In Bed with a Highlander (10 page)

Maddie nodded emphatically. “You have to admit, ’tis a sound plan. If you marry her, Duncan Cameron very well can’t.”

“There is that,” Caelen pointed out.

Alaric turned to Caelen, his expression questioning. “Now you’re going along with this madness?”

Ewan held up his hand to silence them. The throbbing in his head had escalated to a full-blown ache. He leveled a stare at Maddie, who had been listening to everything with rapt attention.

“You may go now, Maddie. I fully expect that everything that has been said here will remain strictly confidential. If gossip gets about the keep, I’ll know where it originated.”

Maddie rose and dropped a curtsy. “Of course, Laird.”

She hurried off and then Ewan turned to his brothers.

“Tell me you aren’t considering this madness,” Alaric cut in before Ewan could get a word out.

“What madness do you think I’m considering?” Ewan asked mildly.

“Marriage. Believing that the lass is the bastard daughter of Alexander, which makes her the niece of our
current king. Not to mention half sister of the man who spent ten years trying to usurp David from the throne. And would do so again given the least opportunity.”

“What I believe is that the lass and I are due for a long conversation. I intend to see this mark for myself. Given the relationship between our father and Alexander, I’ve seen his royal seal on more than one occasion. I’d know if the mark on her leg is the true one.”

Caelen snorted. “And you think she’s going to lift her skirts for you to see this brand? She’s more likely to knee you in the testicles for the offense.”

“I can be persuasive when the situation calls for it,” Ewan drawled.

“This, I’d love to see,” Alaric said.

Ewan raised his eyebrows. “You’ll see nothing of the sort. If I catch you even looking like you want a glimpse under Mairin Stuart’s skirts, I’ll pin you to the wall with my broadsword.”

Alaric raised his hands in defense. “Forget I said anything. You’re awfully touchy about a lass you claim annoys you to no end.”

“If the lass is who Maddie says she is, I aim to marry her,” Ewan said grimly. “Our clan needs the coin her dowry would provide.”

Simultaneously, his brothers’ mouths dropped. Caelen cursed loudly and Alaric shook his head and sent his eyes heavenward.

“Think about what you’re saying,” Caelen said.

“I believe I’m the only one who
is
thinking,” Ewan returned. “If ’tis true that her firstborn inherits Neamh Álainn, think about what this would mean for our clan. We would control the choicest lands in the whole of Scotland. No longer would we sit here dreaming about the day we take our revenge on Duncan Cameron. We would decimate him and his name. He would be obliterated from history. Our name would be avenged. The
McCabe clan would be second only to the king. No one, and I mean no one, would ever have the power to destroy us as Duncan Cameron nearly did eight years ago.”

His fist came down on the table, and his entire body trembled with rage.

“I made a vow on our father’s grave that I would not rest until our clan was restored to its full glory and that I would make Duncan Cameron pay for his crimes against us.”

Caelen’s face went cold, and Ewan could see the pain flare to light in his brother’s eyes. But he nodded, his lips set into a fine line. “In this we agree.”

“Neamh Álainn lies to the north with only McDonald between us. If we form a strong alliance with him, we would control a vast portion of this region.”

Excitement stirred in Ewan’s veins as the plans of the last eight years came to life in his mind. Finally he saw a way to fulfill his vow to his father.

“The lass is courageous and she’s fiercely protective of Crispen. She’d make him a fine mother, as well as the rest of the sons she’d bear me. In return, I’d give her my protection, and she’d never have to worry about Duncan Cameron again.”

“It isn’t us you have to convince,” Alaric said with a twist of his lips. “ ’Tis the lass you have to persuade. Caelen and I stand beside you always. You well know that. My loyalty is to you. Always. It extends to the woman you marry, no matter who she may be. She
is
a very courageous lass. I saw that for myself. And if she brings with her a dowry like Neamh Álainn, then I see no downside in marrying her.”

Caelen nodded, but he said nothing about Mairin. Ewan didn’t expect him to. It would surprise Ewan greatly if Caelen ever allowed himself to trust another woman again. If he ever sought to breed sons, Ewan felt
pity for the woman Caelen would marry. Once, Caelen had given himself unreservedly. The folly of youth. He’d vowed never to do so again.

Ewan put his hands down on the table and pushed himself to his feet. “It would appear I have much to discuss with Mairin Stuart. Alaric, I want you to send out an escort for Father McElroy. He’s up at the McDonalds’ administering last rites to one of their sick. I’ll need him here to perform the wedding. If the lass is who Maddie says she is, I don’t want to delay. We’ll marry immediately.”

Ewan stopped outside Mairin’s chamber and smiled at the proximity to his own private quarters. She probably wouldn’t be pleased if she knew how close he’d placed her. He knocked to be polite, but he didn’t wait for her answering summons before opening the door and entering the chamber.

Mairin whirled from her position at the window, her unbound hair flying about her shoulders. The furs were pulled aside to allow the sun to shine in, and she posed an enchanting portrait with the light reflecting the brilliant hue of her eyes.

Aye, she was indeed a bonnie lass, and it would be no hardship to marry her and get her with child. In fact, now that he’d decided on a course of action, he looked forward to the prospect of Mairin in his bed.

She looked indignant over his intrusion, but before she could launch the reprimand he was sure was forthcoming, he held up a hand. The lass had no respect for his authority over her, but that was a matter that would quickly change. When she was his wife, he’d take great delight in advising her of her duty to him and, most important, her obligation to obey him without question.

“Will you tell me now what it is I want to know?” he asked. To be fair—and he was a fair man—he wanted to
give her the opportunity to confide her identity before he related his own knowledge.

