Never Love a Highlander (McCabe Trilogy 3)

“Have you any luck in training the McDonald soldiers?”

Caelen sighed. “They work hard and are diligent in their efforts. ’Tis not that they aren’t worthy soldiers. They’ve just not had proper training until now. ’Tis hard to correct years’ worth of inefficiency in a few week’s time.”

Ewan clapped his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “If anyone can do it, you can. I have every faith in your ability to fashion your men into a formidable army of warriors.”

“How does Alaric fare?”

“He’s taken over the duties of laird as if he were born to the position. The clan is in good hands. He will be a good laird and Keeley will be a credit to him.”

“ ’Tis good that he is happy,” Caelen murmured.

Ewan glanced sharply at his younger brother. “And you, Caelen? Are you well satisfied with your marriage and your position as laird?”

Caelen thought for a moment. He hadn’t stopped to analyze whether or not he was well content with his new wife and clan. There had been too much to tend to. Was he happy? Before, his happiness hadn’t come into the picture. It mattered not whether he was happy. It only mattered that the alliance would be kept and that he would be able to aid his brother in the fight against Duncan Cameron.

Happy?

He frowned.

“ ’Twas not a trick question I was putting to you,” Ewan said dryly.

“It matters not if I’m happy. What matters is that we have the might to destroy Cameron. I have more reason than ever to want his blood.”

“Aye, you do,” Ewan agreed. “We all do. He’s brought much harm to our clans. To our wives.”

“He killed our father.”

Ewan sighed. “You cannot still blame yourself for that, Caelen.”

“ ’Tis not a martyr I make of myself. I was young and foolish and we all paid the price. The signs were there for me to see but I purposely blinded myself to them. Our clan paid the price. We lost our father and you lost your wife. Crispen lost his mother.”

“I have never blamed you,” Ewan said in a low voice. “Not once. If Elsepeth hadn’t done the deed, Cameron would have found another way.”

Impatient with recounting the past, Caelen waved his hand dismissively. He didn’t like to dwell on just how young and stupid he’d been. Elsepeth had found an easy mark in him. She’d turned his head, seduced him, and kept him under her spell. He would have done anything for her.

He’d loved her.

He still winced when he made that admission, but he made it freely to remind himself of his past sins. It was a mistake he wouldn’t make again. Dealing with a woman required a clear head, one unclouded by emotions.

“Are you up for a little exercise, or has marriage and fatherhood made you soft?” Caelen challenged.

Ewan’s eyes glittered. “Are you prepared to be humiliated in front of your men?”

Caelen snorted. “You can certainly try, old man.”

Rionna stretched languidly and smiled even before she opened her eyes. ’Twas a wonderful morning. Her feet were toasty warm and she had no desire to get up from bed.

Then she opened her eyes and blinked sleepily as she gave another lazy stretch. She turned on her side and her gaze rested on a pair of leather boots on the floor next to the bed.

She blinked more rapidly and sat up, clutching the covers to her br**sts.

New boots. Not just newly fashioned, but fur-lined.

And beside them, was a neatly folded fur-lined cloak with a hood.

Her feet hit the floor and she dove toward the treasures. She grabbed one boot and turned it over and over, inspecting the fine stitching and craftsmanship. Then she plunged her hand inside and sighed at the luxurious feel of the warm fur.

With a delighted squeal, she clutched the boots and the cloak to her chest and danced around the room.

She stopped in front of the fire and buried her face in the soft fur. What a wonderful, wonderful thing for Caelen to do. How had he laid hands on such fine things?

Not able to wait a minute longer to try them on, she hurriedly donned her gown and then sat on the bed as she pulled her boots on.

She closed her eyes and sighed idiotically as her heel slid into the boot. She stood and paced about the chamber, testing the feel and the size. They fit her perfectly. Not too big and not even a pinch too small.

She ran to the window and threw aside the fur then stuck her head out. Snowflakes drifted lazily from the sky and collected on the ground below. ’Twas a perfect day to try out her new treasures.

With a grin, she spun around, donned the cloak, and hurried out of her chamber.

’Twas remiss of her to not even check the hall to see if her guests were in attendance, but she didn’t care. Caelen would be outdoors with the men, as he was every day, and he was the one she wanted to see.

Her boots crunched over the snow but no dampness seeped into her toes nor did any hint of cold grip her feet.

Caelen stood with his brother and ’twas obvious the two were set to spar. She was too excited to consider whether ’twas appropriate for her to interrupt.

“Caelen!” she called as she approached.

As soon as he turned in the direction of her voice, she launched herself at him. So surprised was he that he stumbled back even as he caught her against him and they both tumbled into the snow.

“God’s teeth, woman, whatever is the matter? Is someone hurt?”

She sat astride him, grinning so big that her cheeks hurt. She leaned down, framed his face in her hands, and proceeded to pepper his face with kisses. Then she fused her lips to his in a hot, lusty kiss that certainly had her toes curling in her new boots.