The Highlander Series (31 page)

She glared, or at least she thought she did. The room still seemed incredibly dark to her, and her eyelids felt like someone had laid stones over them. Sudden panic hit
her. Maybe they were preparing her for burial. Didn’t they put stones over the eyes of the dead to keep them closed? Or was that coins? Either way, she didn’t want to die.

“Shh, lass,” Ewan soothed. “Open your eyes. You can do it for me. No one is burying you, I swear it. Open your eyes and look at me. Let me see those beautiful blue eyes.”

It took all her might but she managed to crack her eyelids. She winced as sunlight speared through her head, and she promptly snapped her eyes shut again.

“Cover the window,” Ewan barked.

Mairin frowned. Who was he talking to? It was getting to be a regular occurrence for them to have visitors to their chamber.

She heard a chuckle and she opened her eyes only to see a fuzzy shape that resembled Ewan. She blinked rapidly and then looked beyond him to see Alaric and Caelen in front of the now covered window.

“ ’Tis good you returned home when you did, Alaric. Ewan would need you for the funeral.”

Alaric frowned. “Whose funeral, lass?”

“Mine,” she said.

She tried to lift her head but soon discovered that she was as weak as a newborn kitten.

Caelen laughed and Mairin turned to offer him a frown of displeasure.

She sniffed. “ ’Tis not a laughing matter. Ewan would be most displeased if I died.”

“Which is precisely why you aren’t going to do anything of the sort,” Ewan drawled.

She turned her head to look at Ewan again and was startled to see him look so … haggard. His hair was unkempt, his eyes were red, and he had what looked to be several days’ worth of beard growth on his jaw.

“I am ever obedient, husband. If you command me not to die, then I will of course not deny your wish.”

Ewan grinned and as he looked down at her she saw such relief in his eyes that her breath caught in her throat.

“ ’Tis a sin to lie, wife, but ’tis God’s truth that I don’t think He or I will mind this one untruth.”

She
hmmph
ed. “I try to be obedient.”

“Aye, lass, I did command you not to die, and it was very accommodating of you to obey me this once. I’m so pleased that I might consider not shouting at you the next time you see fit not to obey me.”

“The both of you are daft,” Caelen grumbled.

Alaric moved closer to the bed and reached to squeeze her hand. “Welcome back to the land of the living, little sister. You gave us all quite a scare.”

She laid her other hand over her stomach. “I feel no pain. ’Tis quite odd, really, but I’m hungry.”

Ewan laughed and then leaned down and pressed his lips against her forehead for the longest time. He trembled against her skin and smoothed his hand over her hair as he slowly drew away.

“You should be near to starving, lass. You’ve been abed three days and you emptied the contents of your stomach on day one.”

“Three days?” She was appalled. Utterly appalled.

“Aye, lass, three days.” His tone grew more serious and the lines reappeared in his face. He looked … tired.

She reached up to trace the lines at his brow and then let her fingers fall to his cheek. “You look tired, husband. I’m thinking you need a bath and a shave and then a long rest.”

He cupped his hand over hers, trapping it against his cheek. Then he turned his mouth inward and kissed her palm.

“Now that you’re awake, I will indeed sleep. But don’t be thinking that just because you’ve awakened that you’ll be scurrying all over the keep. You’ll stay abed until I say you can get up and not a moment before.”

She gave him a look of disgust but held her tongue. It wouldn’t do to start an argument with him the moment she awoke. After all, she could be accommodating on occasion.

Ewan laughed. “Aye, lass, it would appear that on occasion you can be very accommodating.”

“I really must learn to control my tongue better,” she muttered. “I can’t go about blurting out my every thought. Mother Serenity said I’d rue the day I ever began such a terrible habit. I’m thinking she has the right of it.”

Ewan leaned down and kissed her again. “I’m thinking your tongue is perfect.”

Both Caelen and Alaric laughed and Mairin was scandalized. “Ewan!”

Mortification tightened her cheeks and she yanked the blankets up to cover her head. Ewan joined in their laughter while she huddled there wishing the floor would open up and take them all.

Ewan eventually shooed everyone from their chamber and then ordered food brought up to them both. He sampled every bite of food himself before he passed it along to her.

In truth, it scared her spitless. She didn’t want him to die for her and she told him so.

He didn’t look impressed with her concern. “ ’Tis my duty to watch over you, lass.”

“And a fine job you’ll do if you die in the process,” she grumbled.

