In Bed with a Highlander (McCabe Trilogy 1)

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.

Chapter 33

“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 airin. 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.

“Ready our horses and the men,” Ewan ordered his brothers. “I’ll go tell Mairin we’re to leave posthaste.”

Two hours later, with the arrival of McDonald and McLauren men to fortify the McCabe keep, Ewan and his men set off. Mairin rode in front of Ewan. A litter was carried at the end in case she wearied of the horse, but until such time came, Ewan wanted her as close to him as possible.

The clansmen gathered to see them off, worry marring each of their faces. The farewell was somber and tense, and prayers were whispered for the safe return of their laird and his lady.

They didn’t travel as hard as Ewan might have in other circumstances. They stopped for the night before dusk fell and set up the tents and built several fires around the perimeter.

Ewan posted guards in turns around the area, as well as outside his and Mairin’s tent. Mairin didn’t sleep well, nor did she eat well. She was nervous and on edge, and the closer they got to Carlisle Castle, the deeper the shadows were under her eyes.

Ewan’s men were just as tense and silent, as if they were mentally preparing for war. Ewan couldn’t dispute that they might very well be going to war. Not just against Cameron, but against the crown.

Such an action would brand them as outlaws for the rest of their days. Life hadn’t been easy for the McCabes these last eight years, but it would only get worse once there was a price on their heads.

On the fifth day of their journey, Ewan sent Diormid ahead to announce their impending arrival and also to find out if Cameron had already arrived and what the mood was at court.

They paused in their travel and Ewan coaxed Mairin to eat while they awaited Diormid’s return.

“I don’t want you to worry,” he murmured.

She raised her head until her gaze met his and her blue eyes shone with love. “I have faith in you, Ewan.”

Ewan turned when he heard a rider approaching. He left Mairin to greet Diormid who’d returned from the castle.

His face was set into a grim line. “I have instructions from the king’s man. You’re to leave your men outside the walls of the castle. You and Mairin are to be escorted inside at which point Mairin will be placed under the protection of the king until the situation has been resolved. You will have your own quarters until you are called to give testimony.”

“And Cameron?” Ewan demanded.

“Also housed in separate quarters. Mairin is to be held in the king’s private wing under heavy guard.”