The Highlander Series (41 page)

“I … I vomited on him the first time he tried. I blamed it on my pregnancy, but it was God’s truth the idea of him bedding me made me ill. Afterward he seemed afraid I’d repeat the insult so he stayed away from me.”

Ewan’s relief was so great that it made him light-headed. He gathered her in his arms and held on, just absorbing the feel of her in his grasp after so many weeks. And then he chuckled, the image of her retching all over Cameron amusing him to no end.

She looked up at him, her eyes shining so brightly that he lost himself in the deep pools. The light dimmed for a moment and she frowned.

“Ewan, what about the dowry? Is it lost to us forever?”

Ewan sighed. “It was awarded to Cameron. I’ve no doubt that he’ll receive it whether you’re in residence or not. Archibald, and possibly the king himself, is in league with Cameron.”

Tears filled her eyes and she hung her head. “Everything you married me for hasn’t come to pass. Our clan needs food and clothing. Our soldiers need supplies. We have need of repairs. How are we going to survive, Ewan?”

He caught her face between his hands and stared down into her eyes. “You are everything to me, Mairin. I can go without food. The keep can crumble. But I can’t live without you. We’ll make it. We’ve always made it. Somehow we’ll see it through. But I cannot live my life without you. If the dowry never comes to pass. If we never claim Neamh Álainn. As long as I have you, lass. As long as I have you.”

She threw herself around him and hugged him until he couldn’t breathe. Her body shook as tears slipped down his neck. He didn’t chide her, though, because it was God’s truth he wanted to cry himself.

“I love you, Ewan. Thank God you came for me.”

He pressed his forehead to hers as their lips danced ever closer to each other. “I’d battle the fires of hell to bring you home, lass. Now let’s ride on. Our son misses his mother and our clan misses their mistress.”

The entire clan was assembled in the courtyard when Ewan rode across the bridge, Mairin held solidly before him in the saddle.

Her head rested against his chest and her hair streamed down her back, the ends lifting in the slight breeze.

His clansmen all leaned forward, and their need to see that their mistress was well was visible on each of their faces.

Ewan came to a halt and pulled back the blanket that shielded Mairin from view. The courtyard erupted in a chorus of cheers.

Mairin straightened in his hold and smiled back at her clan. Tears shone in her eyes and she offered a reassuring wave.

“Mama! Mama!”

Crispen bolted through the crowd and ran straight for Ewan’s horse. Ewan smiled down at his son.

“Stay right there, lad. I’ll hand your mother down.”

Crispen’s and Mairin’s smiles lit up the entire courtyard. Something inside of Ewan shifted and clenched until his chest ached. With love.

Alaric and Caelen came forward and Ewan handed Mairin down to them while he dismounted. As he’d expected, she threw her arms first around Alaric and squeezed until he laughingly begged for mercy. Then she let him go and turned to Caelen, who already had his hands up to ward her off. Paying him no mind, she launched herself at him and he had no choice but to catch her so she didn’t fall. She hugged him fiercely, babbling her thanks all the while.

“You daft woman,” Caelen muttered. “Did you honestly think we’d leave you to that pig?” He tweaked her chin and she beamed up at him before hugging him all over again.

Caelen groaned and turned her around in her husband’s direction. Ewan was only too happy to gather her in his arms and swing her around.

“Put her down, Papa! I want to hug Mama.”

Chuckling, Ewan set her on her feet and Crispen promptly threw his arms around her waist. Tearfully, Mairin gathered him in her arms and proceeded to kiss every inch of his hair.

Alaric and Caelen looked on indulgently, but Ewan could see in their eyes the clear affection they had for his wife. She had conquered them all. Ewan. His brothers. His men. Their clan.

He held up his hand to silence the uproar around them.

“Today is a truly glorious day,” he said to the gathered clan. “Our lady is returned to us at last. She made incredible sacrifices to keep our child safe and the McCabe legacy alive. She worried that the loss of her dowry would somehow dampen our enthusiasm for her return when indeed she is our greatest treasure.”