After they ate, she lay back on the pillow and closed her eyes. She really was quite weak, and it was the truth that the food didn’t settle all that well in her stomach. After three days of not eating, she supposed it was only natural.

She started when she heard the door open, and a parade of serving women came into the chamber bearing pails of hot water.

“I thought you might like a hot bath,” Ewan said.

In that moment she wanted to throw herself around him and hug him until he had no breath. And she would if she didn’t find that even moving her arms was incredibly taxing. So she lay there like a pile of useless flesh and watched with mounting excitement as steam rose from the almost-full tub.

When the last of the water was poured from the pails, Ewan bent over the bed and began to unlace the ties on her sleeping gown. She didn’t have enough energy to protest, not that it would have done her a bit of good anyway. Soon enough he had the gown off her body and he gently gathered her in his arms and carried her over to the tub.

He eased her down into the hot water, and she moaned in delight as the heat lapped over her body.

Instead of leaving her as she’d anticipated, he knelt beside the tub. He reached for the pitcher on the floor and filled it with water before pouring it down her back to wet her hair.

When his fingers dug into the strands to wash her hair, she closed her eyes at the simple pleasure of having him take care of her needs. She was weaker than she could have ever imagined she would have been after her ordeal, and she was grateful for his regard.

She moaned softly as he turned his attention to the washing of her body. He took his time, rubbing her shoulders and her arms. His hands plunged into the water and he cupped her breasts, rubbing his thumbs over the hard tips.

He didn’t tarry overlong but continued his relentless quest to wash every inch of her body. By the time he reached her feet, she was shivering with raw pleasure. He picked up one foot and water sluiced up her leg. Then he began a meticulous massage of each part of her foot, going from bottom to top. When he reached her
toes, she tried to jerk her foot away and shrieked at the tickling sensation.

He laughed but grabbed hold of her ankle so she didn’t slip away.

“I had no idea you were so ticklish, lass.”

He held her foot in both hands and ran his hands over her ankle and then, to her shock, he kissed the arch of her foot. He caressed a path up her leg, over her knee, and down to the juncture of her thighs.

His hands were like silk on her flesh. The combination of the soothing water and his heated caresses were a balm to her tattered senses.

He was thorough in his wash. No part of her went untouched. By the time he was done, she was limp, her vision hazy, and she was so lethargic that she couldn’t have risen from the tub if she’d wanted to.

Ewan picked her up and held her over the tub while the water rushed from her body. He set her by the fire and promptly wrapped a large blanket around her, tucking the ends between her breasts.

“As soon as your hair is dry, I’ll tuck you back into bed,” he said. “I don’t want you to get cold.”

Just when she couldn’t imagine being more shocked by his gentle regard, he began to dry her hair with one of the drying cloths. His hands worked through the strands and when he’d blotted the excess moisture from the heavy mass, he began to work a comb through the knots.

They sat in front of the fire, her nestled between his thighs, facing the blaze. He was exceedingly patient, pausing when he reached a particularly difficult snarl.

The warmth from the hearth wrapped around them until her skin glowed pink. Heat seeped into her bones and she found herself nodding off as he combed her hair.

When he was done, he set the comb aside and wrapped his arms tightly around her. He pressed his cheek against
the side of her head and rocked slightly as she stared into the glowing embers.

“You scared me, lass.”

She sighed and melted deeper into his embrace. “I scared myself, Laird. ’Tis the truth I had no liking of the thought of leaving you and Crispen.”

“Crispen slept in your bed each night you were ill. He on one side, I on the other. He was just as determined as I that you not die.”

She smiled. “ ’Tis nice to have family.”

“Aye, lass, it is. I think you and Crispen and I make a fine family.”

“Don’t forget Caelen and Alaric,” she said with a frown. “And Gannon, Cormac, and Diormid, of course. They do annoy me, but they have good intentions and they are ever so patient. Oh! And Maddie and Bertha and Christina.”

Ewan chuckled against her ear. “Our clan, lass. Our clan is our family.”

Oh, she liked the idea of that. Family. She gave a contented sigh and leaned her head back on his shoulder.

“Ewan?”

“Aye, lass.”

“Thank you for not letting me die. ’Tis the truth I was close to giving up, but your bellowing made it quite impossible to give in. You do like to bellow. It probably made you happy to have an excuse to carry on so.”

He squeezed her to him and she felt the tremble of his body that signaled silent laughter.

“When you are well, we’re going to have a long talk.”

She tried to sit up but he held her tight. “Talk about what, Laird?”

“Words, lass. Words I intend that you’ll offer me.”

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.