The Highlander Series (39 page)

He meant to kill her child. Ewan’s child. And replace
it with his own seed. The mere thought had her gagging again, and she inhaled sharply through her nose to prevent vomiting all over the bed.

“Here, ’tis better to have it done with. Drink it down. I’ll summon the palace healer to help you through the worst of it. ’Tis said it can be very painful.”

He was so calm about it. How could he discuss murder with a tender smile? The man was a monster. A demon from hell.

“Why would you waste valuable time?” she choked out. She tried frantically to come up with a plan, something,
anything
to sway him from murder.

He frowned. “What mean you?”

“You seek to rid my womb of the child I carry when I am already nearly half done with the carrying. Losing a babe at this advanced stage can render a woman barren. ’Tis no guarantee I’ll become pregnant right away or at all. You’ve already claimed to all that the babe I carry is yours. If it matters not who I’m married to, why should it matter whose babe I carry? As long as I deliver a child, control of Neamh Álainn is yours. Why would you wait and risk my not becoming pregnant again?”

His frown deepened, as if he hadn’t considered such a possibility.

“I want my child to live,” she said softly. “Regardless of who it calls father. I’d do anything to protect him. In that regard you have the advantage, Laird.”

Duncan stood and paced restlessly in front of the bed. He stopped every once in awhile and eyed her as if trying to determine the truth of her words.

“ ’Tis often said a mother’s love knows no bounds. All right, Mairin Stuart. I agree to your terms. I’ll spare your child’s life, but from this day on you are mine. You’ll not fight me when I seek to avail myself of your body. You will never utter a single word to contradict the account I have given Lord Archibald. Are we understood?”

May God forgive me
.

“I agree,” she choked out.

“Then be prepared to depart the castle. We leave in an hour’s time to return to Cameron land.”

“Ewan! Ewan! Wake up for God’s sake.”

Ewan found himself shaken roughly as he gained awareness of his surroundings. He cracked an eye open and glanced around only to find himself cloaked in darkness.

“Caelen?” he rasped.

“Thank God.”

The relief in Caelen’s voice was staggering.

“Mairin.”

The single word sent grief splintering through his head and chest. Bile rose in his throat at the knowledge that right now his wife was with her tormentor.

“Mairin,” he said again. “Where is she?”

The silence was oppressive. He heard his brothers’ breathing in the darkness, knew they dreaded the telling they must do.

“I’m sorry, Ewan. Duncan departed hours past, bearing Mairin with him,” Alaric said in a grim voice.

Ewan sat up, pain ripping through his head. His brothers caught his shoulders and guided him back down again when he nearly fell.

“Where are we?” he demanded.

“The king’s dungeon,” Caelen said, fury laced in each word. “The little bastard Archibald had us all tossed in here after his soldiers bashed you in the head.”

“Cormac and Gannon?”

“Here, Laird,” Gannon returned.

Ice filled Ewan’s veins as everything came back to him in a rush. “Diormid. Where is he now?”

“I’m not certain, Laird, but he’ll have gone from here. He knows any of us will kill him on sight. ’Tis possible
he went with Cameron, since it looks that he was working with Cameron all along.”

“The attempts on my life. The arrow. The poison. It must have been him. He had orders from Cameron to kill me. When that didn’t work, he put his petition before the king.”

“I suspect he had the petition working even before Diormid’s attempts on your life,” Alaric said. “He had every angle covered from the start.”

“The question is, if David is involved in this along with Archibald or if Archibald acts alone with Cameron,” Caelen mused.

Ewan put his hands on the rough floor of the dungeon and pushed himself into a sitting position. “Archibald said that David was indisposed and castle rumor confirmed that the king is very ill. I wouldn’t be surprised if Archibald is behind that as well.”

“Are you all right, Ewan?” Alaric asked. “Does your head pain you overmuch?”

