In Bed with a Highlander (29 page)

She wrinkled her nose at the bitter taste and hoped that the entire batch of ale hadn’t gone bad. She set it aside so Ewan wouldn’t drink it and motioned for Gertie to bring the laird another cup in case it was indeed his.

Laird McDonald kept Ewan engaged in talks of border protection, increased patrols, and the plan to strengthen their alliances by talking with Douglas.

Mairin paid only partial attention to the chatter as she watched Rionna pick idly at her portion. She was wondering what topic she could engage the other woman in when a cramp rippled across her belly.

She frowned and put a hand to her abdomen. Had the food been bad? But surely it was too soon to feel the effects, and the meat was fresh, brought in just two days ago. She watched the others but saw no sign of discomfort. In fact, everyone dug into their food with seeming satisfaction for the taste.

She reached for the goblet that had replaced the bitter
ale when another cramp viciously seized her stomach. She gasped for breath but the pain was so intense that she doubled over.

Another pain knifed through her, gripping her middle in an unrelenting knot. Her vision blurred and she felt a sudden urge to vomit.

She shot to her feet and in her haste, knocked over Ewan’s goblet. The liquid spilled over the table and into Ewan’s lap.

Ewan jerked his head from his conversation with McDonald, a frown marring his lips. She swayed and then doubled over, a cry escaping as fire twisted her innards.

Rionna jumped up and bent anxiously over Mairin, her face creased with concern. Around her, murmurs arose as everyone focused on their mistress and her obvious distress.

“Mairin!”

Ewan was on his feet, his hands reaching to steady her. She would have fallen had he not hauled her up against him. She went limp, her legs no longer able to sustain her weight.

“Mairin, what’s wrong?” Ewan demanded.

“Sick,” she gasped. “Oh God, Ewan, I think I’m dying. The pain.”

She sagged again and Ewan went down with her, easing her weight to the floor. Above her, Alaric’s worried face appeared.

“What the hell is going on, Ewan?” Alaric demanded. He shoved Rionna back and maintained a protective perimeter around Mairin.

And then she turned her head and retched all over the floor. The sound was awful even to her own ears, but it felt ten times worse.

It was as if she’d swallowed a million pieces of glass and they were shredding her insides.

She curled into a ball on the floor in so much pain that in a moment of weakness, she prayed for death.

“Nay!” Ewan roared. “You won’t die. I won’t allow it. Do you hear me, Mairin? I won’t allow it. You will obey me, goddamn it! For once you will obey!”

She whimpered as Ewan hauled her from the floor. She winced as his shouts rung in her ears. He yelled orders and the hall was alive with the sound of scrambling feet and answering exclamations.

She was jostled about in Ewan’s arms as he charged up the stairs. He burst into their chamber, all the while shouting demands to the rest of his clan.

He wasn’t gentle as he laid her on the bed. Her stomach heaved again as the smell of her own vomit seared her nostrils. Her dress. It was ruined. Now she couldn’t even be buried in it.

Ewan clasped her face in his hands and leaned down until their noses were nearly touching.

“No one is burying you, lass. Do you hear? You will live or, so help me, I’ll follow you to hell and drag you back kicking and screaming the entire way.”

“I hurt,” she whimpered.

His touch gentled as he smoothed the hair from her face. “I know, lass. I know you hurt. I’d bear it for you if I could. Promise me you’ll fight. Promise me!”

She wasn’t sure what she was supposed to fight, and the pain screaming through her insides made her want to curl into a ball and close her eyes, but when she tried, Ewan shook her until her teeth rattled in her head.

“Ewan, what’s wrong with me?” she whispered, as another wave of pain overwhelmed her.

His face was grim and going more blurry by the minute. “You’ve been poisoned.”

It had been many years since Ewan had prayed. Not since the birth of his son, when he’d prayed over his wife’s bedside as she struggled to bring forth the life within her.

But he found himself offering fervent prayer now as he stood over Mairin’s bedside. Maddie flew in behind him with Bertha on her heels.

