Never Love a Highlander (McCabe Trilogy #3)(10)

Then he jerked his gaze back to his wife.

There had never been a doubt that she was a comely woman. She had eyes of an unusual shade. Amber and golden. Much like her hair. Not red or even auburn, but not exactly blond either. Depending on which way the sun hit her, the locks were golden, sometimes russet, lighter and darker. A fascinating blend of the sky at sunset.

Aye, she could even be considered beautiful, if she weren’t always dressed as a man with dirt on her face and hands.

But now …

Jesus wept. The woman had br**sts. Who knew? He swallowed back the instant knot in his throat. He wouldn’t be expected to have such a reaction. By all accounts, he should have discovered this most interesting detail last night. When he was supposed to have bedded his new bride.

Where the hell had she hidden such a bounty of femininity?

And furthermore, why?

She was attired in a fine gown, one that seemed familiar to him. He glanced in Mairin’s direction, realizing that it had been made for her. On Mairin it had been handsome enough, but on Rionna it was spectacular.

Rionna looked … dainty. Not a word that would have ever come to mind before. Fragile and feminine. Her hair was swept up atop her head, and strands slid down her neck like little sips of sunshine.

She also looked extremely uncertain.

He arched an eyebrow at his little warrior as fear crowded into her eyes. He would have thought she’d cut her own throat before allowing anyone to see her fear.

But now, twice in less than a day, he’d seen fear and vulnerability in his bride’s eyes and it made him want to do daft things.

Like lie beside her all night because he worried he’d frighten her more if he bedded her.

He almost snorted. Of all the stupid things, that was probably the most. If his men knew of his sudden patience, they’d laugh him out of the keep.

Which was why he had to pretend he’d already seen the feast of feminine flesh that his wife now had on display.

He scowled at the ogling men and then stepped forward to assist his wife into her seat. He was still scowling when he greeted her, which was likely why tight lines appeared around her eyes and mouth.

He meant to tell her that she looked nice and he wholeheartedly approved of the change. What came out, however, was not what he planned.

“Why don’t you cover yourself properly? ’Tis indecent.”

She yanked her arm from his hand, fixed him with a glare that would shrivel a man’s cods, and then elegantly seated herself, leaving him to feel like the worst sort of tyrant.

He glared again at his men when they continued to stare with their tongues wagging about like they’d never set eyes on a lass.

“You look beautiful, Rionna,” Mairin said from across the table.

Guilt crept up Caelen’s neck. It should have been him who acknowledged how regal and, yes, beautiful, his wife looked. It shouldn’t be left to others to comment in order to remove his insensitive remarks.

And yet he couldn’t open his mouth to remedy his error.

“I’ve never seen a finer bride,” the king said with a broad smile.

Caelen scowled at the king and ignored Ewan’s look of reprimand.

David merely laughed and dug into his food.

“ ’Tis a good thing we’ve done, Ewan,” David said heartily as he wiped his mouth with the back of his arm.

Caelen wished he could be so sure this alliance was necessary. Still, his brother looked more at ease than he had in many months spent worrying over Mairin and Isabel and Duncan Cameron. And Alaric looked … content. For too long Alaric had been tormented by an impossible choice. The woman he loved or his loyalty to his clan. Having chosen wrong before, Caelen didn’t feel qualified to decide on such matters.

With everyone so bloody happy around him, it was hard to make the argument that the right thing hadn’t been done. The only problem was that he and Rionna seemed to be the only ones not happy.

Ewan cast a glance in Caelen’s direction before turning back to the king. “Aye, we’ve done a good thing.”

“As soon as the babe is well enough to sustain the journey, you must make haste to claim Neamh Álainn. ’Tis important to secure the last link in our stronghold.”

The king turned to Caelen. “ ’Tis the truth a winter storm is nigh, but ’tis also important that you travel back to McDonald keep. The alliance has been made, but I do not trust the former laird not to stir up dissension. It will be your task to bring the McDonalds under control and to honor the alliance with the McCabes.”

Rionna stiffened at the insult, and her head jerked up as she shot daggers at the king. Caelen’s hand shot out to grasp hers and he squeezed a warning.

“Forget you that I am a McCabe? Think you I would betray my kin? My brother?” He fought to keep his own anger under control. He and Rionna were sacrificing much for the good of their clans. He wouldn’t allow the insult to pass. “Just because the McDonald laird is without honor does not mean that his people are lacking as well.”

Rionna eased back into her chair, her rigid shoulders sinking as she relaxed the tiniest bit. When she turned her liquid golden stare on Caelen, he saw gratitude for his defense. And grudging respect.

“I meant no disrespect,” David said. “ ’Tis the truth, you’ll not have an easy time of it. The McDonalds won’t readily accept you as their laird. You’ll have to be on guard at every turn. Duncan Cameron will use any means to weaken our alliance. He’s a viper who must be disposed of.”