Read In Bed with a Highlander Online
Authors: Maya Banks
In Bed with a Highlander (42 page)
“Ewan,” McLauren greeted as he approached the two lairds. “I came as soon as I heard.”
Ewan looked at the two men in surprise. The sight of so many soldiers on horseback was an impressive sight, spreading as far as the eye could see.
“Do you realize that by your actions, you actively rebel against the crown? You’ll be branded outlaws,” Ewan said.
Laird McLauren scowled. “ ’Tis wrong what he did, Ewan. If he takes a man’s wife, what’s next? His lands? I stand beside you, as do my men.”
Laird McDonald nodded his agreement.
Ewan grasped the forearm of Laird McLauren and then turned to do the same to McDonald. Then he threw his fist in the air and gave a war cry that was picked up by his men and spread to the McDonalds and the McLaurens. Soon the hills surrounding the keep echoed with the sound of impending battle.
He turned to Mairin and took her hands in his. “I want you to take Crispen and remain behind the walls of the keep. Do not come out until I’ve summoned you. Promise me.”
She nodded her understanding, her eyes wide with fright.
He bent and kissed her. “Do not be afraid, Mairin. We will prevail this day. Now go tend to that cut on your arm.”
She touched his face. “I know we will.”
She turned and called for Crispen. Then she issued a sharp order for all the women of the keep to retreat behind the walls.
“We’ll greet our king at the border of my lands,” Ewan declared. He ordered his men to mount their horses and they rode out, the McDonald and the McLauren men behind them.
Ewan was sick at heart but resolute in his position
against the crown. The life he was forging for himself and Mairin and their children wasn’t an easy one. Their name would forever be associated with dishonor. A hero to some, an outlaw to most.
If keeping the woman he loved by his side was a cause for dishonor, he was prepared to wear the mantle for the rest of his days.
When they arrived at their border, Ewan was surprised to see the king mounted atop his horse with only an escort of half a dozen men. He waited beyond the border, making no effort to cross over onto Ewan’s lands.
“Is this some trick?” McLauren murmured beside Ewan. “Where are the rest of his men? ’Tis suicide to come without his army.”
“Remain here,” Ewan said grimly. He motioned for his brothers and Gannon and Cormac, and rode forward until he was just before the king but still on McCabe land.
The king looked tired and as if he still suffered the effects of his illness. His face was drawn and pale and his shoulders sagged precariously.
“Your Majesty,” Ewan acknowledged. “Why have you come to my borders?”
“I’ve come to correct a wrong. And to thank you.”
Of all the things Ewan thought his king might say, that wasn’t one of them. He cocked his head to the side but didn’t say anything, instead waiting for the king to explain.
“You come with the might of not only your army, but that of the McDonald and the McLauren clans,” the king said. “Tell me, Laird McCabe, would you have fought me this day had I come under the declaration of war?”
“Aye,” Ewan said without hesitation.
Amusement gleamed in the king’s eyes. “By doing so, you would brand yourself an outcast for the rest of your days?”
“Only if I lost,” Ewan drawled. “And I didn’t plan to lose.”
The king shifted on his saddle. “I would meet my niece, Laird McCabe.”
Ewan leveled a stare at King David, unflustered by the abrupt change in topic. “I’ll not allow Mairin outside my walls.”
The king nodded approvingly. “Which is why I hope you invite me within. We have much to discuss, and as I stated, I have much to thank you for.”
“It could be a trick,” Alaric muttered.
“You’ll enter alone,” Ewan said. “Your men remain outside the walls.”
The king arched one eyebrow. “You’re asking me to have that much trust in a man who’s admitted he has no issue with killing me?”
“If all I wanted was to kill you, you’d already be dead,” Ewan said calmly.
David studied him for a moment longer and then slowly nodded. “Very well then. I’ll ride with you into the keep. My men will escort me as far as your gate.”
Ewan turned and gave his men the signal to hold. Then he motioned for David to follow him. Ewan’s brothers flanked the king as they rode back toward the keep.
True to his word, David signaled his men to halt when they reached the bridge across the loch. The McDonald and the McLauren men remained behind while Ewan’s men tramped across the bridge behind their laird.