“You must make her vomit, Laird,” Bertha said. “There’s no time to waste. We don’t know how much of the poison she took in and she must rid her stomach of all its contents.”

Ewan bent and grasped Mairin by the shoulders, rolling her to the edge of the bed so her head hung over the side. He took her face gently between his hands and pried her mouth with his thumb.

She twisted and fought against him but he tightened his grip, refusing to give way.

“Listen to me, Mairin,” he said urgently. “We must rid your stomach of its contents. I must make you vomit. I’m sorry, but I have no choice.”

As soon as her lips parted, he thrust his fingers to the back of her throat and she gagged and convulsed. With only one arm to hold her, it was difficult.

“Help me hold her,” he barked to Maddie. “If you can’t do it, call one of my brothers.”

Bertha and Maddie both leaped forward, pressing their full weight against Mairin’s body.

Mairin gagged again and she vomited onto the floor.

“Again, Laird,” Bertha urged. “I know ’tis difficult to see her in such pain, but if she’s to survive, it must be done.”

He’d do anything to keep her from dying, even if it meant causing her agony. He held her head and forced her to retch. Again and again she heaved until nothing more would push itself out. Her entire body was so rigid, it was a wonder she hadn’t broken any bones yet.

Still he pressed on, determined to keep her alive. Finally Bertha touched his arm. “ ’Tis done. You can release her now.”

Maddie got up and wet a rag with water from the washbasin and thrust it at Ewan. He wiped Mairin’s mouth and then her flushed, sweaty forehead.

Carefully he eased her back onto the bed and then stripped the clothing from her body. He tossed the garments aside and instructed the women to clean the chamber to rid it of the noxious smell.

He sat by Mairin’s side as he pulled the covers to shield her nakedness. He watched anxiously, feeling so helpless that it kindled a rage so deep that he burned with it.

He could hear the commotion outside his chamber door, knew his brothers were there, and others, but he wouldn’t take his eyes from Mairin.

The women rapidly cleaned the mess from the chamber and removed the offending clothing. Moments later, Maddie returned, shutting the door firmly behind her.

“Laird, let me take over her care,” she said in a soft voice. “She’s emptied her stomach. There’s naught to do but wait now.”

Ewan shook his head. “I won’t leave her.”

He ran a finger through her limp hair and touched her cheek, alarmed by how cool her skin felt to his touch. Her breathing was shallow, so light that many times he’d leaned his head down, afraid that no air escaped her nose any longer.

She’d slipped into unconsciousness. She hadn’t moved, hadn’t stirred or cried out from the vicious pain assaulting her. He didn’t know what was worse. Hearing her helpless cries or seeing her as still as death.

They both frightened the hell out of him.

Maddie stood by the bed for a long moment, and then with a sigh, she turned and left the chamber.

Before Ewan could recline on the bed beside Mairin, his brothers burst into the chamber.

“How is she?” Alaric demanded.

Caelen didn’t speak, but the storm was there in his eyes as he stared down at Mairin.

Ewan touched Mairin’s cheek again and ran his fingers underneath her nose until he felt the light exchange of air on his skin. There was so much turmoil churning in his gut. Rage. Fear. Helplessness.

“I don’t know,” he finally said. The admission twisted the knife in his belly until he had the same urge to vomit as Mairin.

“Who did this?” Caelen hissed. “Who could have poisoned her?”

Ewan glanced down at Mairin as anger knotted his chest. His nostrils flared and he curled his fingers into tight fists. “McDonald,” he said through clenched teeth. “Goddamn McDonald.”

Alaric reared back in surprise. “McDonald?”

Ewan stared hard at his two brothers. “I want you to stay with her. The both of you. Summon me if there is any change in her condition. Right now I trust no one but you until I discover who is trying to kill my wife.”

“Ewan, where are you going?” Caelen demanded, as Ewan stalked from the room.

Ewan turned around as he reached the doorway. “To have a word with McDonald.”

He stormed down the stairs, his sword drawn as he entered the hall where the majority of his soldiers were now assembled. They came to attention when they saw Ewan’s sword at the ready.

