In Bed with a Highlander (35 page)

When Ewan had stood during the evening meal and announced Mairin’s pregnancy, the hall had erupted in cheers. The word raced throughout the keep and a celebration ensued, lasting well into the night.

Aye, life was good. Nothing could mar this day for Mairin. She patted her belly, breathed in the perfumed
air, and set off for the courtyard, eager to get a glimpse of her husband training.

As she descended the hill, she looked up and caught her breath. Her heart pounded furiously as she watched the distant riders galloping toward the McCabe keep. Unfurled and flying, held by the front rider, was the king’s banner bearing the royal crest.

Her haste was unseemly, but she didn’t care. She picked up her skirts and ran for the courtyard. Ewan was already receiving word of the imminent arrival of the king’s messenger. Word had raced like wildfire around the keep and her clansmen popped from every corner, crowding into the courtyard, the steps of the keep, and the hillside overlooking the courtyard.

The air of anticipation was thick and sparked like fire as the excited murmurs buzzed from person to person.

Mairin stood back, her bottom lip clenched so tightly between her teeth that she tasted blood. Ewan’s brothers flanked Ewan as he waited the approaching riders.

The lead rider cantered across the bridge and pulled his horse up in front of Ewan. He slid off his mount and called a greeting.

“I bear a message from His Majesty.”

He handed a scroll to Ewan. Mairin surveyed the remaining riders. There were only a dozen armed soldiers, but there was no sign of trunks or anything that might signal the arrival of her dowry.

Ewan didn’t immediately open the scroll. Instead he extended hospitality to the king’s men. The rest dismounted and their horses were taken to the stables. The McCabe women brought refreshment to the men when they gathered in the hall to rest from their travel.

Ewan offered them lodging for the night, but they refused, their need to return to Carlisle castle pressing. Mairin died a thousand deaths as she hovered, waiting for Ewan to open the message. Only when the messenger
was seated with drink and food did Ewan also sit and unroll the missive.

She whispered to Maddie to fetch quill and ink, knowing that Ewan would need to pen a reply if one was necessary before the messenger took his leave.

As his eyes moved back and forth, his jaw clenched and his expression became murderous. Mairin’s chest tightened in dread as she watched anger gather like a storm in his eyes.

Unable to restrain herself, she rushed forward and touched Ewan’s shoulder. “Ewan? Is something amiss?”

“Leave me,” he said harshly.

She instantly recoiled from the fury in his voice. Her hand dropped and she took a hasty step back. Ewan raised his gaze to the others assembled and barked an order to clear the hall.

Mairin turned and left, avoiding Maddie’s look of sympathy when she passed her by.

Ewan read the missive again, unable to believe what was before his eyes. He scanned the signature at the bottom, noting that it was signed by the king’s closest advisor, not the king himself. He wasn’t sure what to make of that.

Regardless of whether it was signed by the king or his advisor, it bore the royal seal and was carried by a contingent of the king’s royal guard. Ewan was compelled to obey, despite the fact that the accusations were laughable and an insult to his honor.

“Ewan, what has happened?” Alaric demanded.

The king’s messenger eyed Ewan warily as he shoved his goblet aside. “Will you be penning a response, Laird?”

Ewan’s lip curled and he barely restrained his urge to wrap his hands around the man’s neck. Only his knowledge that it was hardly fair to slay the messenger for the words of another kept him from venting his rage.

“You may bear my response back verbally. Tell our liege that I will come.”

The messenger stood and, with a bow, signaled his men and beat a hasty retreat.

The hall was empty, save Ewan and his brothers. Ewan closed his eyes and brought his fist down on the table with a resounding crack.

“Ewan?” Caelen’s concern was sharp, as both he and Alaric leaned forward in their seats.

“I’ve been summoned to court,” Ewan began. He still couldn’t believe the contents of the missive.

“To court? Why?” Alaric demanded.

