“You called for me, Laird?”
Ewan nodded. “Aye.” He thrust the dress toward the woman, and with a surprised look, she took it. “Can you repair it?”
Maddie turned the material over in her hands, examining the place where the material had rent.
“Aye, Laird. ’Twill only take a needle and thread. I could have it done in no time.”
“See that you do. I’d like for your mistress to have it whole again.”
Maddie smiled, and her eyes sparkled with a knowing look that annoyed him. He scowled at her and motioned her away. Still grinning, she tucked the dress under her arm and left the hall.
“You tore her wedding dress?” Caelen smirked.
“You certainly have a way with the wenches,” Alaric said, shaking his head. “You haul her up the stairs for perhaps what was the fastest consummation on record, and you tear her wedding dress in the process.”
Ewan’s nostrils flared. “She’s not a wench. She’s your sister now and you should speak of her with respect as your mistress and wife to your laird.”
Alaric held up his hands in surrender and leaned back in his chair. “No offense was intended.”
“Touchy, isn’t he?” Caelen said.
Ewan’s glare silenced his youngest brother. “We have much to do today. Alaric, I need you to be my emissary to McDonald.”
Both Alaric and Caelen shot forward in their seats, incredulity etched on their faces.
“What? Ewan, the bastard tried to abduct your son,” Alaric growled.
“He denies knowledge of his soldier’s actions and vows that his soldier acted on his own accord. The soldier is dead now,” Ewan said flatly. “He won’t be a threat to my son ever again. McDonald wants an alliance. ’Tis to his advantage to call us friend. I’ve denied him until now. But his lands would join ours to Neamh Álainn. I want you to make it happen, Alaric.”
“So be it,” Alaric said. “I’ll leave within the hour.”
Alaric strode from the hall to prepare for his journey. Ewan quickly finished his meal and then he and Caelen quit the hall and went to where his men were training.
They stood in the courtyard, watching as the other soldiers sparred and went through ttraining exercises.
“ ’Tis imperative that Mairin be under constant guard,” Ewan said in a low voice to Caelen. “Duncan Cameron won’t give up just because I’ve wed her. There is much to be done, and Mairin must remain inside the keep under careful watch.”
Caelen shot Ewan a wary glance. “Don’t think to saddle me with such a chore. She’s your wife.”
“She’s the future of our clan,” Ewan said in a dangerously soft voice. “You would do well to bear that in mind when you tell me what you will and won’t do. I expect your loyalty to me to extend to her.”
“But a nursemaid, Ewan?” Caelen asked in a pained voice.
“All you have to do is keep her safe. How hard can that be?” Ewan asked. He motioned to his senior commanders when they finished the current round of sparring.
He instructed Gannon, Cormac, and Diormid on his expectations that Mairin be watched over at all times.
“As you wish, Laird. She won’t like it much,” Gannon said.
“I’m not concerned with what she won’t like,” Ewan countered. “My concern is keeping her safe and with me.”
The men nodded their agreement.
“There’s no need to alarm her. I don’t want her to feel unsafe on my land. I want her guarded well but I want it to appear that ’tis just the way of things.”
“You can count on us to keep Lady McCabe safe, Laird,” Cormac vowed.
Satisfied that his men understood the importance of keeping close watch on Mairin, Ewan summoned his messenger and penned a missive to the king informing him of his marriage to Mairin and requesting the release of her dowry.
For the first time in many years, hope beat a steady rhythm in his chest. Not for vengeance. Nay, he’d always known that the day would come when he would repay the wrongs done to his clan. With Mairin’s dowry his clan would prosper once again. Food would be plentiful. Supplies would be on hand. They would cease eking out their existence under spartan conditions.
Despite Ewan’s intention to spare a moment to speak with Mairin—he wasn’t entirely sure about what—the day passed in a blur of activity. He’d thought to gauge her mood and offer reassurance that Duncan Cameron’s men had been dispatched. Aye, she’d feel better and more secure, and she damn sure wouldn’t doubt his ability to protect her or his keep any longer.
An incident with his men prevented Ewan from dining with Mairin, and by the time he trudged up the stairs to his chamber, he was tired, but at least he was clean after a dip in the loch.
He nudged the door open to see that she was already abed, her soft, even breathing signaling her slumber. He started forward, intent on waking her, when h saw that once again, Crispen was snuggled against her. He sighed. Tomorrow he would make it a point to tell her that Crispen was to sleep in his own chambers across the hall.
He never got the chance to make his point. From the moment Mairin awoke, he never seemed to gain the opportunity to speak with her. Toward afternoon, he grew impatient and issued a direct summons for her to appear before him.
When it went unanswered, he sent Cormac to fetch her, since Diormid was guarding her. Cormac returned with the news that Mairin was visiting the cottages of the other women and would speak to her laird later.
Ewan scowled, and Cormac seemed uncomfortable telling his laird that his bride had refused him.
Clearly they were going to have to discuss matters far more important than where his son slept. Namely, the idea that she had the right to refuse a direct order from Ewan.
He made it a point to eat dinner with Mairin that evening. She looked tired and nervous. Her gaze kept darting toward him when she thought he wasn’t looking, as though she feared him lunging across the table and hauling her to his chamber.
He sighed. He supposed it wasn’t an unreasonable fear given what had occurred on their wedding day. Some of his irritation fell away. The lass was skittish. It was up to him to allay her fears and soothe her worries.
Protection was something he could readily offer. His loyalty to the woman he called wife would be unwavering. She’d never want for anything he could provide as long as he lived. Those were things that the warrior in him readily embraced. But things like tenderness and understanding? Sweet words meant to soothe away worries? The mere idea appalled him beyond measure.
His thoughts must have been expressed on his face because Mairin sent him a startled look and then she immediately rose and excused herself from the table. Without waiting for his permission to leave, she murmured something to Crispen. The lad stuffed his mouth full of food and hastily shoved away from the table. He took her hand and they left the hall in the direction of the stairs.
Ewan’s eyes narrowed as he realized just what it was she was doing. She was purposely taking Crispen into their bed in an effort to avoid Ewan. If he weren’t so annoyed, he might have been impressed by her craftiness.
He himself pushed away from the table and rose with a nod to Caelen. He’d rather go off to war than go up those stairs and face a situation with his new wife that he had no inkling of how to resolve.
A good start would be to issue a stern lecture on obeying his orders. After that, he would simply command her to cease being so skittish around him.
Feeling confident about his plan of action, he went up to his chamber and opened the door. Mairin whipped around, surprise written in her eyes.
“Is there something you need, Laird?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “Can I not retire to my own chamber?”
She flushed and gathered ng pen to her skirts. “Aye, of course. You don’t usually come to bed so early. That is, I hadn’t expected you to …”
She trailed off, her blush deepening. She pressed her lips firmly together as if refusing to say another word.