The Highlander Series(37)
When the last soldier bowed before Mairin, Ewan took her elbow to guide her toward the table where Gertie and the kitchen maids were busy setting out the trenchers for the wedding feast. In the corner, a small group of talented musicians gathered to play a set of lively tunes. After the feast there would be dancing and merriment until the bedding ceremony at sundown.
Ewan shared his place at the head of the table with Mairin. He wanted her seated beside him in a position of honor.
He called for a chair to be placed adjacent to his, and when the trenchers were laid and the first course served, he offered her the choicest bites from his serving.
Seemingly delighted by his regard, she allowed him to offer her tender bites of meat from his dagger. She smiled up at him so dazzlingly that for a moment he forgot to breathe. Shaken by the effect she had on him, he nearly knocked over the mug containing ale.
Alaric and Caelen sat on either side of Ewan and Mairin. After the last of the people sitting at the main table had been served, Alaric rose from his seat and asked for silence. Then he held up his goblet and glanced down at Ewan and Mairin.
“To the laird and his lady!” he called. “May their marriage be blessed with health and many sons.”
“Or daughters,” Mairin muttered so low that Ewan almost didn’t catch it.
His mouth twitched as he listened to the rest of his clan roar agreement. He raised his goblet and inclined his head in Alaric’s direction.
“And may our daughters all be as beautiful as their mother.”
Mairin gasped softly and turned shining eyes on Ewan. Her smile lit up the entire room. To his utter shock, she suddenly bolted up, grabbed his face between her hands, and gave him a lusty kiss that curled his toes.
The room erupted in a chorus of cheers. Even Caelen looked amused. When Mairin pulled away, Ewan was hard-pressed to remember his own name.
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 by the moment.
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 cursed long and hard. Alaric’s and Caelen’s expressions grew stormy, but something else glimmered in their eyes. Anticipation.
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.”