Never Love a Highlander (33 page)

Rionna gripped the stone edge of the curved balcony wall and leaned forward as she drank in her husband’s appearance and let his words slide like silk over her ears.

“Nay, my gesture is not as grand as yours. You were willing to sacrifice all because you considered me yours and were unwilling to let me go.

“I once made the mistake of trying to change who you were. I tried to take a bold, courageous woman and make her into a meek, mild-mannered genteel lady because I thought I would be safe from her. ’Twas the biggest mistake I’ve ever made and one I’ll regret all my days.

“I offer you the words now, wife. I love you. I love my warrior princess. I say it in front of my king, my clan.
Our
clan. So that you’ll know how very loved and cherished you are.”

A roar of approval went up from the men. They raised their swords and whoops and whistles rose sharply through the air.

She pressed her fist to her mouth so she wouldn’t embarrass herself or Caelen by bursting into tears. “I love you, too, my gruff warrior,” she whispered.

“I gathered my king and my family today to rectify a wrong,” Caelen continued when the cheers diminished. He turned then, partly to include the McDonald men in his address. “The McDonalds deserve to have their name live on. ’Tis a noble and courageous thing they did for the laird who bore not their name and for the king who divided their clan.”

Slowly he raised his gaze once more to find Rionna’s. His love was a tangible warmth crowding his clear green eyes.

“Henceforth I will no longer be known as Caelen McCabe. From this day forward I take the name of Caelen McDonald. May our clan live long, and the glory of the day a golden-haired warrior princess led them into battle be retold for many years to come.”

Rionna’s mouth dropped open. Stunned silence settled over the courtyard as the warriors all stared at Caelen. The women who’d gathered to hear the address put their hands to their mouths. Some openly wept and others brought their aprons to their eyes.

Ewan stared at his brother with pride while Mairin, who’d gone to join her husband, wiped tears from her face.

And then Rionna was running. She flew into the keep and down the stairs, grasping her skirts in tight fists so she didn’t fall. She burst out of the door of the keep and there was Caelen, standing before her, the king, his brothers, and their clan.

She stopped before she hurled herself into his arms, remembering his admonishment so many months earlier about showing affection in front of his men.

“If you wait any longer to come to me, I’ll tackle you here in front of everyone,” Caelen said in a low voice.

With a cry she launched herself into his arms and he caught her against him as she fused her mouth to his in a kiss that her clansmen would talk about years later.

He spun her around and around as her laughter filled the air. Around them their clan gathered, joyous and celebrating. When he finally lowered her to the ground, he kept her pressed to his chest as he stared into her eyes.

“I love you, lass. There is not a single part of my heart or soul that you do not own.”

“I’m glad of that, Caelen McDonald, for I am a possessive woman and I’ll not be content with anything less than the whole of you.”

He grinned and lowered his mouth to kiss her again. “You are a greedy lass. I like it.”

E
PILOGUE

Caelen quietly let himself into his chamber, his newborn son nestled in his arms. A few feet away, Rionna slept, exhausted from the birth.

Carefully, so as not to awaken her, he lay the babe next to her and stood looking down on the most precious things in his life.

The celebration was still ongoing below. His brothers and their wives had traveled to McDonald keep for the birth, and Caelen had gone down to present his son to his clan.

He could go back down and leave Rionna to rest, but he found himself going to his desk and taking out his scrolls, quill, and inkwell.

As he’d told Rionna, he wasn’t an eloquent man and could oft express himself better in writing than he could aloud. Today was such a day, for his heart was so full he could never hope to fully put into speech all that he felt.

He opened the scroll and hastily scrawled the year and the day, for this was an important entry. The day that marked the birth of his son.

But ’twas his wife he found himself thinking on as he sat writing by the light of a candle. Every once in awhile he looked up and smiled a contented smile as he watched his wife and child sleep.

When he’d finished the last of his entry, he scattered sand to dry the ink and then looked one last time at all he’d written.

Today will long be a day that lasts in my memory. I was sore afraid as Rionna struggled to bring forth life from her womb, but I needn’t have worried, for my warrior princess was as fierce as ever. And indeed she presented me a fine, squalling son, with a satisfied smile upon her face. She informs me that my son will bear my green eyes and dark hair because she commands it. I’ll not gainsay her, for ’tis widely known that I cannot deny her anything
.

She rests now and I cannot help but stare and marvel at the miracle she represents. I’ll never forget the day I first saw her and how she fascinated me with her mannish attire, the sword she wielded with the skill of a warrior, and the challenge in her beautiful eyes. She’s spoken before of a time when part of my heart was withheld from her because it belonged to another, but from the moment I laid eyes on her, I belonged solely to her
.

Ah, lass, I think I have always loved you, for ’tis the truth I cannot ever remember a time I didn’t
.

Caelen McDonald, Laird of the McDonald clan

For Telisa

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

I owe so much to my family and, in particular, my husband, who’s taken over laundry, cooking, and most of the house stuff so that I can meet my deadlines.

My agent, Kim Whalen, is an invaluable business partner who never hesitates to keep me straight and motivated and doesn’t mind my meltdowns.

And people like Jaci Burton, Laurie K., Vicki L., and Shannon Stacey keep me going and provide an invaluable, priceless thing: friendship. Thank you.

Writing may well be a very solitary endeavor, but the people in my life make my job easier and more rewarding. I wouldn’t want to do it without them.

Read on for previews of the first two exciting books in the McCabe trilogy

I
N
B
ED WITH A
H
IGHLANDER

Mairin Stuart knelt on the stone floor beside her pallet and bowed her head in her evening prayer. Her hand slipped to the small wooden cross hanging from a bit of leather around her neck, and her thumb rubbed a familiar path over the now smooth surface.

