“Laird,” she began, but Ewan hushed her by taking her shoulders and pressing his lips to hers. As he maneuvered her to the bed, he managed to divest her of the rest of her clothing.
His trews hit the floor, and she felt something hot and hard brush against her belly. When she looked down and saw what it was, her mouth gaped open and she stared in horror at the jutting appendage.
He captured her chin and directed her gaze upward again. As his mouth covered hers, he lowered her to the bed until she lay on her back and he hovered just above her, his arm pushed into the bedding to prevent his full weight from bearing down on her.
“Spread your legs, Mairin,” he rasped against her lips.
Confounded by the entire experience, she relaxed her thighs and then squeaked in dismay when Ewan’s hand slipped between her legs and stroked his thumb through the delicate folds.
His mouth slipped down the side of her neck. Chill bumps raced over her shoulders and to her breasts as his lips fastened against the flesh just below her ear. It was oddly exciting and it stirred breathless feelings of … she wasn’t sure how to describe any of it. But she liked it.
“I’m sorry, lass.” His voice was heavy with regret. “I’m so damned sorry.”
She frowned as she gripped his shoulders. His body moved over hers, covering her with his heat and hardness. What was he sorry for? It didn’t seem appropriate to offer apology in the middle of loving.
She felt him, hard as steel, as he probed between her thighs. It took a moment for her to realize what he was probing with. Her eyes flew open and her fingers dug into his skin.
“Ewan!”
“Forgive me,” he whispered.
He thrust forward, and the hazy euphoria she’d experienced just moments before disappeared as pain tore her in half when he ripped through her body.
She cried out and pounded his shoulders with clenched fists. Tears slipped down her cheeks and he swept them away with his mouth as he rained kisses over her face.
“Shhh, lass,” he crooned.
“It hurts!”
“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I’m so sorry, Mairin. But I can’t stop. We must finish this.”
He moved tentatively, and she hit him again. He’d torn her in two. There was no other explanation for it.
“I haven’t torn you apart,” he said gruffly. “Be still a moment. The pain will go away.”
He withdrew, and she flinched as her body tugged tightly at him. Then he pushed forward again, and she whimpered at the fullness.
A shout in the hallway made her go rigid. Ewan cursed and then began moving again. She lay there in shock, unable to process or put a name to the uncomfortable sensation that welled within.
Once, twice, and once again he pushed into her, and then he tensed against her and held himself so still that she could hear the violent thud of his heartbeat.
Just as suddenly, he rolled away, and she felt sticky wetness between her legs. Not having any idea what it was she was supposed to do next, she lay there trembling as her husband hurried to dress.
After he pulled on his boots, he returned to the bed and slipped his arms underneath her. Maybe now he would offer the tender words a husband was supposed to say after loving. But he simply picked her up and cradled her in his arms for a moment. Then he carried her to the bench in front of the fire and set her down.
She blinked and watched as he stripped the linen from the bed and examined the bloodstain in the middle. Curling it into his hand, he glanced over at her, his eyes brimming with apology.
“I must go, lass. I’ll send one of the women to tend you.”
He left the chamber, shutting the door behind him, and Mairin stared after him in complete disbelief over what had just transpired.
A moment later, Maddie bustled in, sympathy burning bright in her eyes.
“There, there, lass,” Maddie said, as she gathered Mairin in her arms. “You look too pale, and your eyes are much too wide. I’ll have hot water brought up to you. ’Twill soothe your aches and pains.”
Mairin was too mortified to ask Maddie any of the questions swirling around her mind. She sat there, numb to her toes, while the battle cry rose from the courtyard and then the sound of hundreds of horses thundering across the land drowned out everything else.
Then her gaze flickered across the discarded dres on the floor. He’d torn her dress. Her wedding dress. After every other bewildering thing that had occurred this day, the dress shouldn’t have upset her so. But tears welled in her eyes, and before she could call them back, warm trails trickled down her cheeks.
Maddie left her to replace the linens on the bed. She bustled around the chamber, though it was clear she had no task to do.
“Please,” she whispered to Maddie. “I just want to be alone.”
Maddie eyed her dubiously, but when Mairin reinforced her request, Maddie reluctantly turned away and left the chamber. Mairin stayed on the bench for a long moment, her knees huddled to her chest as she stared into the dwindling fire. Then she got up to wash the stickiness from her body. When she was done, she crawled onto the bed and huddled underneath the clean linens, too tired and distraught to worry over Duncan Cameron’s army.
Ewan led his men over the hilltops and down the steep southern boundary of their lands, his two brothers flanking him. Another rider had ridden furiously to give Ewan an update. Cameron’s men were approaching without delay.
There would be no time to stage a surprise attack, and in truth, Ewan had no desire for one. He rode with the might of his entire army, save only a contingent that remained behind to guard the keep. There was no doubt they’d be outnumbered, but the McCabe soldiers made up in might what they lacked in numbers.
“They’re just over the next hilltop, Laird,” Gannon said as he drew up his horse in front of Ewan.
Ewan smiled. Revenge was at hand.
“Let’s greet Cameron on the next rise,” Ewan said to his brothers.
Alaric and Caelen raised their swords into the air. Around them, the shouts of their men echoed sharply across the land. Ewan spurred his horse and they raced down the hill and began the climb to the next. When they topped the rise, Ewan called a halt as they stared down at the assembled might of the Cameron army.
Ewan scanned the Cameron soldiers until finally his gaze lighted on his prey. Duncan Cameron sat high in his saddle, dressed in full battle regalia.
“Cameron is mine,” he shouted to his men. Then he glanced sideways at his brothers. “ ’Tis time to deliver a message.”
“Kill them all?” Alaric asked mildly.
Ewan’s nostrils flared. “Every last one.”
Caelen rotated his sword in his hand. “Then let it be done.”
Ewan gave the battle cry and urged his horse down the hill. Around him, his men took up the cry and soon the valley echoed with the thunder of horses. The McCabes descended like avenging hellfire, their savage cries enough to frighten the souls of the dead.
After a faltering hesitation, when it wasn’t clear whether they meant to attack or run, Cameron’s men surged forward. divmet in a clash of swords at the bottom of the hill. Ewan slashed through the first two men he encountered with a deft swing of his sword. He could see the surprise—and the fear—in the eyes of Cameron’s men. They hadn’t expected to encounter a fighting force such as Ewan’s, and Ewan derived unholy satisfaction from that fact.
He glanced quickly to check on his men. He needn’t have worried. Caelen and Alaric were cutting a swath through Cameron’s men while the rest of his soldiers dispatched their foes with expert speed and agility.
Ewan set his sights on Cameron, who still hadn’t dismounted his horse. He stood back, watching his men and barking orders. Ewan single-mindedly cut a path through Cameron’s men until only two soldiers stood between him and Cameron.