They dismounted and David slid from his horse and wavered unsteadily on his feet. Ewan frowned but did nothing to shame his king by offering aid in front of his men.
“Laird, shall I send for Lady McCabe?” Cormac whispered.
Ewan shook his head. “Nay, and in fact, I want you to
go to your mistress and make sure she remains in her chamber until I summon her. Protect her well, Cormac, until I know all that transpires here.”
Cormac nodded and hurried away.
The men entered the hall and Ewan called for ale and light refreshment. They sat at the high table and David was quiet as he sipped his ale.
After a moment he looked at Ewan over the rim of his goblet and chewed his lips in a thoughtful measure.
“I’ve need of men of your ilk, Ewan. You had every reason to despise me and yet you warned my guard of your suspicion that I was being weakened by men I trusted. ’Tis because of that warning that I am alive and in front of you today. Archibald indeed plotted against me with Cameron. Archibald slowly poisoned me over time so it would appear as if I sickened and died of natural causes.”
The king sighed and set his goblet down. “I would apologize for the wrongs done to you and especially to your lady wife. I would like to meet my niece with your blessing.”
Ewan regarded his king for a long moment but saw only sincerity reflected in the older man’s eyes. Then he turned to Caelen. “Go and escort Mairin to the hall so that she may meet her uncle.”
Mairin clutched at Caelen’s arm as they started for the stairs. She’d instructed Crispen to remain behind in her chamber with Maddie, but right now she’d give anything to have someone else to hold on to.
Caelen paused at the top of the stairs and then he produced her dagger in the small leather sheathe he’d fashioned to attach to her belt.
“I thought you might like this back,” he said in amusement.
She reached for the knife and attached it to her belt. “Thank you, Caelen. ’Twas very thoughtful of you.”
He smiled and squeezed her arm reassuringly. “Chin up. A fierce lass such as you bows to no one.”
They traveled down the stairs and turned the corner into the hall. Across the room, Ewan and the king rose from their seats in acknowledgment of her presence.
Mairin’s knees knocked together in abject terror. Not terror in that she was afraid the king might harm her. Nay, Ewan was standing right beside the king, and he’d never allow such a thing to happen.
This was her family, though. Her flesh and blood. Her uncle. And he was the king of Scotland.
Caelen came to a stop just before the king and loosened his hold on Mairin’s arm, stepping back to allow her the moment with her uncle.
Remembering that she should show respect for the king, no matter Caelen’s thought that she should bow before no one, she hastily dipped into a sweeping curtsy and prayed she wouldn’t fall at his feet.
She waited for his permission to rise, but to her surprise, he knelt down in front of her and took her hands in his. He pulled her to her feet, and she was further shocked to see a bright sheen of moisture in his eyes. Eyes that reminded her of her own.
He looked haggard. Pale and exhausted as if he’d fought a long battle with sickness and had only just begun his recovery. Lines etched deeply into his forehead, and wrinkles marred the corners of his eyes.
He kept a firm grip on her hands as he held them in the space between his own. “If I ever had any doubt, I don’t now,” he said in a gruff voice. “You have the look of my mother, may God rest her soul.”
“I do?” Mairin whispered.
“Aye, she was a beautiful woman, kind in spirit and devoted to those in need.”
Mairin swallowed, overwhelmed by the enormity of this moment. After so long in hiding, of living in fear, she was openly acknowledged by her father’s blood.
Ewan stepped to her side and wrapped his arm around her waist. The king reluctantly let go of her hands and directed his gaze at Ewan.
“You did a good thing, Ewan. The thought of the lass in Duncan Cameron’s hands …” He cleared his throat. “I will work to correct the wrongs done to you and your wife. I’ll give public blessing to your marriage and I’ll have her dowry transported immediately under heavy guard from Neamh Álainn.”
Mairin gasped. “I thought my dowry lost to Duncan Cameron.”
The king shook his head. “Archibald awarded the dowry to Duncan, but he knew not where it was held. Only I have that knowledge as only I was entrusted with Alexander’s legacy bequeathed to the firstborn of his daughter. It has been under lock and key at Neamh Álainn since Alexander made the bequest so many years ago.”
