When Mairead realized she missed, icy fear twisted around her heart. For she also realized that she was not the only one armed. Ulrick had a blade in his hand. A full-size dirk.
* * *
Laurel winked at Hamish to calm him. He was a bundle of nerves. He had not realized just how badly he had wanted to marry Mairead. Once she vowed to be his, he would never lose her. A year from now she could not look at him and break his heart and walk away. He knew deep down that would not have happened, but once Father Lanaghly pronounced Mairead as his wife, there would no longer be even the tiniest of doubts.
“Do not worry. She will be down soon. Trust me, it is worth the wait,” Laurel said with a smile.
Donald Mackay clinked mugs with a group of men and then with a smile sat down beside him. “I have never been one to think much of alliances, but I am beginning to think you McTiernays are not such a bad lot.”
Hamish returned his grin. “You may have won the most games, neighbor, but my men won the most difficult.”
“Fine, be proud that your men can throw cabers accurately, Hamish, but my soldiers proved they would be the deadliest,” Conor claimed as he joined them.
“If we did not need to get this young laird married, the games would have lasted long enough for us Mackays to prove just who is best with every type of weapon.”
Conor rose his mug. “To future games.”
“To future games!”
And all three men downed their ale and signaled for more. “I must admit to admiring some of the skills displayed out there today.” Donald paused to wipe his mouth with his sleeve. “I had not realized some of my men were lacking in certain areas.”
Conor grimaced. “Me either. Finn has grown lax this winter.”
“At least both of yours have experience,” Hamish lamented. “I can teach a man to use a weapon, but it is different looking an enemy in the eye who is intent on killing you. Even the most highly trained man can freeze and fail to react in time.”
“Or at all,” Donald added, and swung his arm out for his mug to be refilled by a servant walking by with a tankard.
Conor swung his arm out as well. “I cannot bring the experience of war, nor do I wish to do so, but I think all of us might benefit from exchanging some of our soldiers.”
“Aye,” Hamish said, knowing how well it had worked between the McTiernays and Schelldens, Conor’s ally and neighbor.
With a twinkle in his eye, Donald chuckled. “I don’t suppose an understanding of how your ally works has anything to do with it.”
Conor McTiernay just widened his eyes in mock astonishment. “Now that would be another benefit.”
“I have nothing to hide,” Mackay said. “The spring?”
Hamish considered it. “How many?”
“How about a dozen men go to each in this alliance. Hamish sends a dozen to me and to you.” He gestured toward Donald. “I send a dozen to him and you, and you send a dozen to us.”
“Agreed, but only if we meet again in the fall. I want to settle once and for all the victor of the games.”
“Lairds can participate?” Hamish half stated, half asked.
Donald scoffed. “Of course.”
“Then I absolutely agree.”
Conor looked around. “Aren’t you supposed to be agreeing to something else soon?”
Hamish was about to answer when one of Donald Mackay’s men came up to him. “Laird?”
“It better be important,” Mackay barked. He was enjoying the conversation and really was not interested in settling bets.
“We were wondering why Ulrick is allowed to celebrate with us since he did not participate in any of the games. The man insulted us. He needs to be humiliated not pampered.”
Donald shook his head. “It was not I who invited that cac.”
Hamish froze. “Ulrick is here . . . inside Foinaven?”
The man nodded. The castle gates had been opened and there had been much traffic in and out of the tower entrance, but it had been carefully watched to ensure only those approved were allowed to enter. But the tower was not the only way inside Foinaven. And no one was guarding the keep’s hearth.
Hamish leapt to his feet and started running. He threw people out of his way and banged through the doors and into the night air. A moment later he was in the keep and taking steps two at a time in a rush to get to his solar where Mairead was prepping for their wedding. She had to be well. She had to. She was delayed because of her hair, her dress—anything but what his heart feared most.
That he was too late.
He rounded the last turn of the stairwell and saw the door open. There was no sound. Was that a good sign? He sprang to the entrance and glanced around. And then he looked down.
Mairead was on the floor, drenched in blood. Ulrick was on top of her. Both appeared to be dead.
“Noooooo!”
Hamish collapsed beside Mairead just as Conor and Donald Mackay arrived at the scene. “Murt!”
Conor grabbed Ulrick’s shoulders and threw him aside. Donald checked the man and lifted up his leine. There was a seven-inch gash across his abdomen. The man was dead. Mairead had killed him as he took her life.
Hamish gathered Mairead in his arms and held her close to him. “Do not leave, m’ aingeal.” He kissed her head, her cheeks, her mouth. “You promised me. You swore you would never leave me. I cannot live without you. I love you, Mairead. Do you hear me? I love you!”
Mairead sputtered and then inhaled as she was gasping for breath. She clung to Hamish as he squeezed her to him. “Oh my God, aingeal, you scared the hell out of me.”
Mairead began to pound on his chest and he suddenly realized that she was injured and began to look for her wound.
Free to breathe once again, Mairead inhaled deeply. Air, wonderful air. She had not thought she would breathe it again. When Ulrick had charged her the last time, her mind had gone blank and she just reacted, performing the defensive maneuver like she had done dozens of times over the past few weeks. Usually alone, but sometimes with Hamish as a prelude to their night together.
