Alaric reached out to touch her cheek. “I would see you well cared for. You have to know that. I would do nothing to cause you shame or disgrace.”

She smiled faintly. Shame and disgrace were things she was well accustomed to. “If you care for me at all, you’ll not pursue whatever is between us.”

He looked as if he would argue, but she pressed her finger over his lips in gentle reproach.

“ ’Tis dawn now. We’ve slept the night away. I must see to your wound and call for a meal to break your fast. Then I must see your laird to determine my place in this keep.”

“He’ll see to your care,” Alaric said tightly. “If he doesn’t, he’ll answer to me.”

She let her hand fall away and then she busied herself inspecting the stitches on his side.

“The redness is almost gone,” she said. “A few more days’ rest and I’ll allow you out of bed as long as you don’t go back to fighting the moment your feet hit the floor.”

Her attempt at levity was wasted. Alaric still stared at her, his eyes bleak and full of regret. She looked away and then pushed herself from the bed.

She went to the window, and pushed aside the furs to allow fresh air and the morning sun in. For a moment she stood there, cursing fate and its inevitable grasp. She gripped the sill until her knuckles were white and faced sunrise with all the sadness and regret in her heart.

Her life—her future—had been determined by the actions of others. She’d sworn that never again would her fate be left up to others. But now, deciding her own had a decidedly unsatisfactory feeling.

She’d done what was right. She’d taken a stand to protect herself … from what? Unhappiness? Disgrace?

It should feel better. She alone decided the course of her fate. Instead, she was left with a hollow ache in her chest and a fleeting sense of unfulfilled desires.

She chanced another glance at Alaric to see his eyes closed, his head unmoved from his pillow. Aye, ’twas for the best. He could never be hers. If she agreed to an affair, it would only hurt her more to let him go. Better she never know the joys of his loving.

Taking a deep breath, she squared her shoulders and crossed the chamber to the door. It was time to determine the rest of her destiny. Ewan McCabe had abducted the wrong person. He was going to tell her of his plans and offer some guarantees if she was going to remain for Lady McCabe’s birthing.

She left the room and nearly stumbled over Gannon who sat in the hallway, his head resting against the wall. He came to attention immediately and scrambled to his feet. Alaric hadn’t exaggerated when he’d said that his man would remain outside in case he was needed.

“Is there something I can do for you?” Gannon inquired politely.

She shook her head. “Nay. Alaric is doing well. I’m going belowstairs to speak to the laird and to ask for a meal so that Alaric may break his fast.”

An uneasy expression flashed on Gannon’s face. “Perhaps it would be best if I went to the laird with any requests you have.”

She narrowed her gaze at the much bigger warrior. “I don’t think it’s best. If you want to help, you can go down to the kitchens and have a meal brought up to Alaric’s chamber. I’ll be with the laird if you need me.”

Not giving the warrior a chance to argue his point, she strode past him to the stairs and hurried down. Once in the great hall, she surveyed the interior curiously. There was a flurry of activity as women passed back and forth doing their duties.

Though she’d spoken bravely to Gannon, she had no idea where to seek out the laird. And she was nervous, despite her earlier bravado.

“Keeley! Is there something I can help you with?”

Keeley turned to see Maddie approaching from the kitchens.

“Where might I find the laird?”

Maddie frowned. “He’s out training with his men in the courtyard.”

Keeley smiled. “My thanks.”

As she turned to go, Maddie called after her, “The laird doesn’t like to be disturbed when he’s training!”

“Aye, well I don’t like to be disturbed when I’m in my cottage asleep in my bed,” Keeley grumbled under her breath. That didn’t stop the laird from bursting in and spiriting her away.

She paused in the doorway leading to the courtyard and sucked in her breath at the sight of so many warriors, all engaged in sparring, swordplay, and archery. There were hundreds, and the sounds of their fighting nearly deafened her.

Holding her hands to her ears, she descended into the courtyard and warily skirted the perimeter looking for the laird. She stopped when a snowflake drifted by her nose and she looked up to see that it was indeed snowing. She hadn’t even noticed, so intent was she on finding the laird.

Shivering, she hunched her shoulders forward and resumed her search.

