He’d given her an entire fortnight in which he bullied her into resting, showered her with affection—privately, of course—and the loving … Ah, the lass had quickly recovered and Ewan had spent each night driving her, and himself, mad with pleasure.
Yet she’d never spoken of loving him. She was free with her compliments, he had to give her that much. She told him in the sweetest tones that he was handsome, bold, arrogant … though he wasn’t certain that she meant all of these as compliments.
She was certainly impressed with his skills at loving, and she’d developed some of her own that he still hadn’t fully recovered from.
She had to love him. He couldn’t countenance that she felt only passing affection for him. She sure as hell wasn’t obedient, nor was she particularly respectful. But he saw the way she looked at him when she thought he wasn’t watching. He saw how she fell apart in his arms night after night in the darkness of their chamber.
Aye, she loved him. There was no other explanation. He just had to get her to see it.
The poisoning had made Mairin more wary, and as much as Ewan liked that she took his requests seriously, he did miss their fiery exchanges—usually spawned when she disregarded an order. He didn’t like that Mairin’s spontaneous charm had been curtailed by her near death.
Only Ewan, his brothers, and Gannon, Cormac, and Diormid knew the truth. That Mairin hadn’t been the intended victim. There were many reasons for Ewan to keep the information to himself.
One, his clan had become fiercely protective of Mairin since the incident. They all looked after her with a keen eye, and she was never alone. That suited Ewan’s purposes perfectly, because whether someone was trying to kill Mairin or not, she still faced the threat that was Duncan Cameron.
Two, he had no desire for Mairin to worry, and if she found out that Ewan was the intended victim, not once but twice, there was no telling what the lass might do. Ewan had discovered in a short time that she was fierce in her protection of those she considered hers.
And the lass did consider Ewan hers, much to Ewan’s smug satisfaction. She may not have given him the words he wanted to hear, but there was no denying her possessiveness when it came to him. He remembered well the look she’d given him when Rionna McDonald had been introduced.
He looked forward to the day when they would be free of threats. The shadow hanging over the keep had affected not just Mairin, but everyone. Mairin … well, Ewan hadn’t had a single report of her causing a ruckus since she’d gotten up from her sickbed.
He should have known that wouldn’t last …
“Laird, you must come quickly!” Owain said as he ran up to Ewan.
The younger man panted as he came to a stop. It looked as if he’d run the entire way from where he came.
Ewan turned from the sheepherder, who was giving him a detailed accounting of McCabe stocks, and frowned.
“What is amiss, Owain?”
“ ’Tis Lady McCabe. The entire hall is in an uproar. She’s ordered a group of your men to take over the women’s duties!”
“What?” Ewan demanded. Then he put his fingers to the bridge of his nose and took in a deep breath. “Tell me exactly what goes on, Owain.”
“Heath angered her but I don’t know what transpired, Laird. She’s ordered him and the group of men with him to do the washing! And the cooking! God help us all. And cleaning the kitchens and the floors …”
Owain broke off, winded, and then plowed forward again. “They’re all ready to revolt because your brothers can’t control the lass.”
Ewan frowned and swore under his breath. Heath was a hotheaded young soldier who’d only recently come to the McCabes. He was a bastard son of Laird McKinley—one of many—who’d been unacknowledged by his father before the laird’s death. The result was that he had no home. Ewan had gathered such men over the years, adding to his numbers when so many of his own clan had been eliminated by Duncan Cameron’s attack.
Ewan had already had problems with Heath and a group of younger, cocky, arrogant soldiers who had allied themselves with Heath shortly after his arrival.
They’d been disciplined before, and Ewan had already decided that it would be his last effort to turn them into McCabe warriors.
If Heath was involved, it couldn’t be good. Match him to Ewan’s equally hotheaded wife and an explosion was sure to follow.
“Where are my brothers?” Ewan demanded.
“They’re with Lady McCabe in the hall. ’Tis a very tense situation, Laird. There was a moment that I feared for the safety of Lady McCabe.”