McDonald stood to the side, surrounded by his guards. Rionna was next to him and the two were conversing in urgent tones. Tension knotted the air in the hall, so thick that Ewan’s skin prickled with it.

Rionna looked up in alarm when she saw Ewan approach. She drew her sword and stepped in front of her father, but Ewan shoved her aside and she went reeling.

The hall erupted in chaos.

The McDonald men lunged for Ewan, and Ewan’s men reacted fiercely in protection of their laird.

“Protect the woman,” Ewan barked to Gannon.

Ewan was on McDonald before he could draw his sword. Ewan grabbed the older man by the tunic and slammed him against the wall.

McDonald’s face purpled with rage and his cheeks puffed out as Ewan drew the collar of his tunic tighter around his neck. “Ewan, what is the meaning of this?”

“Just how badly did you want me to marry your daughter?” Ewan asked in a dangerously low voice.

McDonald blinked in confusion before realization set in. Spittle peppered his lips as he huffed and made sounds of outrage. “Are you accusing me of poisoning Lady McCabe?”

“Did you?”

McDonald’s eyes narrowed in fury. He shoved at Ewan’s hands in an attempt to dislodge Ewan’s hold, but Ewan only slammed him into the wall again.

“This is war,” McDonald spat. “I won’t let this insult go unanswered.”

“If you want war, I’ll be more than happy to accommodate you,” Ewan hissed. “And when I’ve wiped the earth with your blood, your lands and all you hold dear will be mine. You want to speak of insults, Laird? You come into my home, partake of my hospitality, and you try to kill my lady wife?”

McDonald paled and stared hard into Ewan’s eyes. “I did not do this thing, Ewan. You have to believe me. Aye, I wanted Rionna to marry you, but a marriage with your brother will do just as well.
I did not poison her.
”

Ewan’s jaw twitched and his nostrils flared. Sweat broke out on McDonald’s forehead and he looked nervously left and right, but his men had easily been staved off by Ewan’s soldiers.

Rionna stood several feet away, her arms held by Gannon. She was spitting mad, and it took Gannon’s all to restrain her.

There was no guilt in McDonald’s eyes. Did he tell the truth? The timing of McDonald’s arrival and Mairin’s poisoning was too coincidental. Or was it only made to appear that way?

Ewan relaxed his hold and eased McDonald away from the wall. “You’ll excuse my rudeness but I want you and your men off my lands at once. My wife lies deathly ill and I know not if she’ll survive. Know this, McDonald. If she dies and if I discover you did this thing, there is no rock in all of Scotland that you can hide under, no corner you can seek refuge in.”

“W—What of our alliance?” McDonald babbled.

“All that concerns me right now is my wife. Go home, McDonald. Go home and pray that she lives. We’ll speak of our proposed alliance another day.”

He all but threw McDonald toward the door leading from the hall.

“Ewan! The lass is sick again. She’s retching something fierce. Nothing Caelen and I do seems to help.”

Ewan whipped around to see Alaric standing at the entrance to the hall, his expression haggard.

“See to their departure,” Ewan snapped at Gannon. “Escort them to our border and make sure they don’t linger.”

Then Ewan broke into a run, shoving past Alaric as he thundered up the stairs.

He burst into the chamber to see Caelen holding Mairin over the side of the bed as she gagged and heaved. Caelen looked desperate, and yet he held Mairin protectively against him, anchoring her as her entire body shook with the force of her retching.

Caelen looked up as Ewan charged toward the bed. “Ewan, thank God you’re here. I can’t make her stop and ’tis killing her!”

Ewan took Mairin’s limp body and cradled her in his arms. “Shh, sweeting. Breathe with me. Through your nose. You must stop the retching.”

“Sick,” she whimpered. “Please, Ewan, let me die. It hurts so much.”

His heart turned over and he hugged her tighter against him. “Just breathe,” he whispered. “Breathe for me, Mairin. The hurt will go away. I swear it.”

She clutched his tunic so tight that the material drew uncomfortably across his arms. Her body tensed, but this time she managed to hold back the urge to vomit.