He turned then to Mairin and slowly went down on one knee in front of her. “You
are
my greatest treasure,” he whispered.

Around him, his men also went down on one knee, their swords drawn and pointed in her direction. Alaric and Caelen both stepped forward. Ewan saw the question in her eyes. Then they both went on bended knee in front of her.

It was too much for his tenderhearted wife. She wept as noisily as a newborn babe. No one seemed to mind. Smiles shone on the faces of his exhausted men.

“Oh, Ewan,” she cried, as she launched herself toward him.

He had no choice but to catch her, though they still landed on the ground in a tangle of arms and legs. She loomed over him and peppered his face and neck with kisses.

She was crying so hard that twice her lips slipped off his face and glanced off his ears.

“I love you,” she wept. “Never did I dream that I’d find a man like you.”

Ewan caught her in his arms and gazed lovingly into her eyes.

“ ’Tis a known fact that you were God’s gift to this clan, lass. And to me. Especially to me,” he whispered.

A resounding cheer nearly deafened him. Mairin clapped her hands over her ears, but her smile was enough to light up the darkest winter night.

Not caring who saw him or what conclusion they drew, he rolled to his feet, swung her into his arms, and started for the steps of the keep.

“Ewan, what are you doing?” she demanded.

He silenced her with a kiss as he walked inside the hall. “Hush, wife. Don’t question me. I have a pressing need to experience my wife’s indecency.”

Mairin stared longingly over the rolling terrain, the earth bursting with green, and inhaled the sweetly perfumed air of summer. She itched to leave the keep, even if just to walk about the courtyard, but Ewan had expressly forbidden her to leave the safety of the walls, and he had enough worries without her adding to them.

The McCabe clan readied for war. It wasn’t an outward cry but rather a quiet readying of the men and their weapons. They were resigned to their fate as enemies of the crown and of Duncan Cameron.

Mairin left the window and descended the stairs to the hall, where she found Gannon and Cormac eating the noon meal with their soldiers. She waved her hand for them to continue eating.

“I’m just going into the kitchens to see Gertie,” she called as she walked by. “I won’t venture farther than that.”

Gannon nodded but kept an eye on her progress. “Stay where I can see you, my lady.”

She smiled and stepped inside the door but remained where Gannon could see her from where he sat.

Only, Gertie wasn’t tending the fire as was her habit. Mairin sniffed the air. No bread was baking either, which was unusual given that Gertie always had a loaf
baking, day or night. Mairin often wondered when the woman took her rest.

Perhaps she’d stepped into the larder. Aye, that was likely, and if so, she’d return in a moment’s time. Gertie wouldn’t leave an unattended fire for more than a few seconds.

But when Gertie didn’t return, Mairin frowned. A noise that sounded like a moan coming from the larder spurred her into action. She rushed through the kitchen and stepped inside the small room, her gaze seeking Gertie.

There crumpled on the floor lay Gertie, blood trickling down her temple. Mairin rushed forward to kneel by the older woman. Then she turned, prepared to call for Gannon, when a hand clamped over her mouth and an arm jerked her from the floor against a hard body.

“Not a sound, my lady.”

She managed to free her mouth. “Diormid?”

“Silence,” he bit out.

Her shock wore off and gave way to burning rage. “You dare to show yourself on McCabe land? You’ll not live to see another sunrise. My husband will kill you.”

“You are my passage to freedom,” he gritted out next to her ear.

The unmistakable feel of a blade cutting into her dress over her belly sent a shiver up Mairin’s spine. He held the knife so close she could barely move for fear of being cut.

Diormid’s grip tightened on her and he laid the flat of the blade against her now bare belly. “Listen well. If you do anything foolish, I’ll slice open your belly and spill the babe onto the ground. If I fail to bring you back to Cameron, I die. If I’m caught on McCabe land, I die. I have nothing to lose, Lady McCabe, and I assure you, if you draw attention to us, I’ll kill you and your babe before I die.”