When she rounded the side of the wall of men, she came face-to-face with the laird and his brother, both of whom stood surveying their men’s progress.

Caelen’s scowl was instantaneous, but the laird wasn’t far behind once he caught sight of her.

“Is something amiss?” the laird demanded. “How does Alaric fare?”

“Alaric is well. His wound is healing and his fever has abated. I didn’t come to speak to you of Alaric.”

“I’m busy,” the laird said shortly. “Whatever it is can wait.”

He turned his back on her dismissively and Keeley’s blood boiled.

“Nay, Laird. It will not wait.” She stamped her foot for emphasis and made sure her voice could be heard above the din.

The laird stiffened and then turned slowly back to stare at her. Around them, activity ceased. Swords were lowered as the men stopped to look at Keeley.

“What did you say?” he asked in a dangerously low voice.

Caelen stared at her in disbelief and then looked to his brother as if confirming that she’d dared argue with the laird.

She raised her chin, refusing to back down. Even if her knees were quaking abysmally. “I said it won’t wait.”

“Is that so? Tell me then. What’s so important that you would interrupt my men in training? You have all our attention now. Don’t be timid.”

“I’ve never been accused of being timid,” she said dryly. “And what is important is that I know of your plans for me. You’ve taken me from my home to care for your brother and you expect that I attend Lady McCabe at her time. I refuse to be treated as a prisoner. I would know my place in your clan.”

Ewan McCabe arched one eyebrow as he continued to stare at her. “Have you been treated with anything but respect thus far? I assure you, I don’t give my prisoners their own chamber nor do I give them leave to make requests of my serving staff. I have a dungeon where my prisoners are made welcome.”

She refused to be cowed by the sternness in his voice. She met his gaze and stiffened her spine. “I would know exactly my position here, Laird. So there is no misunderstanding at a later date. I’ve had to give up the only home and security I know. I’m used to living on my own and abiding by only my rules. I find I don’t obey the dictates of others so easily.”

Ewan’s expression darkened until she was sure he might explode. Then to her utter amazement he threw back his head and laughed. “Tell me, Keeley, have you been speaking to my wife? Did she put you up to this?”

Around him, his men began laughing. Even Caelen lost his scowl for the barest of moments.

She looked at them all in bewilderment. “Why would Lady McCabe have me talk to you? I haven’t seen her this morn.”

Ewan’s shoulders heaved in an exaggerated sigh. “Jesu, I’m cursed to have two women who insist on defying me at every turn.”

“Just remember it was your idea,” Caelen muttered.

Ewan raised his hand as laughter rose again from his ranks. Keeley viewed him anxiously. They seem to think it was all a jest. She was entirely serious, and it infuriated her that they could laugh when she’d been abducted and forced from her home—and worse, her independence.

Her face tight and teeth clenched, she whirled around and stalked back toward the keep. It crossed her mind that she wanted to go up to Alaric and unload her frustration and anger, but it would only cause dissention between him and his brothers. The last thing he needed right now was that.

She was almost to the keep when a strong hand clamped down on her shoulder and turned her around. She balled her fist and swung. Caelen’s eyes widened in shock just before he dodged his head to the side and popped up his hand to block her blow.

“God’s teeth, woman. Stand down.”

“Remove your hand from my person,” she snapped.

“Keeley, I would speak to you,” Ewan said in a grim voice.

She looked beyond Caelen to see Ewan standing a foot behind his brother. She wrenched her hand from Caelen’s grasp and took a step backward.

“I think you’ve said enough, Laird.”

“Nay, I don’t think so. Come inside. We’ll speak in the hall while I break my fast. Have you eaten yet? It’s my practice to eat with my wife. She sleeps longer now that she’s heavy with child.”

Keeley issued a short nod and waited for the laird to precede her into the keep. Caelen backed away and with a last glance in Keeley’s direction returned to where the men were training.

When they entered the hall, the places were being set and Mairin was already at the table. Her face lit up when she set eyes on Ewan and she started to rise.

“Nay, sweeting, don’t get up,” he said, placing a hand on her shoulder as he walked past her. He paused and dropped a kiss on her temple and gifted her with a smile that made Keeley wistful to her toes.

As he sat, he motioned for Keeley to sit on his other side across from Mairin.