by Maya Banks
She twisted and fought against him but he tightened his grip, refusing to give way.
“Listen to me, Mairin,” he said urgently. “We must rid your stomach of its contents. I must make you vomit. I’m sorry, but I have no choice.”
As soon as her lips parted, he thrust his fingers to the back of her throat and she gagged and convulsed. With only one arm to hold her, it was difficult.
“Help me hold her,” he barked to Maddie. “If you can’t do it, call one of my brothers.”
Bertha and Maddie both leaped forward, pressing their full weight against Mairin’s body.
Mairin gagged again and she vomited onto the floor.
“Again, Laird,” Bertha urged. “I know ’tis difficult to see her in such pain, but if she’s to survive, it must be done.”
He’d do anything to keep her from dying, even if it meant causing her agony. He held her head and forced her to retch. Again and again she heaved until nothing more would push itself out. Her entire body was so rigid, it was a wonder she hadn’t broken any bones yet.
Still he pressed on, determined to keep her alive. Finally Bertha touched his arm. “ ’Tis done. You can release her now.”
Maddie got up and wet a rag with water from the washbasin and thrust it at Ewan. He wiped Mairin’s mouth and then her flushed, sweaty forehead.
Carefully he eased her back onto the bed and then stripped the clothing from her body. He tossed the garments aside and instructed the women to clean the chamber to rid it of the noxious smell.
He sat by Mairin’s side as he pulled the covers to shield her nakedness. He watched anxiously, feeling so helpless that it kindled a rage so deep that he burned with it.
He could hear the commotion outside his chamber door, knew his brothers were there, and others, but he wouldn’t take his eyes from Mairin.
The women rapidly cleaned the mess from the chamber and removed the offending clothing. Moments later, Maddie returned, shutting the door firmly behind her.
“Laird, let me take over her care,” she said in a soft voice. “She’s emptied her stomach. There’s naught to do but wait now.”
Ewan shook his head. “I won’t leave her.”
He ran a finger through her limp hair and touched her cheek, alarmed by how cool her skin felt to his touch. Her breathing was shallow, so light that many times he’d leaned his head down, afraid that no air escaped her nose any longer.
She’d slipped into unconsciousness. She hadn’t moved, hadn’t stirred or cried out from the vicious pain assaulting her. He didn’t know what was worse. Hearing her helpless cries or seeing her as still as death.
They both frightened the hell out of him.
Maddie stood by the bed for a long moment, and then with a sigh, she turned and left the chamber.
Before Ewan could recline on the bed beside Mairin, his brothers burst into the chamber.
“How is she?” Alaric demanded.
Caelen didn’t speak, but the storm was there in his eyes as he stared down at Mairin.
Ewan touched Mairin’s cheek again and ran his fingers underneath her nose until he felt the light exchange of air on his skin. There was so much turmoil churning in his gut. Rage. Fear. Helplessness.
“I don’t know,” he finally said. The admission twisted the knife in his belly until he had the same urge to vomit as Mairin.
“Who did this?” Caelen hissed. “Who could have poisoned her?”
Ewan glanced down at Mairin as anger knotted his chest. His nostrils flared and he curled his fingers into tight fists. “McDonald,” he said through clenched teeth. “Goddamn McDonald.”
Alaric reared back in surprise. “McDonald?”
Ewan stared hard at his two brothers. “I want you to stay with her. The both of you. Summon me if there is any change in her condition. Right now I trust no one but you until I discover who is trying to kill my wife.”
“Ewan, where are you going?” Caelen demanded, as Ewan stalked from the room.
Ewan turned around as he reached the doorway. “To have a word with McDonald.”
He stormed down the stairs, his sword drawn as he entered the hall where the majority of his soldiers were now assembled. They came to attention when they saw Ewan’s sword at the ready.
McDonald stood to the side, surrounded by his guards. Rionna was next to him and the two were conversing in urgent tones. Tension knotted the air in the hall, so thick that Ewan’s skin prickled with it.
Rionna looked up in alarm when she saw Ewan approach. She drew her sword and stepped in front of her father, but Ewan shoved her aside and she went reeling.
The hall erupted in chaos.
The McDonald men lunged for Ewan, and Ewan’s men reacted fiercely in protection of their laird.
“Protect the woman,” Ewan barked to Gannon.
Ewan was on McDonald before he could draw his sword. Ewan grabbed the older man by the tunic and slammed him against the wall.
McDonald’s face purpled with rage and his cheeks puffed out as Ewan drew the collar of his tunic tighter around his neck. “Ewan, what is the meaning of this?”
“Just how badly did you want me to marry your daughter?” Ewan asked in a dangerously low voice.
McDonald blinked in confusion before realization set in. Spittle peppered his lips as he huffed and made sounds of outrage. “Are you accusing me of poisoning Lady McCabe?”
“Did you?”
McDonald’s eyes narrowed in fury. He shoved at Ewan’s hands in an attempt to dislodge Ewan’s hold, but Ewan only slammed him into the wall again.
