In Bed with a Highlander (34 page)

“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.

She had yet to tell him of her pregnancy, and he didn’t know if it was because she didn’t want to burden him with how ill she was feeling, or if she truly hadn’t yet realized it herself.

He rubbed a hand down her side and over her hip before sliding it between their bodies to rest over her still slim abdomen where their child rested. A child that represented so much hope for the future of his clan.

He kissed Mairin’s brow, smiling as he remembered her and Crispen skipping stones on the loch. She stirred against him and sleepily opened her eyes.

“I wasn’t sure you were coming to bed tonight, Laird.”

He smiled. “ ’Tis actually quite early. You just went to sleep much earlier than usual.”

She yawned and burrowed closer, twining her legs with his. “Has an agreement been made regarding Alaric’s marriage?”

Ewan stroked a hand through her hair. “Aye. Alaric has agreed to the match.”

“You’ll miss him.”

“Aye, I’ll miss having him here as my right hand. But this is a great opportunity for him to rule his own lands and clan.”

“And Rionna? Is she satisfied with the match?”

Ewan’s brow crinkled. “I don’t concern myself with what McDonald’s daughter is satisfied with. The marriage is set. She’ll do her duty.”

Mairin rolled her eyes, but Ewan, unwilling to be at odds with her on a night he wanted only to hold her in his arms, kissed her long and deep. “I prefer to discuss other matters, wife.”

She pushed back just a little and viewed him with skepticism. “What things, husband?”

“Like when you’re going to tell me that we’re expecting a child.”

Her eyes went soft and glowed warmly in the light from the hearth. “How did you know?”

He chuckled. “You’ve been sleeping far more than usual. You’re usually unconscious by the time I come to bed at night. And you can’t keep anything you eat down.”

She wrinkled her nose in distaste. “I hadn’t intended for you to know of my retching.”

“You should know by now that you can’t hide anything from me, lass. Everything you do is my concern and I’d rather hear it from you when you aren’t feeling well.”

“I’m feeling quite well now,” she whispered.

He raised one eyebrow before capturing her lips in a long kiss. “Just how well?” he murmured back.

“I don’t know. I might need some loving to make me feel completely myself.”

He cupped her cheek and tenderly rubbed his thumb over her mouth. “By all means, we can’t have you feeling anything but yourself. The keep wouldn’t know
what to do if you weren’t driving them daft at every moment.”

She balled her fist and pounded him on the chest. He hugged her tightly to him and their laughter filtered through their closed door.

Down the hall, Alaric quietly closed his door so the sound wouldn’t invade his sanctuary. He sat on the edge of the bed and stared out the window at the stars hanging low on the horizon.

He envied his brother. He took such delight in his marriage and his wife. Mairin was a woman like no other.

He’d told the truth when he told his brother that he wasn’t ready for marriage. Perhaps he’d never be. Because he’d decided as soon as he watched his brother fall hard for his new bride that he’d never settle for less in his own relationship than the one Ewan and Mairin shared. Only now he wasn’t offered a choice. His clan needed him. His brother needed him. And he’d never refuse Ewan anything.

Over the next weeks, the weather grew warmer and Mairin spent as much time outside the keep as she could. Though she wouldn’t admit as much to Ewan, she kept a sharp eye to the horizon, watching for when her dowry would be brought by the king’s escort.

Ewan’s missive to the king had gone unanswered thus far, but Mairin held hope that any day they would hear the news that the dowry had been carried to McCabe land.

Her belly had pooched ever so slightly. It wasn’t noticeable under the full skirts of her dress, but at night, naked, beneath Ewan, he delighted in the tiny swell that harbored his child.

He couldn’t keep his hands or his mouth from the mound. He’d palm and caress it and then kiss every inch of her flesh. His obvious joy over her pregnancy brought Mairin great satisfaction. Her clan’s joy over the announcement warmed her to her toes.