In Bed with a Highlander (McCabe Trilogy 1)

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.”