Never Love a Highlander (McCabe Trilogy #3)(15)

“He’s tried to kill Alaric. He’s sent traitors into the very heart of our clan. I should be here. Where I can protect my family. Not playing laird to a people who have no more desire for me as their laird as I have to be one.”

“It wasn’t my choice,” she said fiercely.

“Aye, I know it. ’Tis no matter, though. We are both bound by duty. We have no choice in the matter.”

She closed her eyes and turned away so that they stood side by side, gazes fixed anywhere but on each other.

“Why did you do it then, Caelen? Why did you really do it? You could have remained silent. Why did you step forward to marry me if ’twas such a distasteful chore?”

He was silent for a long moment before he finally acknowledged her question.

“Because I could not bear to see my brother wed to you when he loved another.”

Pain tightened her chest again.

“I hope one day your answer will be different,” she said quietly as she turned to walk back toward the keep.

CHAPTER 5

It was late when Caelen mounted the stairs to go up to his chamber. He and his brothers had planned late into the night, and on the morrow, he would make his journey to McDonald keep with his new wife to take over his duties as laird.

Not surprisingly, Gregor McDonald had taken his leave, and a dozen of his best soldiers had departed with him—men that Caelen couldn’t afford to lose.

The former laird had slunk away like a defeated coward. He hadn’t even bothered to bid his daughter goodbye. Not that Caelen ever wanted him close to Rionna again.

Aye, ’twas a good thing for the McDonald clan. The question was whether they’d recognize that fact and embrace Caelen as their new laird. Of course they would not. Maybe a few. But Caelen could only imagine how he would feel if he was suddenly presented with a new laird he had no knowledge of.

He’d never considered that he’d have the duties of laird. That had always fallen to Ewan and then to his heirs. Caelen was a third son and his duty had always been to support his laird. To be unfailingly loyal and offer his life for Ewan and his wife and children.

It was a daunting task before him. He didn’t know if he was up to it. What if he failed not only his new clan, but his brother and his king? Not to mention his new wife.

Caelen hated the insecurity that plagued him and he’d never admit it to anyone save himself. He may not be convinced that he was the best man to lead the McDonalds, but they’d never know that. Any show of weakness would be a clear sign to them that he was not worthy of the mantle of leadership, and he’d die before he’d allow that to happen.

Nay, he must be strong. And show no mercy right from the start. It was imperative that Caelen have their respect, for he had much work ahead of him in order to shape them into as formidable a force as the McCabe warriors.

To his surprise, when he opened the door to his chamber, Rionna was inside, still awake. She was sitting by the fire, her hair unbound and streaming to her waist. The tresses reflected the glow of the flames and shone like spun gold.

He’d fully expected her to retreat to her chamber and avoid him at all costs.

She didn’t hear him at first, and he took the opportunity to study her slender shape. It amused him that she’d re-bound her br**sts. It was quite remarkable how well the binding hid her lush curves. ’Twas a sin to hide such beauty.

As if sensing his stare, she turned slowly, her hair sliding over one shoulder.

“You should be asleep,” he said gruffly. “ ’Tis late and we depart in the morning.”

“So soon?”

“Aye. We must make haste.”

“ ’Tis snowing. The storm has set in.”

Caelen nodded and sat on the edge of the bed. He pulled at his boots and tossed them aside. “ ’Tis likely to snow the night through. The going will be slow, but if we wait for the weather to break, we’ll be here until spring.”

Rionna went quiet. Confusion mirrored in her eyes. But she hesitated, her lips drawn as if she battled indecision.

He waited, not wanting to do any more that would put them at odds. He seemed to have the ridiculous habit of shoving his foot into his mouth every time he opened it.

“Will you be wanting to get on with it tonight?”

His eyebrows drew together and his forehead wrinkled as he stared back at her. “Get on with what, lass?”

She gestured toward the bed, color surging into her cheeks, painting them a dusky rose he found fascinating. Realization hit him, and again he was struck by how protective her hesitancy made him.

“Come here, Rionna.”

For a moment he thought she was going to disobey him. Then with a sigh, she rose gracefully from her place by the fire and walked toward him, her hair shimmering down her back like a lighted torch.

When she was close enough, he drew her between his thighs and gathered her hands in his.

“If I expect you to mount a horse tomorrow, and ’tis obvious I do, then I’ll not be doing anything tonight that would make you too tender for the ride.”

Her blush deepened and she ducked her head.

He squeezed her hands so she’d look back at him. “However, when we do get around to consummating our marriage, you have nothing to fear, lass. I’ll not do anything that frightens or hurts you.”

She didn’t look entirely convinced. She nervously licked her bottom lip, leaving it shiny and moist in the glow of the firelight.