That was all Ewan needed to hear. He ran for the hall, and as he rounded the corner into the courtyard, he saw all of his men, who had been out training, standing still, their heads cocked as they listened to the din coming from inside the keep.
Ewan shoved past them, vaulted up the steps, and barged into the hall.
The scene before him was chaos. A group of younger soldiers was across the room, surrounded by Ewan’s brothers and Mairin and Gertie.
Cormac and Diormid were being roundly scolded by Gertie. Gertie was so riled that she shook a spoon at the two men and managed to hit them with it about every third stroke. Alaric and Caelen both wore expressions of fury as they sought to place Mairin behind them. But she was having none of it.
What caught Ewan’s attention, however, was Mairin, who stood in the middle of the fray, her face so red from anger that she looked fair to exploding. She was on tiptoe, shouting insults at Heath from around Gannon, who was also valiantly trying to keep her at a distance.
Heath’s face was purple with rage. The lass had no idea the danger she’d put herself in. But Ewan knew. He’d witnessed the younger man’s brash temper more than once. Ewan had already started across the room when he saw Heath raise his hand.
Ewan let out a roar, drew his sword, and launched himself over the remaining space. Mairin ducked, but Heath’s fist still grazed her jaw as she turned away. She went flying back just as Ewan slammed into Heath.
If Caelen and Alaric hadn’t pinned both Ewan’s arms back, he would have killed the younger man on the spot. As it was, Heath lay sprawled on the floor, blood dripping from his mouth.
Ewan twisted in their grip but they wouldn’t let him go. “Leave off!” he roared.
They wrestled him back several paces before he finally managed to break their hold. He yanked his arm away and went to where Mairin was picking herself up off the floor.
He caught her elbow and helped her to her feet. Then he cupped her chin and turned it up so he could see her jaw.
“He barely touched me,” Mairin whispered. “Truly, Ewan, it doesn’t pain me at all.”
Fury sizzled over his skin. “He had no right to touch you at all! He’ll die for this offense.”
He dropped his hand from her face and then turned to fix the rest of the room with his glare. “Can someone tell me what in God’s name is going on?”
Everyone started talking at once. Ewan closed his eyes and then roared for silence. He turned to Mairin. “You tell me what happened here.”
She glanced down at her hands but not before he saw the betraying quiver of her lip.
“I’ll tell you, Laird,” Diormid said loudly as he stepped forward. “She ordered Heath, Robert, Corbin, Ian, and Matthew to take on the tasks of the women.” The disbelief and outrage Diormid felt on behalf of his men was evident. “She instructed them all to do the cooking and the cleaning and the scrubbing of the floors!”
Ewan watched as Mairin’s expression went flat. Her lips drew into a thin line, and then she simply turned away and would have walked out of the hall if Ewan hadn’t quickly caught hold of her arm to prevent her departure.
“Lass?” he asked pointedly.
Her chin wobbled, and she blinked furiously. “You’ll just yell, Laird, and I have no desire to be humiliated again in front of my clan.”
“Tell me what happened,” he said in a stern voice. He was determined that he not show weakness in front of his men. What he wanted to do was pull her into his arms and kiss those trembling lips. She was on the verge of tears, and he’d do damn near anything to prevent her crying.
But what he had to do was be fair and disciplined. He had a duty to everyone involved to be fair and impartial, which meant that if his wife had hatched another of her hare-brained schemes, he was destined to make her cry.
Her chin went up, which relieved him. He far preferred her belligerence to her tears.
She pointed at Heath. “That … That idiot struck Christina.”
Ewan stiffened and jerked around to see Heath helped to his feet by Diormid.
“Is this true?” Ewan asked in a low voice.
“The bitch was impertinent,” Heath growled. “She deserved my reprimand.”
Mairin gasped in outrage. She would have flown at Heath again but Ewan caught her by the waist and yanked her to his chest. Her feet kicked at his ankles but he wouldn’t let her go. He turned to Alaric and thrust Mairin into his arms.
“Do not let her go,” Ewan ordered.
Alaric wrapped his arm around her waist and simply held her against his chest, her feet inches from the floor. Mairin looked outraged, but Ewan was more interested in Heath’s explanation.
