Finally, a place away from the rest of the clan where she could have a private weep and lament her husband’s disgraceful behavior.

CHAPTER 22

It was important that Ewan not go chasing after his wife, especially in front of his men. It was obvious the lass had no idea what she’d gottenself into. He’d give her time to cool down and then he would instruct her on the way of things.

He turned back to the men who stood behind him. Gertie was already putting the evening meal on the table, and judging by the smell, it had been a good hunting day for the men assigned to bring fresh meat into the keep.

“Do I have my position back, Laird?” Arthur asked.

Ewan nodded wearily. “Aye, Arthur. You’ve a fine hand with the horses. However, I’ve had enough of your incessant bickering with Magnus, and ’tis obvious that it upsets your mistress.”

Arthur didn’t look happy but he nodded and hurried away to take his seat. Magnus looked as though he wanted to make a jibe at Arthur but Ewan’s fierce scowl stopped him. He, too, took his seat—at a table over from where Arthur had sat.

Ewan took his seat and was followed by his men. When Maddie made her way by to fill his trencher, he stopped her.

“When you are finished serving the men, take a tray up to your mistress. She’s in her chamber, and I don’t want her to miss the evening meal.”

“Aye, Laird, I’ll see to it immediately.”

Satisified that his wife wouldn’t go hungry and that, for the moment, all arguing was done, he dove into his portion, savoring the taste of the fresh venison.

By letting Mairin get over her upset, chances were that by the time he retired to their chamber, the initial storm would be over. He congratulated himself for his brilliant analysis and had a second helping of the stew.

A half hour later, however, when Maddie hurried into the hall to tell him that his wife was not in their chamber, he realized that his mistake was believing anything would be simple when it came to his impulsive wife.

She made him feel incompetent, and that his efforts to keep her safe were haphazard at best. None of that was true, but it raised his ire because he hadn’t felt a moment of self-doubt since he was a lad. He could train and lead an entire army. He could win a battle when he was outnumbered five to one. But he couldn’t keep a slip of a lass under control. It defied all reason and was making him daft in the process.

He pushed away from the table and stalked in the direction that Mairin had left. It was obvious she hadn’t gone up the stairs, so he continued past to the doorway leading outside the keep.

“Have you seen your mistress?” he called to Rodrick who was up on the wall.

“Aye, Laird. She came by half hour past.”

“And where is she now?”

“She’s in the bathhouses. Gregory and Alain are watching over her. She’s having a good cry, but otherwise, she is well.”

Ewan winced and heaved a sigh. He much preferred her spitting like an angry kitten "0em">female tears and even less experience in dealing with them.

He went in the direction of the bathhouses. Gregory and Alain were standing outside one of the walls and they looked vastly relieved when Ewan strode up.

“Thank goodness you’re here, Laird. You must make her stop. She’s going to take ill with so much crying,” Alain said.

Gregory frowned. “It isn’t right for a lass to cry so much. Whatever it is you have to promise her, please do so. She’s going to drown herself!”

Ewan held up a hand. “Thank you for your protection. You can go now. I’ll see to your mistress.”

They did a sorry job of hiding their obvious relief. As they left, Ewan heard the light sniffles that came from the inside of the bathhouses. Damn, but he hated the idea of her crying.

He stepped inside the dark interior and glanced around, blinking to adjust to the darkness. He followed the sounds of the sniffling until he found her sitting on a bench along the far wall. She was partially silhouetted by a sliver of moonlight that crept in through the narrow window carved into the stone, and he could see that her head was bowed, her shoulders slumped forward.

“Go away.” Her muffled voice filtered through the crumbling bathhouse.

“Ah, lass,” he said as he sat beside her on the bench. “Don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying,” she said in a voice that clearly indicated she was.

“ ’Tis a sin to lie,” he offered, knowing it would get her back up.

“ ’Tis a sin to do nothing but yell at your wife, too,” she said mournfully. “You promised to cherish me, aye, you did, but ’tis God’s truth I don’t feel very cherished.”

He sighed. “Mairin, you sorely try my patience. I imagine you’ll continue to exasperate me for years to come. I can tell you this won’t be the only time I yell at you. If I told you differently I’d be lying.”

“You embarrassed me in front of your men,” she said in a low voice. “In front of that cretin stable master. He’s a toad and shouldn’t be allowed near a horse.”

Ewan touched her cheek and brushed a long strand behind her ear so he could better see her face. He winced when he felt the dampness of her skin.

“Listen to me, sweeting. Arthur and Magnus have been arguing in one form or fashion since before I was born. The day they stop arguing will be the day we lay them in the ground. They came to me about the horse, but I refused to render a judgment because it kept them focused on the horse. If I gave it to one or the other, then they’d find something else to argue over, and at least the horse is harmless enough.”

“I took it away from the both of them,” she said. “She may be old but she deserves better than to be argued over by two daft old men.”

Ewan chuckled. “Aye, they told me you stole their horse and that you relieved Arthur of his duties.”

Mairin twisted in her seat and latched on to Ewan’s hand with her own. “How can that deplorable man be your stable master? Why, Ewan, he put his own horse into the cold without food or shelter. You would trust such a man with your own steed? A horse you would go into battle with?”

Ewan smiled at her vehemence. She was a fierce little thing. She’d already come to view his keep as her home and she was taking over with quite the militant attitude.

