She scooted closer to him, pressing her soft curves to his side. His body reacted immediately. He was instantly hard, and his current position prevented him from shifting to alleviate the growing discomfort. If he adjusted, he would unseat Mairin, and he didn’t want her to move away from him.
So he sat and grew more uncomfortable bupted inment.
Midway through the feast, the flute player began a particularly merry tune. It was lively and fast and dozens of feet began a rhythmic tapping on the floor. Mairin clapped her hands together and let out a sound of pure delight.
“Do you dance, lass?” Ewan asked.
She gave a wistful shake. “Nay, there was never dancing in the abbey. I’m probably clumsy at it.”
“I’m not exceedingly graceful myself,” Ewan said. “We’ll muddle through it together.”
She gifted him with another smile and impulsively squeezed his hand. He made a sudden vow that no matter how foolish he looked, he would dance with her as long as she wished it.
“Laird, Laird!”
One of his watchmen ran into the hall, sword drawn. He searched Ewan out and immediately set out for the end of the table. Ewan rose, his hand automatically going to Mairin’s shoulder in a protective gesture.
The soldier was out of breath when he came to a halting stop a mere foot from where Ewan stood. Alaric and Caelen shot up from their seats and waited for the news.
“An army approaches, Laird. I received word but a moment ago. They carry Duncan Cameron’s banner. They come from the south and were two hours from our border at last report.”
CHAPTER 13
Ewan found Mairin’s hand again and gripped it so tight that she winced from the pain of it.
“Gather the troops. Assemble in the courtyard. Wait for me,” Ewan commanded.
He started to drag Mairin from the table when Alaric called out. “Where in the hell are you going, Ewan?”
“I have a marriage to consummate.”
Openmouthed, Mairin found herself hauled toward the stairs. Ewan bounded up the steps, and she was forced to run to keep pace, or be dragged behind him.
He shoved her into his chamber and slammed the door behind him. She watched in befuddlement as he began stripping out of his clothing.
“Take off your dress, lass,” he said, as he tossed aside his tunic.
Completely bewildered, Mairin sagged onto the edge of the bed. He wanted her to undress? He was busy pulling his boots off, but it was her duty to undress him. He didn’t have the right of it at all.
Thinking to instruct him on his error, she rose and hurried over to stay his progress. For a moment, he halted and stared at her as if she were daft.
“ ’Tis my duty to undress you, Laird. ’Tis the wife’s duty,” she corrected. “We’re married now. I should undress you in our chambers.”
Ewan’s gaze softened and he reached out to cup her cheek. “Forgive me, lass. This time will be different. Duncan Cameron’s army approaches. I don’t have the time to woo you with sweet words and a soft touch.” His forehead creased and he grimaced. “It will have to be a quick bedding.”
She looked up at him in confusion. Before she could question him further, he began tugging at the laces on her dress. When he didn’t immediately have the bodice undone, he pulled impatiently.
“Laird, what are you doing?” she stammered out.
She gasped in surprise when the material ripped and fell over her shoulders. She tried to lift the dress back up, but Ewan pushed downward, leaving her in only her undergarments.
“Laird,” she began, but Ewan hushed her by taking her shoulders and pressing his lips to hers. As he maneuvered her to the bed, he managed to divest her of the rest of her clothing.
His trews hit the floor, and she felt something hot and hard brush against her belly. When she looked down and saw what it was, her mouth gaped open and she stared in horror at the jutting appendage.
He captured her chin and directed her gaze upward again. As his mouth covered hers, he lowered her to the bed until she lay on her back and he hovered just above her, his arm pushed into the bedding to prevent his full weight from bearing down on her.
“Spread your legs, Mairin,” he rasped against her lips.
Confounded by the entire experience, she relaxed her thighs and then squeaked in dismay when Ewan’s hand slipped between her legs and stroked his thumb through the delicate folds.
His mouth slipped down the side of her neck. Chill bumps raced over her shoulders and to her breasts as his lips fastened against the flesh just below her ear. It was oddly exciting and it stirred breathless feelings of … she wasn’t sure how to describe any of it. But she liked it.