“This is war,” McDonald spat. “I won’t let this insult go unanswered.”
“If you want war, I’ll be more than happy to accommodate you,” Ewan hissed. “And when I’ve wiped the earth with your blood, your lands and all you hold dear will be mine. You want to speak of insults, Laird? You come into my home, partake of my hospitality, and you try to kill my lady wife?”
McDonald paled and stared hard into Ewan’s eyes. “I did not do this thing, Ewan. You have to believe me. Aye, I wanted Rionna to marry you, but a marriage with your brother will do just as well. I did not poison her.”
Ewan’s jaw twitched and his nostrils flared. Sweat broke out on McDonald’s forehead and he looked nervously left and right, but his men had easily been staved off by Ewan’s soldiers.
Rionna stood several feet away, her arms held by Gannon. She was spitting mad, and it took Gannon’s all to restrain her.
There was no guilt in McDonald’s eyes. Did he tell the truth? The timing of McDonald’s arrival and Mairin’s poisoning was too coincidental. Or was it only made to appear that way?
Ewan relaxed his hold and eased McDonald away from the wall. “You’ll excuse my rudeness but I want you and your men off my lands at once. My wife lies deathly ill and I know not if she’ll survive. Know this, McDonald. If she dies and if I discover you did this thing, there is no rock in all of Scotland that you can hide under, no corner you can seek refuge in.”
“W—What of our alliance?” McDonald babbled.
“All that concerns me right now is my wife. Go home, McDonald. Go home and pray that she lives. We’ll speak of our proposed alliance another day.”
He all but threw McDonald toward the door leading from the hall.
“Ewan! The lass is sick again. She’s retching something fierce. Nothing Caelen and I do seems to help.”
Ewan whipped around to see Alaric standing at the entrance to the hall, his expression haggard.
“See to their departure,” Ewan snapped at Gannon. “Escort them to our border and make sure they don’t linger.”
Then Ewan broke into a run, shoving past Alaric as he thundered up the stairs.
He burst into the chamber to see Caelen holding Mairin over the side of the bed as she gagged and heaved. Caelen looked desperate, and yet he held Mairin protectively against him, anchoring her as her entire body shook with the force of her retching.
Caelen looked up a
s Ewan charged toward the bed. “Ewan, thank God you’re here. I can’t make her stop and ’tis killing her!”
Ewan took Mairin’s limp body and cradled her in his arms. “Shh, sweeting. Breathe with me. Through your nose. You must stop the retching.”
“Sick,” she whimpered. “Please, Ewan, let me die. It hurts so much.”
His heart turned over and he hugged her tighter against him. “Just breathe,” he whispered. “Breathe for me, Mairin. The hurt will go away. I swear it.”
She clutched his tunic so tight that the material drew uncomfortably across his arms. Her body tensed, but this time she managed to hold back the urge to vomit.
“That’s it, lass. Hold on to me. I won’t let you go. I’m here.”
She buried her face against his neck and went limp. He lowered her to the bed then looked up at Caelen who stood by the bed, his face drawn in helpless fury.
“Wet a cloth so I can wipe her face.”
Caelen hastened to the washbasin. He wrung out the cloth and shoved it in Ewan’s direction. Ewan wiped Mairin’s brow and then ran the damp material over her mouth. She sighed but didn’t open her eyes as he cleaned the rest of her face.
She seemed to be over the spasms that wracked her stomach. She cuddled into his side and wrapped one arm around his middle. And then with a sigh, she slipped back into a deep sleep.
Ewan cupped the back of her head and pressed his lips to her forehead. The fact that she’d awakened was a good sign, but he hated to see her in such pain. Her body was trying to rid itself of the poison, and she was valiantly fighting the effects.
“Live,” he whispered. “I won’t let you die.”
Alaric, who’d followed Ewan back to the chamber, and Caelen looked discomfited by their brother’s uncharacteristic display of emotion. In that moment, Ewan didn’t care who saw him at his weakest.
“You care for her,” Alaric said gruffly.
Ewan felt something inside him loosen and unfold. Aye, he loved her, and he couldn’t bear the thought of losing her. By God, she was going to wake up, sass him, and then he’d seduce her into giving him the words he most wanted to hear.
Aye, she’d live, and then the difficult little lass was going to love him every bit as much as he loved her.
He looked to his brothers, who watched him with odd fascination. “I have need of your help. Someone tried to kill her. As much as it pains me, it has to be someone from our clan. We have a traitor in our midst and he must be flushed out or Mairin will never be safe. I can’t lose her. Our clan can’t lose her. She represents our salvation—and mine. If you won’t do it for her, your sister, then do it for me, your brother.”
Alaric went down to his knees by the bed and reached out and placed his fingers into Mairin’s limp hand. Caelen squared his shoulders and then he, too, got on his knees at Alaric’s side. He touched Mairin’s shoulder and his gaze softened as he stared down at her.