Ewan touched the side of his head, felt the warmth of blood, but it was thick and it no longer flowed freely. “I’ll be fine. What’s important is that Mairin not stay in Cameron’s grasp a minute longer than she has to.”

“I’ve sent a message to our men,” Caelen said. “ ’Tis my hope we hear from them soon.”

Ewan stared around the darkened dungeon. “How did you send a message to our men?”

“I might have threatened one of the guards who tossed us into the cell,” Caelen admitted. “I told him that unless he informed our men of our fate that I would spit him on my sword, castrate him, and feed his cods to the buzzards.”

Alaric chuckled. “The man couldn’t leave us fast enough to bear Caelen’s message to our men.”

“How long have we been down here?” Ewan asked as he rubbed more of the blood from the side of his head.

Caelen sighed. “Several hours. One of the guards who
obviously feels ’tis best to remain on my good side informed me of Cameron’s departure a few hours past.”

“Son of a bitch,” Ewan swore. “I can’t believe that bastard allowed Mairin to fall into Cameron’s hands. This was all a setup from the beginning. Archibald never had any intention of presenting this matter before David, and he damn sure never had any intention of listening to Mairin or to me. Diormid’s testimony just gave him the sway of public opinion so that when he rendered his judgment, there was no backlash from the other lairds who might have thought he intervened unfairly.”

“I’m sorry, Laird,” Cormac said, devastation in every word. “I should have seen it. I spent every day in Diormid’s company. I fought with him. Ate with him. We trained together. We were as brothers. I would have never dreamed he would betray us.”

“ ’Tis just as much my fault as anyone’s,” Ewan said bleakly. “I trusted him with Mairin’s safety many times.”

Ewan rubbed his hand tiredly over his face and tried to put the memory of Cameron’s hands on Mairin out of his mind. He couldn’t imagine Cameron hurting Mairin because it would drive him insane. The only way to survive this was to turn it off. Turn off his emotions. Turn off the images flashing through his mind with torturous precision.

“Cameron will expect a full-scale attack on his holding,” Caelen pointed out. “He’ll know that Archibald cannot hold us in the king’s dungeon forever, and he knows you’ll come for Mairin. He’ll know it and expect it, so he’ll be prepared.”

“I can’t risk Mairin’s safety by attacking his keep with the might of my entire army. If she was not in residence, I’d give him the fight he expects and not give a damn that he expects it. I’d swarm over his lands like the plague and decimate everything in our path. But I won’t take the risk that Mairin would be caught up in the battle. And if Duncan knew all was lost, he’d kill her out of spite.”

“Aye,” Alaric agreed. “What then do we do?”

“We steal into his keep and take Mairin back.”

Caelen let out a deep breath, the sound loud in the quiet of the dungeon cell. “You make it sound like a simple raiding mission, Ewan. Cameron will expect such a trick as well.”

“We’ll succeed. We have no other option.”

Caelen, Alaric, Gannon, and Cormac voiced their agreement. Silence fell once again as they waited.

An hour later, a sound outside the cell stirred them to action. Caelen leaped to his feet and charged toward the iron bars as a guard shuffled down the corridor, torch in hand.

“You must hurry,” the guard whispered in an urgent voice. “Your men have staged a distraction. Follow me. I’ll show you to the northern gate.”

Alaric helped Ewan to his feet and they hurried from the cell and up the stone staircase to the first level of the castle. The guard rushed down the long corridor, past the great hall, and beyond to the kitchens.

They exited the castle through the small door where rubbish was discarded and approached a small wooden gate carved into the imposing stone wall that jutted upward. The guard produced a key and hastily unlocked the large metal padlock.

“Go,” he urged.

Ewan’s men filed out of the doorway and Ewan paused at the end. “You have my thanks,” he told the guard. “You need to watch over your king. Archibald plots against him. I’ve heard rumor the king is unwell. Examine his food and drink.”

The guard nodded. “Go with God, Laird McCabe. I’ll pray for the safe return of your lady wife.”

