by Maya Banks
The king rose, his expression dark as he stared at the goings-on. “Is this true, Laird McDonald? Did you try to rape a child under your own care and protection? And you attacked her once again under Laird McCabe’s roof?”
The laird remained silent as he nursed his bloodied mouth.
“Aye, he did,” Rionna said quietly. “I was there.”
“Disloyal bitch!” the laird spat.
Caelen rounded on the laird again. “ ’Tis my future wife you insult. I would suggest you strongly reconsider any words you have to say to her in the future.”
The king rubbed his fingers wearily over the bridge of his nose. “What think you of this, Ewan? Can we still salvage this alliance and will the others join with us in our cause?”
Ewan lifted a brow and then surveyed the occupants of the hall, most of whom had remained silent as they observed what had transpired between the McDonalds and the McCabes.
“Why don’t you ask them?”
The king chuckled. “A sound idea indeed, Ewan.”
He raised his hands for quiet and then addressed the crowded room. “What say you, Lairds? If Caelen McCabe marries Rionna McDonald and seals Neamh Álainn to the McCabe lands here via the alliance with the McDonalds, will you join with us in our fight against Duncan Cameron and Malcolm?”
One by one, the lairds stepped forward, the only sound, their boots scraping against the floor.
“I refuse to ally myself with a coward who preys on children,” one laird called out. “If Caelen McCabe becomes laird upon his marriage to Rionna McDonald, then aye, I’ll join and swear my allegiance to Your Majesty and to the McCabes.”
The other lairds nodded and voiced their agreement.
“There is but one last question to ask,” Caelen spoke up.
All heads turned in his direction, but he turned his gaze on Rionna, who still stood ramrod straight and pale in the center of the room.
“Are you willing to wed with me and not Alaric McCabe, Rionna McDonald?”
Rionna stared at her father and shook her head in a gesture of sorrow. Finally she looked up at Caelen and met his gaze with her captivating golden eyes.
“Aye, Caelen McCabe. You have proven a worthy and loyal friend to Keeley and brother to Alaric.”
“And do you support me becoming laird upon our marriage and for your father to step down?”
This time she didn’t even hesitate. “I do not want him on our lands.”
The room buzzed with shock over her words. Laird McDonald blanched and then shoved himself upward again. “You ungrateful bitch! Where do you think me to go?”
“I care not. But you are not welcome on McDonald lands any longer.”
Caelen lifted an eyebrow in surprise and then exchanged glances with Alaric. Neither of the brothers had expected such. It was evident from the McDonalds’ earlier visits that there was tension between father and daughter, but they weren’t prepared for Rionna’s emotionless dictate.
“ ’Tis settled then,” the king said. “ ’Twould appear we have a wedding to attend after all.”
CHAPTER 39
Alaric met Caelen just as Alaric was about to enter Keeley’s bedchamber. “Give her my love and tell her I never doubted her for a second,” Caelen said with faint amusement.
“I will. And Caelen, thank you. I don’t even know what to say. That you would step in like that for me and for Keeley. Neither of us can ever hope to repay you.”
Caelen smiled. “I learned a lot from your lass, Alaric. I’ve never met someone as fiercely loyal and selfless as her. She refused to allow me to tell you of McDonald’s attack because she knew what you would do and she worried it would ruin the marriage between you and Rionna. She knew how much this alliance meant to our clan, and since she considers the McCabes her family now, she was willing to put aside her own personal wants and desires to do what she thought was best for her family. How could I do anything less?”
“Have a care with Rionna,” Alaric warned. “Mairin worried that I’d be too hard on her, and if she worried that about me, I can only imagine her fears of how you’ll be.”
Caelen snorted.
“Mairin seems to think we all want to handle her with a strong hand and crush the part of her that makes her special.” Alaric shrugged. “I have no idea what she means, but there you have it. I’m sure it has something to do with the fact that she goes around in man’s clothing and can wield a sword and ride a horse better than most warriors.”
“She’ll do as I tell her,” Caelen said lazily.
“I wish now I was there to witness it.”
“Go now and see your lady. Your wife,” Caelen amended.
Alaric clapped Caelen on the shoulder and then entered Keeley’s chamber. To his surprise, Gannon sat on the bed next to Keeley, wiping her brow with a damp cloth.
He nearly laughed. Keeley had made conquests of them all. It wouldn’t surprise him if the whole of the clan took a turn caring for Keeley.
Gannon looked up and saw Alaric. “Maddie took Mairin down so she could nurse the babe. I was to care for her until one of you returned.”
Alaric nodded then motioned for Gannon to get up. “How is she? Has she been conscious?”
“She’s sweating off the fever and has been so hot that we’ve had to open the window to let cooler air in. She drifts in and out, though I think she’s more sleeping than being unconscious.”