“Oh, this is wonderful, Ewan!” she exclaimed as she nearly danced in Ewan’s arms.
She turned back to her uncle, concerned by his pallor and apparent weakness. “You would do us great honor if you remained here until your health is restored.”
The king’s eyes widened in surprise and he looked up to Ewan for confirmation. Ewan shrugged. “I have long determined the foolhardiness in denying my wife anything. Besides, she has the right of it. Until you are at full strength, the threat is still strong to you. You need time to ferret out those who worked with Archibald. We would be honored if you spent the time with us.”
David smiled broadly. “Then I would be glad to accept your hospitality.”
In the end, David stayed on for a fortnight, until Mairin’s
dowry was delivered. Her husband and the king, after a wary start, actually got along quite famously. They hunted many of the evenings, going out with Ewan’s brothers and returning to drink ale in the hall and argue over who brought in the biggest kill.
David’s health rapidly improved with Gertie’s cooking and Mairin’s nagging for him to rest. When he rode out with the contingent of soldiers who delivered her dowry, Mairin was actually quite sad to see him go.
That night, in the privacy of their chamber, Ewan made sweet love to her, and afterward she giggled at the memory of telling her laird he was unskilled at loving.
“What amuses you, wife? ’Tis a sin to laugh right after a man has indulged in loving.”
She smiled and snuggled into his arms. As he always did, he cradled her to him, protectively surrounding her burgeoning belly.
“I was remembering certain inaccurate assessments I made about your prowess.”
“Damn right you were wrong,” he growled.
She laughed again and then sighed in contentment. “ ’Tis a wonderful day, Ewan. Our clan is saved. We can feed our clan, clothe our children, and supply our men with the weapons and armor they so desperately need.”
“Aye, sweeting, ’tis a wonderful day.” Then he turned and kissed her until she couldn’t draw breath. He gazed down at her with such tenderness in his eyes that her heart fluttered in her chest. “Almost as wonderful as the day you first stepped onto McCabe land.”
For Kim Whalen, who believed in this book from the very beginning and who told me she would absolutely find a home for it. You did just that.
For Lillie, who is such an invaluable support in so many ways. You make my reader heart so very happy with our book dishing, and you’re unwavering support of my stories is something I’ll always be grateful for.
To Fatin, who is like a mama lion. You take such good care of me. I love you for that!
And finally to my family for trekking all over Scotland with me. For the missed trains, the ridiculous roundabouts, the horrible food, and one of the best times of my life. Love you all so much.
Read on for an exciting preview
of Maya Banks’s next novel
S
EDUCTION OF A
H
IGHLAND
L
ASS
Alaric McCabe looked out over the expanse of McCabe land and grappled with the indecision plaguing him. He breathed in the chilly air and looked skyward. It wouldn’t snow this day. But soon. Autumn had settled over the highlands. Colder air and shorter days had pushed in.
After so many years of struggling to eke out an existence, to rebuild their clan, his brother Ewan had made great strides in restoring the McCabes to their former glory. This winter, their clan wouldn’t go hungry. Their children wouldn’t go without proper clothing.
Now it was time for Alaric to do his part for his clan. In a short time, he would travel to the McDonald holding where he would formally ask for Rionna McDonald’s hand in marriage.
It was pure ceremony. The agreement had been struck weeks earlier. Now the aging laird wanted Alaric to spend time among the McDonalds, a clan that would one day become Alaric’s when he married McDonald’s daughter and only heir.
Even now the courtyard was alive with activity as a contingent of McCabe soldiers readied to make the journey with Alaric.
Ewan, Alaric’s older brother and laird of the McCabe clan, had wanted to send his most trusted men to accompany Alaric on his journey, but Alaric refused. There was still a danger to Ewan’s wife, Mairin, who was heavily pregnant with Ewan’s child.
As long as Duncan Cameron was alive, he posed a threat to the McCabes. He coveted what was Ewan’s—Ewan’s wife and Ewan’s eventual control of Neamh Álainn, a legacy brought through his marriage to Mairin, the daughter of the former king of Scotland.