“I’m sorry, lass.” His voice was heavy with regret. “I’m so damned sorry.”
She frowned as she gripped his shoulders. His body moved over hers, covering her with his heat and hardness. What was he sorry for? It didn’t seem appropriate to offer apology in the middle of loving.
She felt him, hard as steel, as he probed between her thighs. It took a moment for her to realize what he was probing with. Her eyes flew open and her fingers dug into his skin.
“Ewan!”
“Forgive me,” he whispered.
He thrust forward, and the hazy euphoria she’d experienced just moments before disappeared as pain tore her in half when he ripped through her body.
She cried out and pounded his shoulders with clenched fists. Tears slipped down her cheeks and he swept them away with his mouth as he rained kisses over her face.
“Shhh, lass,” he crooned.
“It hurts!”
“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I’m so sorry, Mairin. But I can’t stop. We must finish this.”
He moved tentatively, and she hit him again. He’d torn her in two. There was no other explanation for it.
“I haven’t torn you apart,” he said gruffly. “Be still a moment. The pain will go away.”
He withdrew, and she flinched as her body tugged tightly at him. Then he pushed forward again, and she whimpered at the fullness.
A shout in the hallway made her go rigid. Ewan cursed and then began moving again. She lay there in shock, unable to process or put a name to the uncomfortable sensation that welled within.
Once, twice, and once again he pushed into her, and then he tensed against her and held himself so still that she could hear the violent thud of his heartbeat.
Just as suddenly, he rolled away, and she felt sticky wetness between her legs. Not having any idea what it was she was supposed to do next, she lay there trembling as her husband hurried to dress.
After he pulled on his boots, he returned to the bed and slipped his arms underneath her. Maybe now he would offer the tender words a husband was supposed to say after loving. But he simply picked her up and cradled her in his arms for a moment. Then he carried her to the bench in front of the fire and set her down.
She blinked and watched as he stripped the linen from the bed and examined the bloodstain in the middle. Curling it into his hand, he glanced over at her, his eyes brimming with apology.
“I must go, lass. I’ll send one of the women to tend you.”
He left the chamber, shutting the door behind him, and Mairin stared after him in complete disbelief over what had just transpired.
A moment later, Maddie bustled in, sympathy burning bright in her eyes.
“There, there, lass,” Maddie said, as she gathered Mairin in her arms. “You look too pale, and your eyes are much too wide. I’ll have hot water brought up to you. ’Twill soothe your aches and pains.”
Mairin was too mortified to ask Maddie any of the questions swirling around her mind. She sat there, numb to her toes, while the battle cry rose from the courtyard and then the sound of hundreds of horses thundering across the land drowned out everything else.
Then her gaze flickered across the discarded dres on the floor. He’d torn her dress. Her wedding dress. After every other bewildering thing that had occurred this day, the dress shouldn’t have upset her so. But tears welled in her eyes, and before she could call them back, warm trails trickled down her cheeks.
Maddie left her to replace the linens on the bed. She bustled around the chamber, though it was clear she had no task to do.
“Please,” she whispered to Maddie. “I just want to be alone.”
Maddie eyed her dubiously, but when Mairin reinforced her request, Maddie reluctantly turned away and left the chamber. Mairin stayed on the bench for a long moment, her knees huddled to her chest as she stared into the dwindling fire. Then she got up to wash the stickiness from her body. When she was done, she crawled onto the bed and huddled underneath the clean linens, too tired and distraught to worry over Duncan Cameron’s army.
Ewan led his men over the hilltops and down the steep southern boundary of their lands, his two brothers flanking him. Another rider had ridden furiously to give Ewan an update. Cameron’s men were approaching without delay.
There would be no time to stage a surprise attack, and in truth, Ewan had no desire for one. He rode with the might of his entire army, save only a contingent that remained behind to guard the keep. There was no doubt they’d be outnumbered, but the McCabe soldiers made up in might what they lacked in numbers.
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