He turned back to Heath once more and pinned him with the full force of his stare. “You will tell me everything.”
Mairin struggled in Alaric’s arms but he held her fast. “Ewan, please,” she pleaded. “I would tell you all that happened.”
She was beyond furious. She was so sickened by the men’s treatment of the serving women that she was ready to take Ewan’s sword and gut them all. If she could lift it, she’d do just that.
She turned to Alaric when Ewan continued to ignore her. “Alaric, may I borrow your sword?”
Alaric raised a startled brow. “Lass, you couldn’t lift my sword.”
“You could help me. Please, Alaric, I’ve a need to shed some blood.”
To her surprise, he laughed outright, the sound loud in the quiet room.
Tears of frustration pricked her eyes. “Please, Alaric, ’tis not right what he did. And now he’ll make excuses to Ewan for his disgraceful behavior, for all their behavior.”
Alaric’s gaze softened. “Ewan will take care of this, lass. He is a fair man.”
“But he’s a man,” she persisted.
Alaric shot her a puzzled look. “Aye, I just said so.”
Before Ewan could again demand an explanation from Heath, the hall erupted once more. Women poured into the room, their cries rivaling that of any warrior. To Mairin’s astonishment, they held an assortment of makeshift weapons, from pitchforks and sticks to rocks and daggers.
Ewan’s mouth gaped open just as Alaric finally let Mairin loose from his grasp. She landed with a thump on the floor and cast a disgruntled glare in Alaric’s direction. But he, like every other man, turned to stare in astonishment as the women converged on them.
“Lass, are you all right?” Bertha demanded from the front of the crowd of women.
Christina hurried over to Mairin, grabbed her hand, then gestured for Maddie before pulling Mairin to the assembled women.
Mairin squeezed Christina’s hand as she stared at the darkening bruise on Christina’s cheek. “Are you all right?” Mairin whispered.
Christina smiled. “Aye, thanks to you, my lady.”
“Laird, we be wanting a word from you,” Bertha bellowed.
She waved her pitchfork for emphasis as Ewan continued to stare at the women in astonishment.
“What the hell is going on?” Ewan demanded. “Has the entire world gone mad?”
“Your men behaved reprehensibly,” Mairin said.
The women voiced their agreement by waving their weapons and stomping their feet. Ewan’s men looked as if they didn’t know whether to be afraid or angry.
Ewan folded his arms over his chest and looked sternly at her. “What did they do, lass?”
Mairin glanced at the other women, drawing courage from their support. Then she jutted out her chin and pinned the laird with her best impression of his scowl. It must have been a worthy impression because he lifted an eyebrow as he stared back at her.
“The women were all doing their duties, just as you expect the men to do. That idiot over there decided to test his charms on Christina and the lass refused him. He was so furious over the rejection that he began to criticize her work. You see, she was serving the soldiers their afternoon meal. Thus began an effort to belittle and demean the work of every woman in this keep. They made jests and grew louder and louder in their criticism. They bellowed at Maddie when the food wasn’t served soon enough. They complained about Gertie’s preparation when they felt the food was not savory enough or it was too cold.”
She drew in a long breath before she spilled forth the rest of her ire.
“And when Christina sought to diffuse the situation, Heath tripped her. She spilled ale everywhere and then he had the nerve to chasten her for ruining his clothing. When she protested, he slapped her.”
Mairin’s hands curled in fury as she stepped forward, her entire body shaking with rage. She pointed at the group comprised of Heath, Robert, Corbin, Ian, and Matthew. “And not one, not one of them stepped in to help her. Not one! No one moved a finger to stop his abuse of Christina. They were too busy laughing and criticizing women’s work.”
She stopped in front of the laird and poked her finger into his chest. “Well, I say if ’tis so easy and the men are so critical, they can take over the women’s duties for the day and we’ll see how well they perform the women’s tasks.”
She held her breath and waited for Ewan to denounce her.
“I would speak, Laird!” Bertha yelled out, her voice so loud that more than one woman winced.