“To answer charges of abduction and rape. Duncan Cameron has taken his suit to the king and claimed that he married Mairin, consummated the marriage, and I abducted and abused her sorely. He put in a claim for Mairin’s dowry that predated my own, and now he demands the return of his wife and the immediate release of her dowry.”

“What?”

Both Caelen and Alaric roared their outrage.

“I’m to bring Mairin to court, where the king will decide the matter.”

“What are you going to do?” Caelen asked.

“I’m sure as hell not taking my wife anywhere Duncan Cameron is in residence. She’ll remain here under strict guard while I travel to court.”

“What do you want us to do?” Alaric asked tightly.

“I need you to watch over Mairin. I trust you with her life. I’ll take a contingent of my men with me but the bulk of my army will remain here. Mairin’s safety is paramount. She’s more vulnerable than ever now that she carries my child.”

“But, Ewan, these charges are serious. If the king doesn’t rule in your favor you’ll face stiff sanctions. Possibly
even a death sentence, since Mairin is the king’s niece,” Caelen said. “You need more support. If you leave the majority of your army here, it puts you at a disadvantage.”

“Perhaps it would be best if you took Mairin with you,” Alaric quietly suggested.

“And expose her to Cameron?” Ewan snarled.

Caelen’s lips tightened. “We would go with the might of the McCabe clan behind us. We may not be as large an army as Cameron’s, but he’s already suffered one crippling defeat against us, and he has to know, judging by the way he tucked tail and ran like the bastard coward he is, that he’d commit suicide by challenging us to a fair fight.”

“ ’Tis too convenient that you’re summoned away, Ewan,” Alaric added. “It divides our might. If you go with too little protection, you could be ambushed and killed on your way to court. If you take too much, it leaves the keep vulnerable and Mairin as well.”

Ewan considered Alaric’s words. As much as it pained him, after his initial vehemence over taking Mairin anywhere Duncan Cameron would be in attendance wore off, he knew that the best course was not to let Mairin out of his sight. If he went, so would she, and he’d carry the might of the entire McCabe clan.

“You’re right. I’m too angry to think straight,” Ewan said wearily. “I will call on the McDonalds and the McLaurens to provide troops to protect the keep in our absence. Mairin needs to be close so I can see to her protection at all times. I don’t like to think of her traveling now that she is with child.”

“We can take a slower pace and bring a litter so that she is comfortable,” Caelen suggested.

Ewan nodded, and then he remembered snarling at Mairin to leave him, when she’d asked him what was
amiss. He’d been so furious that he’d needed a moment to process the ludicrous charges that had been laid out against him.

“Jesu,” he muttered. “I must find Mairin and explain. I fair bit her head off before she left the hall, and now I must tell her that we have to travel to court to answer a summons from the king. Our future depends on the whim of our king. Her dowry. Neamh Álainn. My child. My wife. Everything could be taken away in a moment.”

Alaric raised an eyebrow and exchanged glances with Caelen. “Are you going to allow that?”

Ewan pinned his brothers with the full intensity of the emotion brewing in his chest. “Nay. I’ll send missives to the McLaurens, to the McDonalds, and to Laird Douglas to the north. I want them to be ready for war.”

Mairin paced the floor of her chamber until she was ready to scream her frustration. What had the message from the king contained? Ewan had been furious. She’d never seen him so angry, not even when Heath had struck her.

She was so sick with worry that for the first time in a fortnight, her stomach seized and nausea rose in her throat. She sank onto the stool in front of the fire and gripped the goblet of water that Maddie had brought up moments before. She sipped the liquid in an effort to settle her stomach, but the tension was knotted too thickly.

As soon as the water went down, her stomach lurched and she stumbled toward the chamber pot, retching the liquid right back up. She registered the door opening and closing, but she was too embroiled in her current misery.

“Ah, sweeting, I’m sorry.”

Ewan’s hands soothed up her back and her stomach convulsed painfully. He gathered her hair at her nape
and put his palm over her belly in an effort to soothe her.

