He gave orders to his men to increase the watch. There was much to be done in light of his marriage to Mairin. The keep’s defenses would have to be strengthened, and new alliances, such as one with the McDonalds, were more important than ever.

Even with all of that weighing down on him, his primary thought lay with Mairin. He regretted the haste in which he’d bedded her. He didn’t like guilt. Guilt was for men who made mistakes. Ewan didn’t like the idea of making mistakes or admitting his failures. Aye, but he’d failed the lass and he was at a loss as to how to make it to her.

He took the time to bathe in the loch with the other men. If it weren’t for the fact that a sweet lass lay in his bed, he’d have crawled beneath the covers in his boots and not worried over the mess until morning.

After washing the dirt and blood from his body, he quickly dried and mounted the steps to his chamber. Eagerness drove him. Not only did he want to show the lass a little tenderness, but he burned for her. Before, he’d only tasted of her sweetness. Now he wanted to feast on it.

He quietly opened his chamber door and stepped inside. The room was cloaked in darkness. Only the coals from the fire gave light as he crossed to the bed. She was nestled in the middle of the bed, her hair spread out like a veil of silk. He slid one knee onto the bed and leaned over her, prepared to wake her, when he saw the lump on the other side of her.

Frowning, he peeled back the cover to see Crispen nestled in her arms, his head laying on her bosom. A smile eased his frown when he saw how she had both arms wrapped protectively around him. The lass had taken her role as Crispen’s new mother very seriously. They were tucked in as tight as two kittens on a cold night.

With a sigh, he eased down beside her, resigning himself to the fact that he wouldn’t awaken his wife with kisses or touches this night.

He moved in close until her back was cradled against his chest. Then he curled one arm around both her and Crispen, as he buried his face in Mairin’s sweet-smelling hair.

It was the fastest he’d ever fallen asleep in his life.

He was careful not to wake Mairin or Crispen when he rose just a few hours later. He dressed in the darkness and got his boot caught on something as he tried to walk toward the door. He reached down and picked up the offending material and realized it was Mairin’s dress that she’d worn when she wed him.

Remembering that he’d torn it in his haste to bed her, he stared down at it for a long moment. The image of Mairin’s wide, shocked eyes and the hurt reflected in them made him frown.

It was just a dress.

Curling it in his hand, he took it with him as he made his way below stairs. Even at the early hour, the keep was already stirring with activity. Caelen and Alaric were just finishing eating and looked up when Ewan entered the hall.

“Marriage has turned you into a slugabed,” Caelen drawled. “We’ve both been up for an hour.”

Ignoring his brother’s jibe, Ewan took his seat at the head of the table. One of the serving women hurried out with a trencher of food and set it in front of Ewan.

“What the hell are you holding, Ewan?” Alaric asked.

Ewan glanced down to see he was still carrying Mairin’s dress tightly clenched in his hand. Instead of answering Alaric, he called the serving girl back.

“Is Maddie about yet?”>

“Aye, Laird. Would you like me to fetch her?”

“At once.”

She dipped a curtsy and hurried out to do his bidding. Mere moments later, Maddie hurried in.

“You called for me, Laird?”

Ewan nodded. “Aye.” He thrust the dress toward the woman, and with a surprised look, she took it. “Can you repair it?”

Maddie turned the material over in her hands, examining the place where the material had rent.

“Aye, Laird. ’Twill only take a needle and thread. I could have it done in no time.”

“See that you do. I’d like for your mistress to have it whole again.”

Maddie smiled, and her eyes sparkled with a knowing look that annoyed him. He scowled at her and motioned her away. Still grinning, she tucked the dress under her arm and left the hall.

“You tore her wedding dress?” Caelen smirked.

“You certainly have a way with the wenches,” Alaric said, shaking his head. “You haul her up the stairs for perhaps what was the fastest consummation on record, and you tear her wedding dress in the process.”

Ewan’s nostrils flared. “She’s not a wench. She’s your sister now and you should speak of her with respect as your mistress and wife to your laird.”

Alaric held up his hands in surrender and leaned back in his chair. “No offense was intended.”

“Touchy, isn’t he?” Caelen said.

Ewan’s glare silenced his youngest brother. “We have much to do today. Alaric, I need you to be my emissary to McDonald.”

Both Alaric and Caelen shot forward in their seats, incredulity etched on their faces.

“What? Ewan, the bastard tried to abduct your son,” Alaric growled.

