his child, and God knew, Ewan had put enough effort into the task of impregnating her.

The entire clan would greet the news with joy. With her dowry to be delivered at any time, prosperity would finally visit their keep. A pregnancy and safe delivery of a child would seal the McCabe control of Neamh Álainn.

She fairly danced with excitement over the idea of telling Ewan the news.

After washing out her mouth and getting dressed, Mairin headed below stairs where she was met by Gannon. She raised her eyebrows in surprise when she saw him because since her poisoning, Ewan had made it a point to have either himself or one of his brothers guarding her every moment of every day. It was a fact she was resigned to and had accepted with good grace.

“Good morning, my lady,” Gannon said cheerfully.

“Good morning, Gannon. Tell me, what have you done to anger your laird?”

Gannon blinked and eyed her with confusion. Then he laughed as he realized she was jesting with him over his duty.

“Nothing, my lady, ’tis the truth I volunteered for the chore of looking after you today. The laird and his brothers have gone out to greet the McDonalds.”

Her eyebrows rose again. Any talk of the McDonalds had been dispensed with after her poisoning. Why, she’d even forgotten the matter of an alliance herself. The McDonalds’ departure was not on pleasant terms, so the idea that they had returned made her very curious.

“Where are they?” she asked.

“Unloading the stores of food from the wagon,” Gannon said with a smile.

Mairin clasped her hands in delight. “So they made good on that ridiculous wager?”

Gannon rolled his eyes. “Of course. ’Tis a peace offering, too. The two clans must soothe over any bad feelings if we are to ally ourselves.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful. Surely this will carry us to the winter months.”

Gannon nodded. “And beyond, if the hunt continues to be successful.”

And if her dowry would come, the clan would have warm clothing for the winter. The children would have
shoes. They would eat instead of worrying about where their next meal would come from.

This was very welcome news.

“Where might I find Ewan?” she asked Gannon.

“I’m to escort you to him when you rise.”

She frowned. “Well then, I’ve risen, so let’s go.”

He chuckled and guided her outside to where the McDonald wagons had been driven into the courtyard. Men were unloading the supplies and taking them to the larder.

Ewan was absorbed in conversation with McDonald, and Mairin frowned as she scanned the people littering the courtyard. Then her gaze fell on Rionna and she brightened.

She started to call out and wave when Ewan caught her eye and motioned her over.

He pulled her to his side when she approached. “Laird McDonald wished to give you his regards. They aren’t staying and have only arrived to deliver the supplies. Since we are in agreement over Alaric’s marriage to Rionna, we’ll meet later in the summer to celebrate the arrangement and announce their betrothal.”

Mairin smiled at the laird, who took her hand and bowed.

“I’m relieved that you are back in full health, my lady. I look forward to the time that our clans are united not only by alliance but by marriage bond.”

“As do I,” she said. “Safe journey to you and I look forward to seeing you when you return.”

When one of the men walked by with the gutted carcass of a stag, Mairin’s stomach revolted. Her cheeks puffed out as she sucked air through her nose to keep from vomiting there in front of Ewan and Laird McDonald. There’d already been far too much drama the last time the laird visited, and she had no desire to
start another fracas by losing the contents of her stomach all over his boots.

She hastily made the excuse that she needed to see Gertie so she could supervise the storing of the provisions and bolted before Ewan could remark.

Once inside the keep, she took in long, steadying breaths and then made her way to the kitchens. It wasn’t a complete fabrication. She did want to know Gertie’s plans for the sudden surplus of food, and she also thought it would be a nice surprise to plan a special meal for the occasion.

Predictably, Gertie was grumbling over a large cauldron of stew when Mairin entered the kitchen. Gertie stopped periodically to taste, then she’d groan and add another vegetable.

Gertie looked up and frowned when she saw Mairin. “You’re looking peaked, lass. I saved you a bowl from the morning meal. Are you still feeling poorly every time you eat?”

Touched by her thoughtfulness, Mairin placed a hand on her stomach. “Aye, I’m afraid so. ’Tis the truth, not much seems appetizing to me these days.”

Gertie
tsked
and shook her head. “When are you going to tell the laird that you’re carrying his child?”

“Soon. I wanted to be sure.”

Gertie rolled her eyes. “Lass, no one retches as much as you have for as long as you have if they’re ill. By now they’d either die or get better.”

Mairin smiled and put a hand to her middle. “Aye, ’tis true, still I didn’t want to chance telling the laird something that was false. So much rides on this little one’s shoulders.”

Gertie’s expression softened. “You have a good heart, lass. Our clan has much to be thankful for since you came to us. It almost seems too good to be true.”

Embarrassed by the other woman’s praise, Mairin directed the conversation to the matter at hand.