Sweat poured from her forehead and she sagged into Ewan’s arms as she finally stopped the horrible gagging. He stroked her hair and held her tightly against him. He pressed a kiss to her temple, and she felt the roll of tension flash through his body.

She turned, so worried that for a moment she had to battle back the urge to heave again.

“Ewan, what is it?” she whispered. “I’m so scared.”

He palmed her face and stared down at her, his green eyes flashing. “I’m sorry I yelled at you in the hall. I was greatly unsettled by the contents of the missive and I took out my anger—and fright—on you. It was unfair.”

She shook her head, unconcerned with his earlier outburst. It had been obvious that he had been upset over the news, whatever it was.

“What was in the message?” she asked again.

Ewan sighed and leaned forward until his forehead touched hers. “First I want you to know that everything is going to be all right.”

That statement only worried her all the more.

“We’ve been summoned to court.”

She frowned. “But why?”

“Duncan Cameron launched a claim for your dowry before my request was received by the king.”

Her mouth fell open. “On what grounds?”

“There’s more, Mairin,” he said softly. “He claims you were married, that he bedded you, and that I stole you away and sorely abused you.”

Mairin’s eyes went wide with outrage. Her mouth opened and shut as she tried to gather an appropriate response.

“When he learns you carry a child, he’ll claim he fathered the babe.”

Mairin clutched her belly, suddenly terrified as the implications
hit her. Ewan had been summoned to answer to those charges. The king would decide the matter. What if he decided against Ewan?

The idea that she would be handed over to Duncan Cameron sent her straight back to the chamber pot. Ewan held her, murmuring words of love and reassurance as she was sick all over again.

When she was done, he scooped her in his arms and carried her to their bed. He gathered her close in his arms and cradled her against his chest as they lay on their sides.

She was terrified. Utterly terrified.

He tipped up her chin until their gazes were locked. “I want you to listen to me, Mairin. No matter what happens, I will never hand you over to Duncan Cameron. Do you understand?”

“You can’t go against the king, Ewan,” she whispered.

“The hell I can’t. No one takes my wife and child from me. I’ll fight God himself, and be assured, Mairin, I won’t lose.”

She wrapped her arms around Ewan’s waist and laid her head on his chest. “Love me, Ewan. Hold me tight and love me.”

He rolled until he was atop her, staring down into her eyes. “I’ll always love you, Mairin. King and Duncan Cameron be damned. I’ll never let you go.”

He made sweet, fierce love to her, drawing out their pleasure until Mairin was senseless, until she knew nothing other than his love. Until she believed the words he’d uttered so fiercely.

“I won’t let you go,” he vowed as she fell apart in his arms. He found his own completion and cradled her to his chest, whispering his love for her and their child.

“I have bad news, Laird,” Gannon said in a grim voice.

Not liking his commander’s tone, Ewan looked up with a frown as Gannon strode toward him, still dusty from his travel.

“Did you bring Father McElroy?” Ewan demanded. Time was of the essence. Ewan had sent Gannon to fetch the priest so that he could bear witness to the wedding ceremony performed for Ewan and Mairin. They only awaited the priest’s arrival before they departed for court.

“He’s dead,” Gannon bit out.

“Dead?”

“Murdered.”

Blasphemies spewed from Ewan’s lips. “When?”

“Two days past. He was traveling between McLauren land and McGregor land to the south when he was set upon by thieves. They left him to rot and he was discovered by McGregor soldiers the next day.”

Ewan closed his eyes. Thieves? Not likely. Priests had nothing to steal. A thief wouldn’t have bothered. It was more likely that Cameron had arranged for the priest’s murder to prevent his testimony before the king.

The one card that Ewan held was the fact that Mairin
was David’s niece, and surely he would listen to her accounting of the events. Women weren’t heard in such matters, but Ewan couldn’t imagine the king ignoring the word of his own blood.