“He denies knowledge of his soldier’s actions and vows that his soldier acted on his own accord. The soldier is dead now,” Ewan said flatly. “He won’t be a threat to my son ever again. McDonald wants an alliance. ’Tis to his advantage to call us friend. I’ve denied him until now. But his lands would join ours to Neamh Álainn. I want you to make it happen, Alaric.”

“So be it,” Alaric said. “I’ll leave within the hour.”

Alaric strode from the hall to prepare for his journey. Ewan quickly finished his meal and then he and Caelen quit the hall and went to where his men were training.

They stood in the courtyard, watching as the other soldiers sparred and went through ttraining exercises.

“ ’Tis imperative that Mairin be under constant guard,” Ewan said in a low voice to Caelen. “Duncan Cameron won’t give up just because I’ve wed her. There is much to be done, and Mairin must remain inside the keep under careful watch.”

Caelen shot Ewan a wary glance. “Don’t think to saddle me with such a chore. She’s your wife.”

“She’s the future of our clan,” Ewan said in a dangerously soft voice. “You would do well to bear that in mind when you tell me what you will and won’t do. I expect your loyalty to me to extend to her.”

“But a nursemaid, Ewan?” Caelen asked in a pained voice.

“All you have to do is keep her safe. How hard can that be?” Ewan asked. He motioned to his senior commanders when they finished the current round of sparring.

He instructed Gannon, Cormac, and Diormid on his expectations that Mairin be watched over at all times.

“As you wish, Laird. She won’t like it much,” Gannon said.

“I’m not concerned with what she won’t like,” Ewan countered. “My concern is keeping her safe and with me.”

The men nodded their agreement.

“There’s no need to alarm her. I don’t want her to feel unsafe on my land. I want her guarded well but I want it to appear that ’tis just the way of things.”

“You can count on us to keep Lady McCabe safe, Laird,” Cormac vowed.

Satisfied that his men understood the importance of keeping close watch on Mairin, Ewan summoned his messenger and penned a missive to the king informing him of his marriage to Mairin and requesting the release of her dowry.

For the first time in many years, hope beat a steady rhythm in his chest. Not for vengeance. Nay, he’d always known that the day would come when he would repay the wrongs done to his clan. With Mairin’s dowry his clan would prosper once again. Food would be plentiful. Supplies would be on hand. They would cease eking out their existence under spartan conditions.

Despite Ewan’s intention to spare a moment to speak with Mairin—he wasn’t entirely sure about what—the day passed in a blur of activity. He’d thought to gauge her mood and offer reassurance that Duncan Cameron’s men had been dispatched. Aye, she’d feel better and more secure, and she damn sure wouldn’t doubt his ability to protect her or his keep any longer.

An incident with his men prevented Ewan from dining with Mairin, and by the time he trudged up the stairs to his chamber, he was tired, but at least he was clean after a dip in the loch.

He nudged the door open to see that she was already abed, her soft, even breathing signaling her slumber. He started forward, intent on waking her, when h saw that once again, Crispen was snuggled against her. He sighed. Tomorrow he would make it a point to tell her that Crispen was to sleep in his own chambers across the hall.

He never got the chance to make his point. From the moment Mairin awoke, he never seemed to gain the opportunity to speak with her. Toward afternoon, he grew impatient and issued a direct summons for her to appear before him.

When it went unanswered, he sent Cormac to fetch her, since Diormid was guarding her. Cormac returned with the news that Mairin was visiting the cottages of the other women and would speak to her laird later.

Ewan scowled, and Cormac seemed uncomfortable telling his laird that his bride had refused him.

Clearly they were going to have to discuss matters far more important than where his son slept. Namely, the idea that she had the right to refuse a direct order from Ewan.

He made it a point to eat dinner with Mairin that evening. She looked tired and nervous. Her gaze kept darting toward him when she thought he wasn’t looking, as though she feared him lunging across the table and hauling her to his chamber.

He sighed. He supposed it wasn’t an unreasonable fear given what had occurred on their wedding day. Some of his irritation fell away. The lass was skittish. It was up to him to allay her fears and soothe her worries.

Protection was something he could readily offer. His loyalty to the woman he called wife would be unwavering. She’d never want for anything he could provide as long as he lived. Those were things that the warrior in him readily embraced. But things like tenderness and understanding? Sweet words meant to soothe away worries? The mere idea appalled him beyond measure.