She thrust her chin upward in the show of defiance he now expected from her and shook her head. “Nay. I will not. You cannot order me to trust you. Why that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

He sensed she was warming up for a full-length diatribe, so he did the one thing he knew would silence her.

He rapidly closed the distance between them, curled his hands around her upper arms, and hauled her upward. His lips found hers in a heated rush, her gasp of outrage swallowed up by his mouth.

She went rigid against him, her hands shoving between them in an attempt to push him away. He brushed his tongue over her lips, tasting her sweetness, demanding entrance into her mouth.

Her second gasp came out more as a sigh. Her lips parted and she melted into his chest like warm honey. She was soft all over, and she fit him like his sword fit his hand. Perfectly.

He pushed inward, sliding his tongue over hers. She went rigid again, and her fingers curled into his chest like tiny daggers. He closed his eyes and imagined them digging into his back as he thrust between her thighs.

Lord, but she was sweet. Nay, bedding her would be no hardship at all. The image of her swollen with his child flickered through his mind, and he found himself very pleased with the image. Very pleased indeed.

When he finally pulled away, her eyes were glazed, her lips deliciously swollen, and she swayed like a sapling in the wind.

She blinked several times and then frowned sharply. “Why did you do that?”

“It was the only way to silence you.”

She bristled with outrage. “Silence me? You took liberties with my … my … my lips in order to silence me?
That was very impertinent of you, Laird. I won’t allow you to do it again.”

He smiled and folded his arms over his chest. “Aye, you will.”

Her mouth gaped open in astonishment and then worked up and down as she struggled to speak. “I assure you I won’t.”

“I assure you that you will.”

She stamped her foot, and he stifled his laughter at the fury in her eyes. “You’ve gone daft! Is this some trick? An attempt to seduce me into telling you who I am?”

“Not at all, Mairin Stuart.”

She recoiled in shock. If he had any doubts about the validity of Maddie’s claims, he didn’t now. Mairin’s reaction was too genuine. She was utterly horrified that he knew the truth.

She quickly came to the same realization that she’d given herself away, because she didn’t attempt to deny it. Tears welled in her eyes and she turned away, her fist going to her mouth.

An uncomfortable sensation knotted his chest. The sight of her distress unsettled him. The lass had suffered enough, and now she looked as though she was utterly defeated. The light had vanished from her eyes the moment he’d uttered her name.

“Mairin,” he began and gently touched her shoulder. She trembled underneath his touch, and he realized she shook with quiet sobs. “Lass, don’t cry. ’Tis not as bad as that.”

“Nay?” She sniffed and shrugged away from his hand, moving closer to the window again. She bowed her head and her hair fell over her face, obscuring it from his view.

He wasn’t any good with tears. They discomfited him. He was much more comfortable when he was inciting
her anger. So he did the one thing he knew would infuriate her. He ordered her to stop crying.

As predicted, she turned on him, spitting like a cornered kitten.

“I’ll cry if I want to. You will cease ordering me about!”

He raised an eyebrow. “You dare to issue
me
orders?”

She flushed, but at least she wasn’t crying any longer.

“Now tell me about this brand on your thigh. Your father’s crest. I’d like to see it.”

She went crimson and she backed up a step until her back met with the ledge of the window. “I will not do something so indecent as to show you my leg!”

“When we’re married, I’ll see more than that,” he said mildly.

“Married?
Married?
I’m not marrying you, Laird. I’m not marrying anyone. Not yet anyway.”

It was the yet that intrigued Ewan. Clearly the lass hadn’t totally discounted the notion of marriage, and she seemed levelheaded enough, so she had to realize the importance of marrying. She could hardly bear an heir to Neamh Álainn if she never married.

He sat on the bed and stretched his legs outward. This might take awhile, and he might as well be comfortable.

“Tell me why not
yet
. Surely you’ve given thought to marriage.”

“Aye, I’ve given it thought. I’ve thought about little else over the years,” she blurted out. “Have you any idea how the last ten years have been for me? Living in fear, having to hide from men who’d force me to their will so that they’d gain from their marriage to me. Men who would plant their seed in my belly and discard me the moment I gave birth.

“I was but a child when I was forced into hiding. A
child
. I needed time to formulate a plan. Mother Serenity suggested I find a man, a warrior, with the strength to
protect my heritage, but also a man with honor. Someone who would treat me well,” she whispered. “A man who would cherish the gift I would bring to our marriage. And me.”

He was struck by the vulnerability in her voice. The dreams of a young woman sounded strong in the tale she spun. It wasn’t practical, but when he looked at her, he understood that she’d been desperate and afraid, and she’d clung to the hope of finding such a man among all the ones who’d do just as she said. Marry her, impregnate her, and discard her when she no longer served a purpose.

He sighed. She wanted to be loved and cherished. He couldn’t offer her those things, but he could offer her his protection and his regard. It was far more than Duncan Cameron would give her.

“I’ll never hurt you, lass. You’ll have the respect due you as wife to the laird of the McCabe clan. I’ll protect you and any child you bear me. You wanted a man who had the strength to defend your legacy. I’m that man.”

She turned wounded eyes on him, skepticism bright in her gaze. “Not to offer insult, Laird, but your keep is crumbling around your ears. If you can’t defend your own, how can you expect to defend a holding such as Neamh Álainn?”

He stiffened at the insult, intended or not.

“You cannot be angry over such an observation,” she rushed to say. “ ’Tis my right to question the qualifications of the man I would marry and in whose hands I would place my life.”

“I have spent the last eight years fortifying my troops. There is not a larger, better-trained force in all of Scotland.”

“If that is correct, why then does your keep look as if it has sustained crippling damage in a battle?”

“It did,” he said bluntly. “Eight years ago. Since then
my focus has been on keeping my clan fed and my men trained. Repairs to the keep have been a much lower priority.”