For several long minutes, she whispered the words she’d recited since she was a child, and then she ended it as she always did.
Please, God. Don’t let them find me
.

She pushed herself from the floor, her knees scraping the uneven stones. The plain, brown garb she wore signaled her place along the other novices. Though she’d been here far longer than the others, she’d never taken the vows that would complete her spiritual journey. It was never her intention.

She went to the basin in the corner and poured from the pitcher of water. She smiled as she dampened her cloth, and Mother Serenity’s words came floating to mind.
Cleanliness is next to Godliness
.

She wiped her face and started to remove her gown to extend her wash when she heard a terrible crash. Startled, she dropped the cloth and whirled around to stare at her closed door. Then galvanized to action, she ran and flung it open, racing into the hall.

Around her, the other nuns also filled the hall, their dismayed murmurs rising. A loud bellow echoed down the corridor from the abbey’s front entrance. A cry of pain followed the bellow, and Mairin’s heart froze. Mother Serenity.

Mairin and the rest of the sisters ran toward the sound, some lagging back while others shoved determinedly ahead. When they reached the chapel, Mairin drew up short, paralyzed by the sight before her.

Warriors were everywhere. There were at least twenty, all dressed in battle gear, their faces unwashed, sweat drenching their hair and clothing. But no blood. They hadn’t come for sanctuary or aid. The leader held Mother Serenity by the arm, and even from a distance, Mairin could see the abbess’s face drawn in pain.

“Where is she?” the man demanded in a cold voice.

Mairin took a step back. He was a fierce-looking man. Evil. Rage coiled in his eyes like a snake waiting to strike. He shook Mother Serenity when she didn’t respond, and she warbled in his grasp like a rag doll.

Mairin crossed herself and whispered an urgent prayer. The nuns around her gathered in a close ball and also offered their prayers.

“She is not here,” Mother Serenity gasped out. “I’ve told you the woman you seek is not here.”

“You lie!” he roared.

He looked toward the group of nuns, his gaze flickering coldly over them.

“Mairin Stuart. Tell me where she is.”

Mairin went cold, fear rising to a boil in her stomach. How had he found her? After all this time. Her nightmare wasn’t over. It was, indeed, just beginning.

Her hands shook so badly that she had to hide them in the folds of her dress. Sweat gathered on her brow, and her gut lurched. She swallowed, willing herself not to be sick.

When no answer was forthcoming, the man smiled, and it sent a chill straight down Mairin’s spine. Still staring at them, he lifted Mother Serenity’s arm so that it was in plain sight. Callously, he bent her index finger until Mairin heard the betraying pop of bone.

One of the nuns shrieked and ran forward only to be backhanded down by one of the soldiers. The rest of the nuns gasped at the bold outrage.

“This is God’s house,” Mother Serenity said in a reedy voice. “You sin greatly by bringing violence onto holy ground.”

“Shut up, old woman,” the man snapped. “Tell me where Mairin Stuart is or I’ll kill every last one of you.”

Mairin sucked in her breath and curled her fingers into balls at her sides. She believed him. There was too much evil, too much desperation, in his eyes. He had been sent on a devil’s errand, and he wouldn’t be denied.

He grasped Mother Serenity’s middle finger, and Mairin rushed forward.

“Charity, nay!” Mother Serenity cried.

Mairin ignored her. “I’m Mairin Stuart. Now let her go!”

The man dropped Mother Serenity’s hand then shoved the woman back. He stared at Mairin with interest, then let his gaze wander suggestively down her body and back up again. Mairin’s cheeks flamed at the blatant disrespect, but she gave no quarter, staring back at the man with as much defiance as she dared.

He snapped his fingers, and two men advanced on Mairin, grabbing her before she could think to run. They had her on the floor in a split second, their hands fumbling with the hem of her gown.

She kicked wildly, flailing her arms, but she was no match for their strength. Would they rape her here on the chapel floor? Tears gathered in her eyes as they shoved her clothing up over her hips.

They turned her to the right and fingers touched her hip, right where the mark rested.

Oh nay.

She bowed her head as tears of defeat slipped down her cheeks.

“ ’Tis her!” one of them said excitedly.

He was instantly shoved aside as the leader bent over to examine the mark for himself.

He, too, touched it, outlining the royal crest of Alexander. Issuing a grunt of satisfaction, he curled his hand around her chin and yanked until she faced him.

His smile revolted her.

“We’ve been looking for you a long time, Mairin Stuart.”

“Go to hell,” she spat.

Instead of striking her, his grin broadened. “Tsk-tsk, such blasphemy in the house of God.”

He stood rapidly, and before Mairin could blink, she was hauled over a man’s shoulder, and the soldiers filed out of the abbey and into the cool night.

They wasted no time getting onto their horses. Mairin was gagged then trussed hand and foot and tossed over the saddle in front of one of the men. They were away, the thunder of hooves echoing across the still night, before she had time to react. They were as precise as they were ruthless.

The saddle dug into her belly, and she bounced up and down until she was sure she was going to throw up. She moaned, afraid she’d choke with the gag so securely around her mouth.

When they finally stopped, she was nearly unconscious. A hand gripped her nape, the fingers easily circling the slim column. She was hauled upward and dropped unceremoniously to the ground.

Around her, they made camp while she lay shivering in the damp air. Finally she heard one say, “You best be seeing to the lass, Finn. Laird Cameron won’t be happy if she dies of exposure.”