“I thought to plan a special meal since Laird McDonald made good on his wager. It seems all we’ve eaten of late is rabbit stew. I’m sure the men would love to have fresh venison and vegetables. Surely we could spare a little for celebration without depleting our stores to dangerous levels again.”

Gertie smiled broadly and reached over to pat Mairin on the arm. “I was thinking the same thing myself, lass. I already had in mind to make venison pies, with your permission, of course. With the salt that Laird McDonald provided, we no longer have to spare every grain for preserving. ’Twill make the meal taste delicious.”

“Wonderful! I’ll leave the planning in your capable hands. I’ve promised Crispen that I’d throw skipping stones over the loch with him this afternoon.”

“If you wait but a moment, I’ll give you some bread to take. It will settle your stomach and give you and Crispen a snack for the afternoon.”

Gertie wrapped several small loaves into a cloth sack and handed it to Mairin. “Off with you now, lass. Go and have a good time with Crispen.”

“Thank you,” Mairin said as she turned to go.

Her heart light, and giddy over the idea of telling Ewan of her pregnancy, she went outside to find Crispen.

The sun’s rays shone bright and she turned her face up, seeking more of their warmth. She paused for a moment to watch the McDonalds file across the bridge to the other side of the loch. Her gaze sought Ewan but he was already off on another duty.

She headed around the corner of the keep, searching the shores of the loch for a sign of Crispen. He was standing on a rock outcropping a distance away, his small body outlined in the sun. He stood alone, throwing stones across the surface of the water. He’d watch as
the stone traveled, seemingly mesmerized by the way it progressed across the loch. His laughter rang out so pure and untarnished that Mairin’s heart seized. Was there anything more beautiful than a child’s joy?

She looked to the day when Crispen would lead his brother or sister to the loch to throw stones. The two would laugh and play together. Like a family.

Smiling, she started forward, looking on the ground for appropriate stones as she went. She gathered half a dozen before arriving to where Crispen stood.

“Mama!”

There was no description for the sheer joy that gripped her whenever he called her
mother
.

He ran into her arms and she hugged him close, spilling her rocks in the process.

Laughing, he bent down to help her retrieve them, exclaiming over the perfection of one or two stones as he examined them.

“I want to throw this one,” he said, holding up a particularly flat rock.

“Go on then. I wager you can’t make it skip more than eight times.”

His eyes lit up as she knew they would at the challenge she’d set forth. “I can do nine,” he boasted.

“Oh ho! How you boast. Deeds are much stronger than words. Let me see your prowess firsthand.”

His chin set and concentration knitting his eyebrows, he lined up his shot and then set the rock flying. It struck the water and skipped in rapid succession toward the other bank.

“One! Two! Three!” He paused for breath but his gaze never left the progression of the rock. “Six! Seven … eight … nine!” He turned. “Mama, I did it! Nine times!”

“Surely a record,” she said, acknowledging his feat.

“You try now,” he urged.

“Oh, I can’t hope to best someone as skilled as you.”

He stuck his chest out and he smiled smugly. Then he brightened and took her hand. “I bet you do well … for a woman.”

In response she tussled his hair. “You must stop listening to the ideas of your Uncle Caelen, Crispen. It will not endear you to the ladies in the future.”

He wrinkled his nose and stuck out his tongue, making a gagging noise. “Girls are awful. Except you, Mama.”

She laughed and hugged him to her again. “I’m ever so happy that I’m not considered an awful girl.”

He tucked a perfectly flat, smooth rock into her hand. “Try it.”

“Very well. After all, the honor of all women rests in my hands.”

Crispen giggled at her dramatics as she elaborately lined up her shot. After a few test swings of her arm, she let fly and watched as the rock sailed far, hitting the surface and kicking up water as it bounced.

Beside her Crispen counted under his breath. “Eight! Mama, you did eight! That’s brilliant!”

“Wow, I did it!”

They hugged and she whirled him around until they were both dizzy. They collapsed onto the ground in a fit of giggles, and Mairin tickled Crispen until he begged for mercy.

On the hillside that overlooked the loch, Ewan walked up behind Gannon and Cormac, who stood watch over Mairin and Crispen. He watched as they wrestled on the ground, hearing the joyous sound of their laughter ring out over the land. He smiled and pondered how fortunate he was. He had gained so much in such a short time. No matter that multiple threats shadowed their
existence. He took moments like these and held them close.

Love was very precious indeed.

Ewan trudged wearily up the stairs and let himself quietly into his chamber. Some of the fatigue dissipated and the strain he’d been under lifted away as he gazed upon his sleeping wife.

She was sprawled indelicately, facedown, her arms spread out over the bed. She slept just like she did everything else. Full out. No reservations.

He stripped out of his clothing and climbed into bed with her. She snuggled into his arms without ever opening her eyes. She was exhausted often these days, a fact that hadn’t gone unnoticed by him. Neither had all the retching the poor lass had done over the last few weeks.