Seduction of a Highland Lass (McCabe Trilogy 2)

Mairin McCabe fidgeted on the hard bench for the hundredth time and worked valiantly to control the yawn that threatened to crack her jaw. Her husband listened politely as Gregor McDonald recounted his tales of valor, also for the hundredth time, but Mairin’s focus was on Alaric and Rionna.

The couple hadn’t spoken more than a few words the entire dinner. It concerned Mairin that Alaric was so inattentive, and yet Rionna seemed perfectly satisfied for her future husband to say nothing.

The few times Mairin tried to draw Rionna into conversation, she was met with stubborn silence. She knew the girl to be friendlier, at least when the women were alone. Rionna had visited once already and the women had gotten along quite well together.

Alaric just looked … unhappy. Oh, he was stoic enough, and no one else would be able to tell he was anything but the warrior he was. Mairin knew better. Alaric wasn’t as cold as Caelen and he didn’t tend to be as fierce as Ewan. He could always be counted on to fill the gap in conversation and he was a sociable enough person. Tonight he sat in stony silence, picking at his food as if he had no appetite.

Keeley was noticeably absent, though Mairin couldn’t blame her. It was enough to have to look upon the man she loved paying court to another woman, but the circumstances of Keeley’s departure from the McDonald clan were enough to keep her sequestered.

Mairin wanted nothing more than to march over and bash Laird McDonald’s head in with a serving platter. If she thought she could move fast enough to get past Ewan, she might well attempt it.

“You are about to fidget right off the bench,” Ewan said in a whisper. “What is amiss? Are you not feeling well?”

She glanced up at the concern—and exasperation—in her husband’s eyes. “I’m ready to retire. I can see myself up. You stay and continue your talks with Laird McDonald.”

Ewan frowned. “Nay, I’ll go up with you. It will give Alaric some time to talk with the laird—and Rionna, should he choose.”

Not waiting for her to respond, Ewan turned to Laird McDonald and smoothly interrupted the conversation. “If you will excuse us, my lady wife is ready to retire. She tires easily these days and I do not like her going up to our chamber without me.”

Mairin couldn’t control her look of distaste when Laird McDonald’s eyes gleamed lasciviously. “Aye, I understand. If I had a wife as bonnie as yours, she’d not be retiring without me either.”

Mairin shuddered. Poor Keeley. How awful it must have been for her when she was but a girl. The man was a lecher. And he ate too much. Gertie hadn’t forgiven the man the last time he’d visited McCabe keep. Their stores hadn’t been as plentiful as they were now, and the laird had eaten them near out of the keep.

“Come, sweeting,” Ewan murmured as he helped her from her seat.

’Twas the truth she was weary, but then she was weary most days. There were times when she thought she’d carry this child to infinity. The bairn was particularly active at night. She and Ewan would lie in bed and quietly feel the tiny kicks and bumps.

She paused halfway up the stairs, already out of breath. Ewan steadied her and waited until she was ready to resume.

“I vow I’m going to be pregnant forever,” she complained as Ewan ushered her into their chamber.

Ewan smiled and helped her from her clothing. “It won’t be long now. Think how exciting it will be to finally hold our son or daughter.”

Mairin sighed. “I know it.”

As soon as she had on her nightdress, she sank onto the edge of the bed. Across the room Ewan undressed and she could feel his gaze upon her as he returned to the bed.

He sat beside her. “What is it, Mairin? You look worried. Is it the babe that has you afraid?”

She smiled faintly and turned to look up at him. “Nay, I have complete faith in Keeley.”

“Then what is it that has you so unhappy?”

“ ’Tis Keeley. And Alaric,” she blurted.

Ewan blew out his breath and started to turn away, but Mairin caught his arm.

“They’re unhappy, Ewan. Can’t you do anything?”

Ewan grimaced and touched Mairin’s cheek in a soothing gesture. “ ’Tis nothing I can do, sweeting. Too much rides on this alliance. Alaric is a man full grown. He’s made his decision.”

She huffed in exasperation. “But would he have made such a decision if our clan didn’t have need of this alliance so much? He’s a good man. He’d do anything for you. For the clan.”

“He has a chance to be laird,” Ewan pointed out. “A chance he’ll never gain if he remains here. This is an opportunity as much as it is a necessity that we gain this alliance.”

“Do we really need the McDonalds so much?” she asked incredulously. It didn’t seem logical that they’d need the much weaker clan with the might the McCabes wielded.

“There is more to it than fighting force,” Ewan said gently. “ ’Tis a matter of politics. The king wants this match. This cannot pass your lips, but we both fear that McDonald could turn to Cameron’s side and that would be disastrous, for he is all that lies between McCabe lands and Neamh Álainn.”

Mairin’s nose wrinkled. “Then ’tis more a strategic move than a need for his strength?”

Ewan nodded. “Add to that, there are still some clans who fear Cameron’s might and have held off allying themselves with either side for fear of retaliation should Cameron and Malcolm prove victorious in the bid for the throne and control of the highlands. We need to appear an invincible force. ’Tis a never-ending cycle. To lure others to our cause we must have the alliances of many clans.”