laric appeared stunned. He looked between his brothers and shook his head. “I don’t understand.”

“I cannot be laird any longer,” Ewan murmured. He turned to Mairin, his eyes full of love. “Surely you see that. Upon the birth of Isabel, my destiny—all our destinies—changed as soon as she took her first breath. ’Tis my duty to protect my daughter’s legacy. I cannot split my duties between my clan and my wife and daughter and be fair to either. Which is why you’ll become laird. I cannot think of a better man for the duty.”

Alaric dragged a hand through his hair and stared at Ewan in disbelief. “I don’t even know what to say, Ewan. You’re the laird. Since our father died. It’s the way of things. I never considered that I would take over.”

The king arched an eyebrow. “Are you saying you have to think on it?”

“Of course not. I’ll do whatever is necessary to ensure the safety and future of my clan.”

“Except marry me, apparently,” Rionna muttered under her breath.

But Caelen heard and he glanced sharply at his wife. He hadn’t considered that perchance she harbored tender feelings for Alaric. Surely they hadn’t been together for long enough. But then how did anyone explain the workings of a woman’s mind?

Alaric wasn’t as cold as Caelen, and Caelen knew he could be unforgiving. Harsh even. Alaric seemed more in tune with the lasses. They adored him. Found him bonny.

Was she upset over the fact that she found herself married to the wrong McCabe? ’Twas something Caelen hadn’t considered, and now that he was he didn’t like the thought at all.

“ ’Tis settled then,” the king announced as he put down his goblet. “We’ll gather the lairds and Ewan can name his brother the new laird of the McCabe clan.”

“What of our men?” Alaric asked Ewan.

Caelen leaned forward, for he had need to hear this as well. The McCabes had an awesome fighting force, but it would have to be split, which benefitted no one.

Ewan grimaced. “I’ll take a large enough contingent with me to see to the protection of Mairin and Isabel. Once we’ve arrived at Neamh Álainn, I can afford to send some back provided I am well satisfied with the king’s guard there.”

He looked to Caelen. “I thought to leave Cormac here since he is newly married and ’twould be more difficult for him to relocate to the McDonald holding with a new wife. I can’t spare men to give to you but I can send Gannon with you to aid in the training of the McDonald soldiers.”

Caelen viewed his brother with surprise. “But Gannon is your most senior man, your most trusted. He has protected you and your wife and child faithfully.”

“It is why I would send him with you,” Ewan said quietly. “You’ll need an ally, someone you can trust without question.” He glanced apologetically at Rionna as he spoke.

Rionna stared stoically past the men to the tapestries hanging over the fireplace. You could have broken stone on her face. No hint of emotion. Her eyes were guarded, no betrayal of her thoughts.

Then she turned as if deigning to acknowledge the men sitting around her. She gave a delicate, feminine sniff, but somehow Caelen knew it had cost her not to let out a decidedly male snort.

“It’s a wonder you allowed yourself to consort with people such as the McDonalds. Why bother with an alliance when we’re so clearly inferior and untrustworthy?” Rionna said.

Caelen nearly crushed her hand in his. His nostrils flared and he would have chastised her for speaking to the king and his brother thusly, but something in her gaze held him back. It wasn’t so much the anger, but hurt lurked where before she’d allowed no hint of what she was feeling to show.

It was gone so quickly he wondered if he’d imagined it.

The king chuckled while Ewan grimaced.

“I realize this isn’t easy for you to hear, Rionna. You have my apologies. I would not send my brother into a hostile environment without support.”

“He is more protected by being my husband than he is by your man,” she pointed out. “Perhaps you should concern yourself more with not insulting me.”

At that Ewan’s eyes narrowed. He was angry at the implied threat. Caelen was merely amused.

“Now, Rionna. You’ll have him worried you’re going to split my gullet while I sleep,” Caelen drawled.

He leaned over, wrapped his hand around her nape, and did what he’d been dying to do ever since she floated into the room. His lips mashed against hers. It was no kiss of seduction, accompanied by sweet gestures and honeyed words.