And now because of the tenuous peace in the highlands and the threat Duncan Cameron posed not only to the neighboring clans but to King David’s throne, Alaric agreed to the marriage that would forge an alliance between the McCabes and the only clan whose lands rested between Neamh Álainn and McCabe land.
It was a good match. Rionna McDonald was fair to look upon even if she was an odd lass who preferred the dress and duties of a man over those of a woman. And Alaric would have what he’d never have if he remained under Ewan: his own clan to lead. His own lands. His heir inheriting the mantle of leadership.
So why wasn’t he more eager to mount his horse and ride toward his destiny?
He turned when he heard a sound to his left. Mairin McCabe was hurrying up the hillside, or at least attempting to hurry, and Cormac, her assigned guard for the day, looked exasperated as he followed in her wake. Her shawl was wrapped tightly around her, and her lips trembled with the cold.
Alaric held out his hand and she gripped it, leaning toward him as she sought to catch her breath.
“You shouldn’t be up here, lass,” Alaric reproached. “You’re going to freeze to death.”
“Nay, she shouldn’t,” Cormac agreed. “If our laird finds out, he’ll be angry.”
Mairin rolled her eyes and then looked anxiously up at Alaric. “Do you have everything you require for your journey?”
Alaric smiled. “Aye, I do. Gertie has packed enough food for a journey twice as long.”
She alternated squeezing and patting Alaric’s hand, her eyes troubled as she rubbed her burgeoning belly with her other hand. He pulled her closer so she’d have the warmth of his body.
“Should you perchance wait another day? It’s near to noon already. Maybe you should wait and leave at dawn on the morrow.”
Alaric stifled his grin. Mairin wasn’t happy with his leaving. She was quite used to having her clan right where she wanted them. On McCabe land. And now that Alaric was set to leave, she’d become increasingly more vocal in her worry and her dissatisfaction.
“I won’t be gone overlong, Mairin,” he said gently. “A few weeks at most. Then I’ll return for a time before the marriage takes place and I reside permanently at McDonald keep.”
Her lips turned down into an unhappy frown at the reminder that Alaric would leave the McCabes and, for all practical purposes, become a McDonald.
“Stop frowning, lass. It isn’t good for the babe. Neither is you being out here in the cold.”
She sighed and threw her arms around him. He took a step back and exchanged amused glances with Cormac over her head. The lass was even more emotional now that she was swollen with child, and the members of her clan were becoming increasingly more familiar with her spontaneous bursts of affection.
“I shall miss you, Alaric. I know Ewan will as well. He says nothing, but he’s quieter now.”
“I’ll miss you, too,” Alaric said solemnly. “Rest assured, I’ll be here when you deliver the newest McCabe.”
At that, her face lit up and she took a step back and reached up to pat him on the cheek.
“Be good to Rionna, Alaric. I know you and Ewan feel she needs a firmer hand, but in truth, I think what she most needs is love and acceptance.”
Alaric fidgeted, appalled that she’d want to discuss matters of love with him. For God’s sake.
She laughed. “All right. I can see I’ve made you uncomfortable. But heed my words.”
“My lady, the laird has spotted you and he doesn’t look pleased,” Cormac said.
Alaric turned to see Ewan standing in the courtyard, arms crossed over his chest and a scowl etched onto his face.
“Come along, Mairin,” Alaric said, as he tucked her hand underneath his arm. “I better return you to my brother before he comes after you.”
Mairin grumbled under her breath, but she allowed Alaric to escort her down the hillside.
When they reached the courtyard, Ewan leveled a glare at his wife but turned his attention to Alaric. “Do you have all you need?”
Alaric nodded.
Caelen, the youngest McCabe brother, came to stand at Ewan’s side. “Are you sure you don’t want me to accompany you?”
“You’re needed here,” Alaric said. “More so as Mairin’s time draws close. Winter snows will be upon us soon. It would be just like Duncan to mount an attack when he thinks we least expect it.”
Mairin shivered at Alaric’s side again and he turned to her. “Give me a hug, sister, and then go back into the keep before you catch your death of cold. My men are ready and I won’t have you crying all over us as we try to leave.”
As expected, Mairin scowled but once again threw her arms around Alaric and squeezed tightly.
“God be with you,” she whispered.