When it had worked and she saw blood bubble from Ulrick’s lips, relief had shot through her. But it had not lasted long. When he had fallen, she had been pinned between him and the bed and had not been able to move out of the way in time. He slammed on top of her, knocking the wind out of her. She had tried screaming for help again, but it only made things worse. Her last thoughts had been that Hamish was going to be furious with himself. He taught her how to win a knife fight, but he had forgotten to show her how to survive it.
Hamish could not find her injury. He was in a panic and about to rip her dress off when Mairead screamed, “Don’t you dare destroy this dress!”
Strong hands gripped his shoulders and he could hear Conor behind him. “Listen to her, Hamish. Mairead is not hurt. She just couldn’t breathe.”
“I’m fine. I’m not hurt. Really.”
“The blood,” Hamish mumbled as the fear that had been choking him finally released its hold.
“Ulrick’s blood,” Donald clarified.
Conor let go, seeing that they needed privacy. He pointed to Ulrick and he and Donald picked up the body and headed to the door. “We will deal with this.” The two older lairds left the room.
Hamish clutched Mairead to him once again, careful this time so that her face was not buried in his chest. “God, I love you, m’aingeal. If anything had happened . . . I’m so sorry. God, I’m so sorry.” Seeing her on the floor, icy terror had ricocheted through his veins. His life had passed before his eyes while crouching beside her, and it was empty and bleak. “I should have killed him when I had the chance. If anything ever happened to you, no one would be safe. No one. Not until I joined you.”
Mairead rubbed her arms up and down his back. “You did save me. Without your training, I would have died.”
Hamish just held her. “I love you, aingeal. Never again will I allow danger to come anywhere near you.”
Mairead snuggled against his chest. “Say it again.”
“I love you.” He kissed the top of her head.
“Again.”
She looked up at him and he held her gaze. “I would give my life for you.”
“I want the other words.”
He smiled then. “I will love you forever.”
She reached up and caressed his dimples. “And I love you, Hamish. With all my heart and soul. Never doubt that. Never think that I would leave you.”
“You heard me.”
She nodded. Hamish’s hand closed tightly around her fingers that were on his chest. He leaned down and brushed his mouth across the inside of her wrist in an incredibly soft, almost reverent kiss. Then he kissed her lips slowly, lingeringly, and with a possessiveness that left her with no doubt of his feelings. “I have loved you from the moment we met. I just was too afraid to say the words.”
Mairead smiled. “You loved me when I was covered in mud?”
“Aye, covered in mud.” He looked down at her. “I am not, however, partial to blood.”
Mairead followed his gaze. “Neither am I. And I so wanted to be married in this dress.”
Hamish raised his brows and a smile began to grow across his face. “You know what this means, don’t you?”
Mairead heard the mischievous tone in Hamish’s voice and was instantly wary. “No . . . what?”
He flashed his boyish grin and his dimples came fully to life. When he looked like this, Mairead could deny him nothing and he knew it. “We’ve missed sunset, so we have to wait another day. That will give you time to clean your dress and my men another day to beat Conor and the Mackays at some games. But sundown tomorrow, you best be in front of Father Lanaghly, because I don’t care if you are wearing one of Hellie’s old gowns, we will be wed.”
* * *
Hamish swung Mairead in his arms and ignored all the shouts as he left the hall and headed toward the keep. The grin that had been on his face from the moment Father Lanaghly pronounced them man and wife had only grown.
Mairead giggled. “Just what are you smiling about?”
He began to march up the stairwell. “I’m married. You are my wife. I’m a McTiernay laird. And if I died an hour from now, I would pass on as the happiest man on Earth.”
“An hour from now? Why not now?”
“In an hour, you will have nothing on and I will have made you scream in such pleasure that you have yet to imagine.”
“Promise?”
Hamish unashamedly shrugged his shoulders and entered their solar. He let her slide down his body. “I would marry you over and over again.”
“I didn’t realize how much you like weddings,” she breathed huskily.
He bent over and captured her lips in a searing kiss. “I don’t,” he said a moment later. “I love wedding nights.”
Epilogue
Mairead reached behind Selah to snatch a water bag that was sliding off the boulder they were leaning against. She took a sip. It usually did not get so warm this far north in late April, but today seemed to be an exception. “How much longer do you think Robert is going to need?”
Selah shrugged. Robert had been walking with Donald Mackay, studying an old Norse fort. The gatehouse being built at Foinaven was not complete, but it was close. Robert and Selah had been discussing his next project and started seeking out inquiries for a master mason. Both had been pleasantly surprised to learn that Donald Mackay was very interested. Like most clans, the Mackays had a large tower that served as fortress, but the Mackays had finally accumulated the wealth to build a stone castle. And the one he wanted built was not like the traditional ones scattered throughout Scotland, Wales, and Ireland.
Most were not only expensive to build but also to maintain. Stone was durable, but it still required upkeep. Robert had learned a technique that did not include mortar, enabling the structure to last for centuries. When Donald Mackay mentioned that he wanted to build Castle Varrich using this method, Robert quickly dismissed all the requests coming in for his support and accepted Donald’s offer.