It was a command to be silent. To cede to his authority. It was a reminder of whom she belonged to.

The feisty little wench nipped at his lip. He tasted blood but he also tasted her sweetness. He didn’t rear back as she likely expected. He deepened the kiss until his blood was forced onto her tongue. When she tried to pull away, he hauled her against him until she was flat against his chest, her ample br**sts straining at her bodice.

Only when she went slack against him and the fight leeched from her body did he pull slowly away. He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, all the while staring into her eyes.

“See, Ewan, she’s perfectly harmless. You just have to know how to handle her.”

She sprang to her feet, her eyes flashing furiously. “You are the worst sort of braying ass!”

He battled a grin as she turned and flounced dramatically from the room. She’d be insulted to know that her usual long, mannish stride was completely ruined by the yards of material flowing at her feet. She looked like a woman in a pique.

And wouldn’t that infuriate her.

CHAPTER 4

“Jesu, Rionna, where did those come from?” Keeley exclaimed.

Rionna shut the chamber door with a scowl and then looked down as she realized what Keeley referred to.

“They’re breasts!”

“Well, I can see that. The question is how you grew them overnight.”

Rionna stared at Keeley for a moment and then burst into laughter. It was either that or cry, and she’d poke her own eye out before she let that happen.

Keeley’s eyes were full of mirth as Rionna walked over to collapse on the bed next to her.

“He’s a … He’s a …”

“Yes, Rionna? He’s a what?”

“He’s a dolt! A pompous, overstuffed … windbag!”

“I can see your education is sorely lacking in the area of insults,” Keeley said dryly.

“I was trying to be circumspect,” Rionna muttered.

“I assume you were referring to your new husband?”

Rionna sighed. “It’s never going to work, Keeley. I look at you and Alaric. I see how Ewan is with Mairin. And then I look at Caelen.”

Keeley’s face filled with sadness and worry. “Do you think you’ll be so very unhappy?”

Rionna felt immediate guilt. Here Keeley lay recovering from a terrible injury. She’d married the man Rionna was supposed to marry and she likely felt horrible that Rionna was unhappy.

“ ’Tis the truth I’d be miserable with either McCabe, so you needn’t feel guilty for marrying Alaric. At least one of us is happy and I’m delirious with joy that you have someone who loves you so very dearly.”

“How was last night?” Keeley asked carefully.

Rionna’s eyes narrowed. “I wouldn’t know. The last thing I remember is standing by your window. I woke up next to Caelen in naught but my underdress. Surely it couldn’t be so bad if I don’t even remember it?”

“You say you were still dressed?”

“Aye, well, I wasn’t completely na**d if that’s what you’re asking.”

Keeley giggled. “Nothing happened, Rionna. He didn’t bed you. You were passed out in the chair over there. He came in, picked you up, and carried you out. He must have undressed you and put you to bed.”

Rionna gave a mournful sigh and her shoulders slumped. “ ’Tis the truth I’d hoped it was over and done with. Now I have to dread the deed all over again.”

Keeley patted Rionna on the hand. “You worry over much. ’Tis naught but a pinch and then it feels very nice.”

Rionna wasn’t convinced but she wasn’t going to argue.

“Now tell me why you suddenly have such a generous … bosom.”

Rionna rolled her eyes. “I’ve always bound them. ’Tis the truth that when I began to grow more womanly, my br**sts got way ahead of the rest of me. I can’t wield a sword and dodge and be quick when I have these things bouncing at my chest. ’Tis obscene, to borrow Caelen’s word.”

Keeley gasped. “He said that?”

“He muttered something about covering myself and mentioned the word obscene. I’m inclined to agree with him.”

“You’re right. He’s a dolt.”

Rionna grinned and then sighed. “ ’Tis the truth this dress is driving me daft. I’m going to go change and maybe take in some fresh air. The walls of the keep are closing in on me.”