Alaric rubbed an affectionate hand over her hair and then pushed her in the direction of the keep. Ewan reinforced Alaric’s dictate with a ferocious scowl of his own.
Mairin stuck her tongue out and then turned away, Cormac following her toward the steps of the keep.
“If you have need of me, send word,” Ewan said. “I’ll come immediately.”
Alaric gripped Ewan’s arm and the two brothers stared at each other for a long moment before Alaric released him. Caelen pounded Alaric on the back as Alaric went to mount his horse.
“This is a good thing for you,” Caelen said sincerely, once Alaric was astride his horse.
Alaric stared down at his brother and felt the first stirring of satisfaction. “Aye, it is.”
He took a deep breath as his hands tightened on the reins. His lands. His clan. He’d be laird. Aye, this was a good thing.
Alaric and a dozen of the McCabe soldiers rode at a steady pace throughout the day. Since they’d gotten a late start, what would normally be an entire day’s ride would now require them to arrive on McDonald’s land the next morning.
Knowing this, Alaric didn’t press and actually halted his men to make camp just after dusk. They built only one fire and kept the blaze low so it didn’t illuminate a wide area.
After they’d eaten the food that Gertie had prepared for the journey, Alaric divided his men into two groups and told the first of the six men to take the first watch.
They stationed themselves around the encampment, providing protection for the remaining six to bed down for a few hours’ rest.
Though Alaric was scheduled for the second watch,
he couldn’t sleep. He lay awake on the hard ground, staring up at the star-filled sky. It was a clear and cold night. The winds were picking up from the north, heralding a coming change in the weather.
Married. To Rionna McDonald. He tried hard but could barely conjure an image of the lass. All he could remember was her vibrant golden hair. She was quiet, which he supposed was a good trait for a woman to have, although Mairin was hardly a quiet or particularly obedient wife. And yet he found her endearing, and he knew that Ewan wouldn’t change a single thing about her.
But then Mairin was all a woman should be—soft and sweet—while Rionna was mannish in both dress and manner. She wasn’t an unattractive lass, which made it puzzling that she would indulge in activities completely unsuitable for a lady.
It was something he’d have to address immediately.
A slight disturbance of the air was the only warning he had before he lunged to the side. A sword caught his side, slicing through clothing and flesh.
Pain seared through his body, but he pushed it aside as he grabbed his sword and bolted to his feet. His men came alive and the night air swelled with the sounds of battle.
Alaric fought two men, the clang of swords blistering his ears. His hands vibrated from the repeated blows as he parried and thrust.
He was backed toward the perimeter set by his men and nearly tripped over one of the men he’d posted as guard. An arrow protruded from his chest, a testimony to how stealthily the ambush had been set.
They were sorely outnumbered and although Alaric would pit the McCabe soldiers against anyone, anytime, and be assured of the outcome, his only choice was to call a retreat lest they all be slaughtered.
He yelled hoarsely for his men to get to their horses.
Then he dispatched the man in front of him and struggled to reach his own mount. Blood poured from his side. The acrid scent rose in the chill and filled his nostrils. Already his vision had dimmed and he knew if he didn’t get himself on his horse, he was done for.
He whistled and his horse bolted forward just as another warrior made his charge at Alaric. Weakening fast from the loss of blood, he fought without the discipline Ewan had instilled in him. He took chances. He was reckless. He was fighting for his life.
With a roar, Alaric’s opponent lunged forward. Gripping his sword in both hands, Alaric swung, slicing through his attacker’s neck and completely decapitating him.
Alaric didn’t waste a single moment savoring the victory. There was another attacker bearing down on him. With the last of his strength, he threw himself on his horse and gave the command to run.
He could make out the outline of bodies as his horse thundered away, and with a sinking feeling, Alaric knew that they weren’t the enemy. He’d lost most, if not all, of his soldiers in the attack.
“Home,” he commanded hoarsely.
He gripped his side and tried valiantly to remain conscious, but with each jostle as the horse flew across the terrain, Alaric’s vision dimmed.
His last conscious thought was that he had to get home to warn Ewan. He just hoped to hell there hadn’t been an attack on the McCabe holding as well.