The rapid beat of a horse’s hooves captured everyone’s attention. Hamish rode up to the group and quickly dismounted. Mairead tilted her cheek when he leaned down to kiss her. “You are making me nervous.”
“Why?”
“Because you are smiling.”
Selah had to agree. When Hamish flashed his dimples, it meant that either he was up to something or he knew something.
“A herald just came from the McTiernays.”
Mackay stepped closer. “Something going on with Conor?” In the past year, the two men had grown close and Donald now considered Conor McTiernay more than just an ally but a friend. He had met all the McTiernay brothers except for Colin, who lived in the Lowlands.
“Nothing going on with Conor,” Hamish answered. “But Conan has been busy.”
Mairead wrinkled her nose. She liked Conan. Or at least she did when he was not being insufferable. He was the second youngest of the McTiernay brothers and the most brilliant. But that sharp mind of his made him condescending to others, especially women. It was a good thing he never intended to marry but to travel around Scotland. “I thought he was leaving in the fall to begin mapping clan territories and the coastline. Did he decide to depart sooner?”
Hamish’s grin grew. “Better. He’s getting married in three weeks.”
Everyone froze upon hearing the news. They had to have heard wrong. Conan was extremely good-looking, but no woman could even tolerate him for very long. Their opinions never bothered him for he had grown tired of them the moment they opened their mouths to speak. He had been wise enough to be civil to Mairead for Hamish made it clear that anything less would result in bodily harm.
Mairead was the first to speak. “You are not serious.”
“The herald assured me that the news was accurate. Laurel must have known we would have doubts and sent an additional message letting us know that she could not be happier for Conan. That his bride was perfect for him and it was only love prompting this union.”
Mairead frowned, clearly not satisfied. “Well, that’s cryptic.”
“Very,” Selah affirmed, wishing for more information. What kind of woman would agree to marry Conan? Then again, what was it about her that could make Conan even think about tying himself to one woman?
“I agree, but Laurel’s message ended my own doubt. I can assume she is beautiful enough to catch his eye. I just hope she is intelligent enough to keep it.”
Donald coughed into his fist. “Are you sure this is Conan we are talking about?” He did not want to say it out loud, but the only way he could see a woman marrying Conan was if she was forced to do so.
Hamish spread his hands out. “From what the herald said, she is very enamored of him.”
Mairead now looked suspicious. “I don’t believe it. He is just not the type to get married.” Hamish let go a small snort. Mairead glared at him. “I mean it. Conan is brilliant, good-looking, and irritatingly arrogant. And he’s that way to men he respects. To women? He’s the most conceited, obnoxious creature of our encounter.”
Hamish nodded. “I have that from many a female, many a time. And yet,” he emphasized, “he is getting married.”
Robert moved around to stand next to his wife. He put a hand on Selah’s shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. “I have yet to meet him, but I have heard that he is either liked or hated.”
Selah sighed and rubbed her expanding belly unconsciously. “I wonder what she is like,” she murmured. “This woman who finally tamed Conan.”
“The only way to know is to meet her.” Donald Mackay crossed his arms over his chest. “My eldest son will not be pleased as he will have to remain behind, but this is one marriage ceremony that I must attend and see to believe.”
“Aye,” Hamish agreed. “I’ll let Amon or Ian decide who can manage Foinaven in my stead.” It would probably be Ian as he was far more reserved and less interested in matters
that involved the McTiernays. Amon, however, had come close to several of the McTiernay guards and had encountered Conan several times. All Hamish was sure of was that there was nothing that was going to prevent him from seeing this wedding. Everyone was going to be there. People who never traveled were going to be there. Even Colin, who lived in the Lowlands and had a growing family, would be there. It would be the largest celebration many would ever see, including him.
Robert moved to join the two men. “I’ve never met Conan, but I’ve heard of him and agree with Donald. I think I will join you both and witness this wedding in person.”
“Both?” Mairead piped in, her brows furrowed together. She turned to Selah and asked her, “Did your husband just say both?”
Selah pursed her lips together and nodded. She shifted to push her bulky body forward. She was not due for another three months, but she was much larger at this point in her pregnancy than she had been with her son, Rab. Mairead, who was a month behind her and had only recently begun to show, was just now able to eat again without fear of becoming violently ill. Both sisters were pregnant, but that did not mean they were staying home.
Selah blinked at Robert and smiled sweetly. “Robert, my love, when you said I, didn’t you mean that we”—she pointed to herself and then him—“will join you?”
Robert returned her stare with an incredulous one of his own. He knew what Selah was asking. She wanted to travel with them and the idea was completely absurd. “You cannot be serious.”
Selah was still the gentle soul she always had been, but things had changed in their marriage. He had embraced his future as a designer and builder of castles and now had more confidence. Selah, no longer forced to constantly make—or avoid—decisions that she hated, had also grown more self-assured. Neither of them had to constantly repress negative emotions. As a result, the few times they did not see things alike, they argued. And it looked like this was going to be one of those times, for he was not going to let his beautiful wife travel the countryside while pregnant.
Never Kiss a Highlander Page 41