Ewan ducked out of the doorway and followed his men into the night. They raced across the terrain, heading for the distant cover of the forest.

Ewan trilled a soft birdcall, the sound echoing over the still night. In the distance, an answering call sounded and Ewan crept stealthily forward, his brothers on his heels.

They’d waited four days for the new moon, after taking three days to arrive on Cameron land and carefully survey the layout of the keep. Ewan couldn’t wait a single moment longer. There had been no sign of Mairin in several long days as they watched and waited. Duncan was keeping her under tight wraps.

After singling out the chamber that Mairin was most likely housed in, Ewan and his men circled the keep. Along with his brothers, Ewan crept inside the stone skirt, past the sleeping guards to the tower that loomed overhead.

Now in the darkness, Ewan tossed the rope with the hook up the wall. It took five attempts before he hooked the sill. Tugging on the rope to make sure it would hold, he began a quick hand-over-hand scale up the wall to the window.

Mairin stood in her window and bowed her head, as the shame of her circumstances fell over her shoulders.

A devil’s bargain. Her child’s life for her own. Her
child’s life for her life with Ewan. She didn’t regret the decision she’d made, but she mourned all she had lost. All she’d never have.

The strain of the last week was too much to bear. She was at her wit’s end. She was afraid to eat lest Duncan change his mind and go back on his word. She feared at every turn that he’d put a potion into her drink or food that would cause her to lose her child.

She lived in constant fear of having to give herself to the man who now called her
wife
. She swayed wearily and turned in the direction of the bed. She couldn’t continue on in this manner. It wasn’t good for her child, and yet she had no choice.

Tears glistened on her cheeks as she gave in to the overwhelming grief welling from the depths of her soul. How could she live when she’d known a love so deep that she ached at the memory? How could she ever willingly lie with a man after knowing Ewan’s touch?

Finally, in her exhaustion, she crawled under the covers and buried her head in the pillow so no one would hear her sobs.

She had no idea of the passing of time. When she felt a hand slide over her arm and to her shoulder, she flinched away and turned over, prepared to defend herself from Duncan’s attack.

“Shh, lass, ’tis me, Ewan,” he whispered.

She stared up at her husband in the darkness, unable to believe that he was here, in her chamber.

He touched her wet cheek and wiped away the trail of tears. His voice was tortured and the words seemed ripped from his very soul. “Ah, Mairin, what did he do to you?”

“Ewan?”

“Aye, lass, ’tis me.”

She rose up and threw her arms around his neck, holding on for dear life. If she was dreaming, she never
wanted to wake up. She wanted to exist in this dream world where Ewan’s arms were securely around her and she could smell his strong masculine scent.

He crushed her to him, his hand stroking her head, shaking and making a mess of her already unruly hair.

“Ewan,” she choked out. “Oh God, Ewan. Ewan.”

His lips found hers and he kissed her desperately, as if it were the last kiss they’d ever share. Their lips tangled and her tears slipped onto their tongues. She breathed him in, the last breath she wanted to take. She lived in this moment, reaching for everything she’d lost, for everything she wanted most.

“Shh, don’t cry, lass. You’re breaking my heart. We don’t have much time. I’ve got to take you from this place.”

His words penetrated the heavy grief surrounding her. She stared up at him, afraid to believe he was real, that he was there and not a figment of her dearest fantasies.

He picked her up from the bed and carried her toward the window. He leaned out and she clutched at his shoulders as she stared down at the dizzying distance between her sill and the ground.

“Listen to me, sweeting,” he said in a gentle voice. He brushed his lips over her temple and held her tightly against his chest. “We’re going down a rope from your window.”

She raised her head in alarm. “Ewan, I can’t! The babe. I’m too big and clumsy.”

He cupped her chin and stroked his fingers over her cheek as he stared down at her. “I’ll be with you every step of the way. I’m going to lower you down first. Alaric and Caelen wait for us at the bottom. If you fall, they’ll catch you. I need you to trust me.”