“I appreciate your determination to ensure we have the best possible care for my horses. But the truth is, Arthur is a magician with horses. Aye, he’s hostile and argumentative and he’s not very respectful, but he’s old and he’s been the stable master since my father was laird. He didn’t mistreat his mare, lass. I would have taken a whip to him myself if that was the case. ’Twas the story he told to save face after the horse took a bite out of his backside. He’s a complete lamb when it comes to the horses. They’re his babies, although he’d die before admitting so. He cares more for them than for any other living thing.”

Mairin’s shoulders slumped and she looked down at her feet. “I made a fool of myself, didn’t I?”

“Nay, lass.”

She twisted her fingers in her lap. “I just wanted to fit in here. Be a part of a clan. I wanted to have duties. I wanted my clan to respect me, come to me with their troubles. I used to dream of having a home and a family. Not a day went by at the abbey that I didn’t imagine what it would be like to live free of fear and to be able to go my own way.”

She chanced a look up at him, and he could see the vulnerability shining in her eyes. “That was all just a dream, wasn’t it, Ewan?”

His heart turned over in his chest. It was true he hadn’t given much thought to her circumstances and how they’d affected her. For all of her adult life, she’d been sequestered at an abbey with only nuns for company and guidance. She’d grown to expect that her life would be hard and uncertain when all she wanted was freedom and someone to cherish her.

So much of her actions and disregard for his authority made sense now. It wasn’t as though she set out to blatantly ignore his commands. She was merely feeling her way around and reveling in the first taste of home and family she’d ever experienced. She was spreading her wings and flexing her muscles for the first time ever.

He gathered her in his arms and squeezed affectionately. “Nay, lass, it wasn’t a dream. ’Tis no less than you should expect from your new home and clan. You’re still finding your way. You’ll make mistakes and so will I. This is new for both of us. I propose a bargain. You be patient with me and I promise to try not to yell so much.”

She went quiet for a moment and then she turned her chin up until she looked at him again. “That seems fair. I apologize for interfering in things that were not my concern. You were right. ’Tisn’t my place.”

The hurt and defeat in her voice stirred something deep within him. “Lass, look at me,” he said gently, as he tipped her chin upward with his fingers. “This is your home and your clan. You are mistress here and as such your authority is second only to mine. I plan for you to have many years to look forward to making this your home and a place you’re comfortable with. There’s no need to have everything done in a day.”

She nodded.

“You’re cold, lass. Come back inside the keep so I can warm you properly.”

As he’d hoped, his words made her stir restlessly against him. To give her added incentive, he fused his lips to hers, his heat melting her cold mouth. Ice against fire. In moments, she was returning his kiss with lusty, hot, open-mouthed kisses of her own. Lord, but the lass was a quick study in the art of kissing and using tongues.

He’d spend a lifetime of being indecent in her eyes if she’d only continue kissing him thusly.

“Come,” he said haggardly. “Before I take you right here and now.”

“You’re a lesson in sinning, Laird,” she said in her prim, disapproving voice.

He grinned and chucked her cheek in an affectionate manner. “Aye, that may be true, lass, but you’re no saint yourself.”

Mairin watched her husband as she ate the food that Maddie delivered after Mairin and Ewan retired to their chamber. He looked deceptively lazy, sprawled on the bed, hands behind his head and legs crossed at the ankle.

He’d stripped to just his trews, and she found it hard to concentrate on her food when he was lying there looking so blasted appealing.

As she downed the last of her food, her conversation with Maddie came to mind. She ducked her head, sure that Ewan would see the blush rising on her face, and she had no desire to tell him her thoughts. Not when they were so deliciously indecent.

But now that the thought had stuck in her mind, she studied him from the corner of her eye and wondered if she had the nerve to do as Maddie had described. It stood to reason that if he could make her so mindless with his mouth, the reverse would also be true.

“Are you finished yet, wife?” Ewan drawled.

She glanced down at the empty trencher and slowly set it aside. Aye, this was indeed the perfect time to try her wiles. She nearly giggled at the idea of her having wiles. Mother Serenity would be most stern over such a thought.

Not wanting to seem too obvious, she took her time preparing for bed. She undressed with a great deal more care than she usually exerted, her every movement slow and sensual. Twice she peeked to the side to see Ewan watche was lher, his eyes dark and hooded.

When she was completely nude, she sashayed to the basin of water and made a great production of washing. She turned to the side to give Ewan a good view of her profile, and she heard him suck in his breath when her nipples puckered in the wake of the damp cloth.

Having worked up the sufficient courage and having had enough time to formulate her plan, she tossed aside the cloth and moved toward the bed.

“You’re still clothed, husband,” she murmured as she stood over him.

Though he still wore his trews, they did nothing to disguise the bulge between his legs. He was hard and getting harder with every passing second.

“Aye, lass, but I can remedy that.”

He started to push upward, but she reached down and pressed a hand to his chest.

“ ’Tis my duty to undress you.”

He settled back onto the bed as her fingers went to the laces of his trews. As soon as she loosened them sufficiently, his erection jutted upward. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to his size. And she couldn’t even fathom how she’d get it in her mouth, but Maddie seemed sure that it was done by plenty of women.

When she had trouble tugging the material over his hips, he lifted them and his hands covered hers as he helped push it down his legs.

When he would have sat up, she once again pushed him down, only this time she followed him down, until her lips were a mere breath from his.

She kissed him, enjoying the feel of his mouth beneath hers. Her hands wandered over his chest, and she marveled at how hard and solid he was. The roughness of his scars contrasted with the bristle of the hair underneath her palms. His nipples puckered and hardened under her touch and she went back, rubbing over them again, fascinated by the reaction that was similar to her own.