Alaric breathed in sweet relief and savored the taste on his tongue.
“You can go now. I’ll take care of her from now on.”
Gannon paused at the door. “What happened down there? There was talk of the king commanding you to set Keeley aside.”
Alaric smiled. “Aye, he did.”
Gannon scowled and his shoulders puffed up like he was about to explode.
“I declined.”
Gannon lifted an eyebrow in shock. “You said nay to the king?”
“Aye, I did,” Alaric said ruefully. “ ’Twas easier than I thought it would be.”
“What will happen?”
“ ’Tis a long story and if you’ll go find Caelen, I’m sure he’ll be more than happy to fill you in. Right now, I have need to see my lady wife and tell her I love her again.”
Gannon smiled and beat a hasty retreat from the room.
Alaric hastened to Keeley’s side and tucked himself in next to her. She cuddled against his body and he absorbed the delightful sensation of her flesh against his, so warm and soft. Delicate and infinitely fragile against his much larger frame.
She was a miracle. His miracle. One he’d thank God for every day for the rest of his life.
“Alaric?” she whispered.
“Aye, love?”
“Are you setting me aside? Because I’ll tell you ’tis a rotten thing to do after I live. I’ll not go so quietly this time. You’re my husband, and I won’t just give up my husband so he can marry another.”
The petulance in her voice made him chuckle. She sounded supremely irritated and aggrieved that such a thing was possible.
He kissed her nose and laid his cheek against hers. “Nay, love. You’re stuck with me, I’m afraid. I’ve defied the king and my brother and about twelve other clans in the process, not to mention the bastard Laird McDonald who you did not tell me had attacked you just days ago.”
“Mmm, you did all that for me?” she asked sleepily.
“Aye, I did.”
She smiled against his neck. “I love you. Did I tell you that I strongly considered dying but that I couldn’t stand the thought of never seeing you, even if you were married to another woman?”
He scowled down at her and touched her chin so that she’d look straight into his eyes. “You’ll not ever even think of such a thing again, do you hear? I forbid you from dying.”
“Very well then, since you forbid it, I should tell you that I plan to make a full recovery. The wound is very painful and ’tis the truth I feel like retching every time I move wrong, but I plan to be up and
around in a week’s time, mark my words.”
He chuckled at the arrogant words and then hushed her with a gentle kiss to her mouth.
“I love you, Keeley McCabe. You are truly a McCabe now. We are married in the eyes of God and our clansmen. All that is required now is the consummation.”
She groaned. “That part’s going to have to wait awhile.”
He hugged her to him as carefully as he was able and he just held on, absorbing the sheer joy of having her alive, belonging to him, of being able to tell the world he loved her.
“I’ll wait as long as it takes, my love. We have the rest of our lives to consummate our marriage. In fact, I think we should make it a point to consummate it on a daily basis. After you are well, of course.”
She sighed and pressed her cheek to his chest. “I love you, Alaric McCabe. And I’m willing to do a trial run of our consummation next week if you should so desire.”
He laughed and maneuvered so he could capture her lips in a long, delicious kiss. “ ‘So desire’? Lass, there isn’t anything I desire more in this world than a life with you filled with love, laughter, and children.”
She yawned and closed her eyes, and he watched her drift off to sleep against his chest. Surely there was not a more precious sight than her sprawled over his body, and no sweeter knowledge than the fact that she was truly his. For as long as they drew breath.
Never Love a Highlander is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
A Ballantine Books Original
Copyright © 2011 by Maya Banks
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Ballantine Books, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
BALLANTINE and colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.
eISBN: 978-0-345-51952-8
Cover illustration: Alan Ayers
www.ballantinebooks.com
v3.1
For Telisa
Contents
Master - Table of Contents
Never Love a Highlander
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Other Books by This Author
CHAPTER 1
The weather for her first wedding had been a splendor of nature. An unseasonably warm day in January. Quite balmy with nary a breeze to ruffle her carefully arranged hair. It was as if the world stood still to witness the joining of two souls.
A snort rippled from Rionna McDonald’s throat, eliciting a raised eyebrow from her soon-to-be husband.
The weather for her second wedding? Gloomy and dank with a winter storm pushing in from the west. Already a brisk chill had set in and the wind blew in fierce, relentless sheets. As if the world knew just how uncertain she was about the man who stood beside her, ready to recite the vows that would bind him to her forever.
A shiver skirted up her spine despite the fact that they stood in front of the huge fire in the great hall.
Caelen frowned and stepped closer to Rionna as if to shield her from the draft blowing through the furs at the window. She took a hasty step back before thinking better of it. The man made her nervous, and not many people intimidated her.
He frowned harder, then turned his attention back to the priest.