“You’ve always had our allegiance, Ewan,” Alaric said in a grave voice. “Our loyalty belongs to you. Now I pledge my allegiance and my loyalty to Mairin as well. I’ll protect her as your wife and my sister. I’ll place her safety above my own.”
Alaric’s solemn declaration sent a fierce surge of pride through Ewan.
“She’s a good lass,” Caelen said gruffly. “She’s a good mother to Crispen and a loyal wife. She’s a credit to you, Ewan. I would protect her with my life and seek justice for the wrongs committed against her. She’ll always have a place of honor in my eyes.”
Ewan smiled, knowing how difficult it must have been for Caelen to recite such a pledge. “Thank you. This means much to me. We must make sure she is safe from this day forward. She won’t be easy to contain when she is back on her feet.”
“You sound sure of her recovery,” Caelen said.
Ewan looked down again as hope burned in his gut like brimstone.
“Aye, I’m sure. The lass is too contrary to give in to death.”
Ewan met with his brothers late into the night. They sat in the hall with only a single candle to illuminate the dark room.
“We’ve questioned everyone who served, everyone in the kitchen, everyone who came into contact with the food, and everyone who was gathered in the hall,” Caelen reported.
“Gertie is distraught,” Alaric said grimly. “She’s sick that Mairin was poisoned. I don’t believe for a moment that Gertie was behind it even if she would have had the easiest opportunity of anyone. She’s been with our clan since before we were born. She was loyal to our father and has been steadfast since his death.”
Ewan didn’t believe it either, but he’d be a fool to discount the possibility. He couldn’t imagine anyone in his clan trying to kill Mairin. Why would they? She represented hope. She was their salvation and there wasn’t anyone who didn’t know that.
But someone had.
Gannon and Cormac entered the hall, their expressions grim. Fatigue lined their faces and they made a direct line toward Ewan.
“Laird, we have a report.”
Ewan gestured for them to sit.
Cormac took a seat but Gannon opted to stand, his agitation evident in the way he clenched and unclenched his fists.
“We’ve determined the source of the poison,” Gannon said.
“Tell me,” Ewan bit out.
“It wasn’t in the food. We tested pieces from all the remaining plates, including Lady McCabe’s. The poison was in a goblet. It was nearly full, so she didn’t drink much of it.”
“Thank God,” Ewan breathed. There was hope yet.
“Laird,” Cormac said painfully. “We don’t believe the goblet was Lady McCabe’s.”
Ewan thumped his fists on the table and leaned forward. “Whose was it then?”
Gannon blew out his breath. “We believe it was yours, Laird.”
At that, Caelen and Alaric nearly unsettled their chairs. “What the hell do you mean?” Caelen demanded.
“We spoke extensively with all the serving women. There were three goblets. One that Lady McCabe upended when she rose from the table. That was her goblet, but it wasn’t placed correctly and we don’t think she ever drank from it. She took your goblet and drank a small portion. It must have tasted badly to her because she pushed it to the side and summoned one of the serving women to bring you another goblet. Soon after, she grew ill.”
“But why …?” Ewan’s voice trailed off, and he looked up at his most trusted men and his brothers. “The arrow. The arrow wasn’t intended for Mairin at all. It was meant for me.”
“Jesu,” Alaric said in agitation. “Someone is trying to kill you, Ewan. Not Mairin.”
“It makes more sense,” Caelen said grimly. “No one gains if Mairin dies. That’s not the case if Ewan dies and leaves Mairin without a husband and without child.”
“Cameron is behind this and somehow, someway he’s infiltrated our clan. Someone here is doing his bidding. Twice he’s tried to kill me and twice Mairin has nearly died as a result.” Ewan’s fist met the table with a sickening crack as he snarled out the realization.
“Aye, but who?” Alaric asked.
“That’s what we must find out,” Ewan said. “And until we do, Mairin must be watched closely at all times. I won’t have her injured by another attempt on my life.”
CHAPTER 28
Harsh shouting interrupted Mairin’s nice, hazy dream. She couldn’t be sure it was a dream, but it was all nice and floaty and she wasn’t feeling any pain. She much preferred the nice, quiet float over the alternative.
Then she found herself being shaken until her brain seemed to rattle inside her head. The pain was back and she heard Ewan’s voice.
Oh, but the man did love to roar. He seemed to enjoy a good lecture, particularly when it was aimed at her.
“You are the most disobedient lass I’ve ever had the misfortune to meet,” Ewan snarled. “I order you not to die and you’re determined that you’ll do just that. You’re not the lioness who championed my son. She would n
ever give up as you’re giving up.”
Mairin frowned at his insult. It was just like him to act so shamefully when she was sick and dying. He acted as though she’d done it apurpose.
She heard him chuckle.
“Nay, lass, you might well be sick, but you’re not dying. You’re going to obey me this time or, as God as my witness, I’m going to turn you over my knee.”
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.