For some reason his words infuriated her rather than
struck fear in her heart. She was tired of the endless fear they all lived in. She was tired of seeing the worry in Ewan’s eyes. He didn’t sleep well. He wasn’t eating properly. All because he feared the implications of the choices he’d made as laird.

She fingered the dagger attached to her belt. Caelen had gifted it to her upon their return to McCabe keep. His thought was that there was no reason a lass shouldn’t be able to defend herself if the situation arose.

She found in this moment she was in complete agreement.

Careful not to upset Diormid in any way, she nodded her agreement. “Of course I’ll do whatever you wish. I’ve no desire for harm to come to my child.”

“We go out the back, where the skirt crumbles. My horse waits in the trees. If anyone sees you, you are to call out that Gertie has need of the healer.”

Mairin nodded. Diormid’s hand closed around her nape while his other hand still gripped the knife against her belly. As soon as she felt the metal leave her flesh, she whirled, her dagger in hand.

In Diormid’s surprise, his knife swung up, slicing her upper arm. But the pain barely registered, so intent was she on her task.

She rammed her knee right between his legs and at the same time sank her dagger deep in his belly. He staggered back and then went down hard, his hands going to his groin. He was crying far more piteously than Heath had done when Ewan gave him the same treatment.

Wanting to make sure he was incapacitated, she grabbed one of the heavy cooking pots from the floor and bashed him over the head. He went immediately still, sprawled on the floor, arms and legs thrown wide. Only the hilt of her dagger shone against his belly. No
part of the blade was visible. It was buried too deeply in his flesh.

Satisfied that he wasn’t going anywhere for the moment, she turned and fled, yelling for Gannon as she went.

As she entered the kitchen, she ran full tilt into Gannon and bounced off. She would have fallen had he not grasped her arms to steady her. Then he saw her torn dress, and his expression grew stormy.

“What is it, my lady? What’s happened?”

Before she could respond, he shoved her behind him and drew his sword.

“There is something I must show you,” she said urgently. “Well, that is, I need you to stand guard while I fetch Ewan.”

Without awaiting his response, she ran around him and tugged at his hand, pulling him into the storage room. She pointed at Diormid sprawled on the floor. “I must fetch Ewan. Can you make certain he doesn’t move until I get back?”

Gannon’s face clouded with fury as he looked on the man he’d trusted and called brother-in-arms. Then he looked up at Mairin in astonishment. “My lady, what did you do to him?”

At his question, the events of the last moments caught up to her hard and fast. Realization set in as to just how close she and her babe had come to harm. Her hands began shaking and her stomach rebelled. She turned and retched violently. She bent double and held her middle as she heaved onto the floor. Tears burned her eyes as she sucked in steadying breaths in an attempt to quiet her roiling stomach.

“My lady, are you hurt? What has happened?” Gannon asked worriedly.

She straightened and put her hand on Gannon’s arm to steady herself. “Do I have your promise, Gannon?
You’ll make sure he doesn’t move until I return with Ewan?”

“I’m already here, lass. The entire keep heard your bellow,” Ewans’ voice sounded behind her.

She whirled in its direction to see him and his brothers standing in the doorway and promptly regretted her action. Nausea billowed up her throat and she bent over once again.

It was Caelen who put an arm around her and held her as spasms overtook her. Ewan was too busy surveying the scene in front of him.

“What in God’s name happened?” Ewan roared. “How did he get into our larder?” He turned on Gannon. “Have you an explanation for this?”

“Nay, Laird, I do not.”

“Gertie,” Mairin choked out. “Ewan, she’s injured.”

Ewan motioned for Gannon to see to Gertie, who still lay on the floor a short distance away. Gannon lifted Gertie in his arms and carried her from the larder. She was already coming around and protesting loudly that she could walk under her own power. Ewan turned to Mairin, who shook like a leaf against Caelen’s side.