“You may speak,” Ewan said.
“I’ll not go overlong with my comments, but hear this. As of this moment, the women are not lifting a finger in this keep. And we’re keeping Lady McCabe!”
Ewan lifted his brow again. “You’re keeping her?”
Bertha nodded. “Aye, she’s going with us. We’ll not have her chastised for her defense of us.”
To Mairin’s surprise, he smiled.
“There’s a bit of a problem with that, Bertha.”
“And what is that?” Bertha demanded.
“I’m keeping her.”
That statement caused a series of murmurs to race through the hall. Both the men and the women leaned forward, curious as to which way the laird would rule. It was clear he was displeased.
“I will not be swayed by blackmail and demands,” he said.
When Bertha puffed out her chest and prepared to launch into another angry tirade, he held up a hand to silence her.
“I will hear what both sides have to say before I render judgment. Once I do, the matter will be final. Is that clear?”
“Only if you decide the right way,” Mairin muttered.
Ewan shot her a quelling look.
The laird turned and it was the truth that he didn’t look pleased as he stared at Heath and the four younger men who stood defiantly by his side. Then he looked to Gannon, who was the most senior of all his men.
“Have you an explanation for this?”
Gannon sighed. “I’m sorry, Laird. I was not present. I was in the courtyard with some of the other soldiers. I had informed them they wouldn’t eat until they performed their maneuvers correctly.”
“I see.” He turned to Cormac, who stood to the side of Diormid and Heath. “Cormac? Have you anything to offer?”
Cormac looked furious. He glanced between the men, who stared expectantly at him, and Ewan, who also awaited his word.
“ ’Tis as our mistress reported, Laird,” he said through tight lips. “I came into the hall just as Heath tripped Christina.” Anger rippled across Cormac’s face as he glanced over at Heath. “ ’Twas not Christina’s fault. The men grew louder with their insults and when Christina offered disagreement, Heath struck her. ’Tis God’s truth I would have killed him myself, but Lady McCabe intervened before I could act, and then my foremost concern was her safety.”
Ewan nodded his agreement over Cormac’s assessment, then looked over to where Diormid stood beside Heath. “And do you defend his actions?”
Diormid looked torn in his loyalty to the young men directly under his command. “Nay, Laird. ’Twas not the tale as he told it to me.”
“So you weren’t present for the happenings?” Ewan asked.
Diormid shook his head. “I entered the hall as Lady McCabe was issuing orders for the men to take over the women’s duties for the day.”
“And do you commend his actions? Do you stand by them?” Ewan asked.
Diormid hesitated before finally saying, “Nay, Laird. I am shamed by them.”
Then Ewan turned to Bertha. “You may take the women and retire to your cottages. Or however else you’d like to spend your day of leisure. Robert, Corbin, Ian, and Matthew will see to your duties.”
Mairin frowned at the omission of Heath, but the cheers from the women prevented her from voicing her displeasure.
Equally explosive were the shouts of dismay from the four Ewan had sentenced to the women’s work. They looked so appalled that it was all Mairin could do not to smile her satisfaction.
Bertha beamed at Mairin. “Come, lass, you must celebrate with us.”
Mairin turned to leave the hall with the women when Ewan cleared his throat. Slowly she turned around and peeked up at the laird. Surely he wasn’t angry with her. Not after having heard the full story.
His expression was still stern as he crooked his finger at her. With a sigh, she left Bertha to go to her husband. The women remained in the hall, either curious over what the laird wanted or to defend Mairin from reprimand. Mairin wasn’t sure, but she was grateful for their support.
When she was a respectable distance, she stopped and folded her hands in front of her. “You wanted me?”
He crooked his finger again, and she huffed as she moved even closer. He stretched out his finger and touched her chin, prodding until she was looking directly up at him.
“You have instructions for me, Laird?”
“Aye, lass, I do.”
She cocked her head farther back and waited for his order.
His fingers trailed over her chin to her jaw where Heath’s fist had grazed her. Then he delved into the hair over her ear, his hand cupping the back of her head in his possessive grasp.
“Kiss me.”