Rionna cast a quick glance around, hoping no one had witnessed that particular exchange. It wouldn’t do for people to think she was afraid of her new husband. Even if she was.
Ewan McCabe, the oldest McCabe brother and the first man she was supposed to have married, stood by his brother’s side, his arms crossed over his broad chest. He looked anxious to be done with the whole thing.
Alaric McCabe, the man she’d very nearly wed after Ewan got himself married to Mairin Stuart, also looked impatient and kept glancing toward the stairs as if he might run out at any moment. Rionna couldn’t blame him, though. His new wife, Keeley, was above stairs recovering from a wound that had nearly ended her life.
Third time was a charm, right?
King David wasn’t standing for the occasion. He sat regally by the fire, looking on with approval as the priest droned on. Around him, also sitting, were the many lairds from neighboring lands. All waiting for the alliance between the McDonalds and the McCabes. An alliance that would be sealed upon her marriage to Caelen McCabe, the youngest–and last–McCabe brother.
It was important to denote last because if anything went amiss with this wedding, there were no more McCabes for her to marry, and at this point, her pride couldn’t withstand another rejection.
Her gaze skittered from the king and assembled lairds to her dour-faced father who sat away from the assembled warriors, an unmanly, sullen pout twisting his features.
For a moment their stares locked and then his lip turned up into a snarl. She hadn’t supported him in his bid to keep his position of laird. It was probably disloyal of her. She wasn’t sure that Caelen McCabe would be a better laird, but surely he was a better man.
She became aware that all eyes were on her. She glanced nervously toward the priest and realized that she’d missed her cue to recite her vows. Even more embarrassing, she had no idea what the man had said.
“This is where you promise to obey me, cleave only unto me, and remain faithful all your days,” Caelen drawled.
His words stiffened her spine and she couldn’t call back the glare as she speared him with her gaze.
“And what exactly are you promising me?”
His pale green eyes stroked coolly over her, assessing and then lifting as if he found nothing of import. She didn’t like that look. He’d all but dismissed her.
“You’ll gain my protection and the respect due a lady of your station.”
“That’s all?”
She whispered the words, and she’d have given anything not to have let them slip. It was no wonder she’d been left wanting, though. Ewan McCabe clearly adored his wife, Mairin, and Alaric had just defied king and country to be with the woman he loved—effectively casting Rionna aside in the process.
Not that she was angry. She dearly loved Keeley, and Keeley deserved happiness. That a man as strong and handsome as Alaric had publicly proclaimed his love for Keeley gladdened Rionna’s heart.
But it also brought home how sterile her own marriage would be.
Caelen made a sound of exasperation. “Exactly what is it that you want, lass?”
She raised her chin and stared back at him every bit as cool. “Nothing. ’Tis enough. I’ll have your respect and your regard. I won’t be needing your protection, though.”
His eyebrow rose. “Is that so?”
“Aye. I can see to my own protection.”
Caelen chuckled and more laughter rose from the assembled men. “Say your vows, lass. We don’t have all day. The men are hungry. They’ve been waiting a feast f
or nearly a fortnight now.”
Agreement rumbled through the room and her cheeks burned. This was her wedding day and she wouldn’t be rushed. Who cared about the food and the men’s stomachs?
As if sensing that she was working herself into a righteous fury, Caelen reached over, snagged her hand, and pulled her up next to his side until his thigh burned into hers through the material of her dress.
“Father,” Caelen said respectfully, “if you’ll tell the lass what she needs to say again.”
Rionna fumed the entire way through the recitation. Tears pricked her eyelids but she couldn’t even say why. It wasn’t as if she and Alaric had been a love match any more than she and Caelen were. The entire idea of wedding one of the McCabe brothers had been hatched by her father and embraced by the McCabes and the king himself.
She was but a pawn to be used and discarded.
She sighed and then shook her head. It was ridiculous to be this maudlin. There were worse things. She should be happy. She’d rediscovered the sister of her heart in Keeley, who was now happily married even if she faced a long recovery in the days ahead. And Rionna’s father would no longer be laird of their clan.
She chanced another look only to see her father throw back yet another goblet of ale. She supposed she couldn’t entirely blame him for being so deep into his cups. His entire way of life was gone in a moment’s time. But she couldn’t muster any regret.
Her clan could be great—would be great—under the right leadership. It had never been her father. He’d weakened the McDonald name until they’d been reduced to begging for the aid and alliance of a stronger clan.
Her free hand curled into a tight fist at her side. It had been her dream to restore their glory. To shape the soldiers into a formidable fighting force. Now it would be Caelen’s task and she would be relegated to a position of observation rather than the participation she craved.
She gasped in surprise when Caelen suddenly leaned in and brushed his lips across hers. He was gone almost before she registered what he’d done and she stood there staring wide-eyed as she raised a trembling hand to her mouth.