“You always were more comfortable outside,” Keeley said with a smile. “Go then. I’ll not tell Caelen I’ve seen you if he asks.”

Rionna leaned forward to kiss Keeley’s cheek. It was on the tip of her tongue to relate all that had been said below about Alaric being the new laird, but she wouldn’t ruin the news for Alaric. ’Twas the truth the new couple needed all the good moments they could manage. They’d been through hell already.

“I’ll come to see you later. Rest now, sister of my heart.”

Keeley shot her a mischievous grin. “When you return, I’ll tell you all I’ve learned about matters of the flesh. ’Tis the truth you can tame the gruffest of men with a few touches and a most inventive use of your mouth.”

Rionna’s face burst into flames. She clapped her hands over her ears with a groan.

Keeley leaned back into the pillows and smiled. “I’m so glad you’re here, Rionna. I missed you so.”

“I missed you, too.”

Rionna hurried down the hall to her chamber where she all but tore the frothy confection of a gown from her body. She embraced her anger because the alternative wasn’t bearable. What she really wanted was to curl into a ball on the bed and shut out her humiliation.

It was stupid of her to allow Maddie to interfere. Playing dress up was for beautiful women who knew all the social niceties. How to talk. How to walk. How to be quiet and deferential. All the things Rionna wasn’t.

All Rionna had accomplished was making an even bigger fool of herself. And she’d given Caelen yet another opportunity to humiliate her.

She hated him.

It was bad enough he thought himself some noble self-sacrificer for taking on his brother’s discarded bride, but he had to be a smug, overbearing jackass to boot.

If only she’d had a sister to marry off. Then Rionna could have dressed the way she wanted, acted as she wanted, and she could damn well pick up a sword when she wanted.

Realizing she was standing in the nude and it was quite cold, she pulled on the scruffy trews and then pulled her favorite tunic over her head. Her boots were old. There was a hole in the heel, but they fit her like a glove and they’d never let her down.

Taking only a few extra moments to plait and secure her hair, she slid her sword into the scabbard and enjoyed the comfort of being herself once more.

Then she turned and strode from her chamber.

To hell with Caelen McCabe. To hell with the lot of them. Her clan might not be the mightiest or the cleverest. They might not have the fighting skills of another clan. But they were hers and she wouldn’t allow them to be spoken poorly of. Her father had done enough of that. Self-righteous bastard.

She slipped silently down the stairs, hoping the men would still be involved in talks. She cocked her head when she reached the base of the stairs and heard the sound of voices echoing through the great hall.

She hurried the opposite way and out one of the side exits into the courtyard.

Soldiers from the various neighboring clans sparred. They jested and laughed. The smell of sweat filtered through her nose, and the sounds of metal banged in her ears, welcome and familiar.

Still, she moved away from the assembled soldiers and made her way through the trees toward the loch.

“Rionna!”

She turned hastily, seeing her father standing in the direction she’d just come from. He was frowning, his arms crossed over his chest. Then he loosened one hand and motioned her to come.

She contemplated ignoring his summons, but ’twas not the time. He was still her laird, albeit for not many days longer. Her new husband would take over the mantle of leadership and, God help her, she didn’t know who she dreaded in the position more.

Her jaw tight, she walked back to her father and stopped a short distance away. “Yes, father?”

“I want to have a word with you. We cannot allow Caelen McCabe to take over the McDonald clan.”

“We have little choice in the matter,” she said carefully. “ ’Tis either ally ourselves with the McCabes or face Duncan Cameron on our own.”

“Nay, ’tis not our only choice.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Think you that you’re a little late to be saying such? You couldn’t have come to me with this solution before I married Caelen McCabe?”

“Silence that mouth of yours before I do,” her father roared. “I am still your laird and, by God, I’ll not tolerate your insolence.”

Rionna stared defiantly at the man she’d lost all respect for over the years. He was a pathetic excuse for a man, even if he was her laird—and her father. She couldn’t help the circumstances of her birth. Would that she could.