Never Love a Highlander (McCabe Trilogy 3)

“You are an odd woman, Rionna McDonald. Or should I say McCabe?”

Rionna bolted to her feet, drew her sword, and leveled it at Cameron in a show of bravado she hoped impressed him or further convinced him she was just daft enough to want her husband dead. She was so desperate at this point, she was grasping for straws and she well knew it.

“I’ll not be called by that name,” she hissed.

He pushed aside the blade of her sword as if it were nothing more than a pesky fly. “And I’ll not have a female brandishing her sword at me in my own home.”

He motioned her back to her seat and then turned to glance at Gregor McDonald, who stood on Rionna’s other side.

“You have me curious, Rionna. What did Caelen McCabe do to draw your ire?”

She glanced at her father, knowing that it was here that he would be convinced and he would lend credibility to her tale, no matter how absurd it sounded to Cameron.

“He insisted I act and dress as a female. He took my sword from me and forbade me to pick it back up. He mocked and humiliated me at every turn. He … He sorely abused me.”

Cameron chuckled and then glanced at her father. “What manner of woman did you raise, Gregor?”

“She thinks herself a lad,” Gregor said in disgust. “Nothing I ever did made her act and dress as she should. I washed my hands of her years ago. ’Tis the truth he probably bedded her and this is the source of his ‘abuse.’ ”

Cameron’s gaze swept lingeringly over her body in a manner that made her grateful she’d bound her br**sts. He looked for sign that she was indeed womanly, but in her current manner of dress, she looked lean and shapeless, just as a young lad would.

She shivered at the lust in his eyes. In spite of, or perhaps because of, her eccentricities, Cameron looked upon her like he’d like nothing more than to tumble her to the ground for a quick rut. Or perhaps ’twas because he coveted what Caelen had already had. Trying to discern the mind of a man was impossible.

But he turned instead and waved an arrogant hand to one of his men. “Bring Caelen McCabe up from the dungeon. His wife seeks a reunion.”

The knot in her belly grew and fear nearly paralyzed her. She would have to act quick in order to convince Cameron and her father that all she’d said was true. It hurt her to do what she must. It would be the hardest thing she’d ever do, but she had to convince Caelen that she loathed the very sight of him and wanted his death.

All the while she waited, she steeled herself for the sight of her husband. She knew he was injured. He might be near death even now. She couldn’t react, not as a horrified wife.

Rionna wanted to weep. She was beyond exhausted and she was more afraid than she’d ever been in her life.

When they shoved Caelen into the hall, he fell to his knees and she could see his hands were secured behind his back. Before he could look up, she was on her feet. She stalked across the room but just as she reached him, he lifted his gaze to her.

Shock registered in his eyes and he parted his mouth as if about to speak. So she did the only thing she knew to silence him.

She reared back and slapped him as hard as she could across one cheek.

CHAPTER 31

Caelen’s neck snapped back and he barely managed to stay on his knees. He whipped his head back around to stare at his wife. His wife. She stood before him, her eyes spitting fury, while Cameron and Gregor stood behind her looking faintly amused.

“Are you mad?” he demanded. “What are you doing?”

“I’m here to see you die,” she hissed. “If God is willing and with Laird Cameron’s permission, I aim to do the killing myself. ’Twould give me great pleasure to rid myself of you, Caelen McCabe.”

He heard her words. He saw the very real anger in her eyes. But he couldn’t make sense of any of it. Dread crept into his chest until it pained him more than the arrow wound in his back.

It couldn’t be happening again. He couldn’t countenance history repeating itself in such a bizarre manner.

Duncan Cameron came up behind Rionna and slid a hand over her shoulder. “Your wife is here to see you, Caelen. Isn’t that thoughtful of her? She says she wants to be your executioner. What think you of that?”

Before Caelen could muster a response—what could he possibly say to that?—Cameron turned Rionna, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her savagely.

Cold rage seared over Caelen’s body. He could no longer feel the pain of his wound. All he felt was overwhelming fury. His mind was muddled enough that he still couldn’t comprehend the whole of it, but what stared him in the face was betrayal.

Again.

Rionna yanked away from Cameron, slapped him soundly across the face as she’d done to Caelen, and then went for her sword. Cameron grabbed her arm and hauled her up close.

“I’ve already been abused by one man. I’ll not suffer it at the hands of another,” Rionna spat.

Caelen’s brows went up. “Abuse? Is that what you call it, wife?”

Rionna glanced at Caelen, her beautiful, deceitful eyes flashing scornfully. She looked back to Cameron and pulled at her arm. Then she stilled and stared intently into Cameron’s eyes. “You doubt me. ’Twas a test. You doubt that I’m here because I seek the death of the McCabe warrior.”

She wrested her arms from his grip and reached into the folds of her cloak to draw out a scroll. Even from where he knelt, Caelen could see two seals. One was his brother’s. The other belonged to the king.

“I brought this. Know you what this is, Laird Cameron? ’Tis a call to arms from Ewan McCabe. In it are likely detailed battle plans. All you need to know of the coming war. Would I give this to you if ’twas all a trick?”