intended victim. There were many reasons for Ewan to keep the information to himself.
One, his clan had become fiercely protective of Mairin since the incident. They all looked after her with a keen eye, and she was never alone. That suited Ewan’s purposes perfectly, because whether someone was trying to kill Mairin or not, she still faced the threat that was Duncan Cameron.
Two, he had no desire for Mairin to worry, and if she found out that Ewan was the intended victim, not once but twice, there was no telling what the lass might do. Ewan had discovered in a short time that she was fierce in her protection of those she considered hers.
And the lass did consider Ewan hers, much to Ewan’s smug satisfaction. She may not have given him the words he wanted to hear, but there was no denying her possessiveness when it came to him. He remembered well the look she’d given him when Rionna McDonald had been introduced.
He looked forward to the day when they would be free of threats. The shadow hanging over the keep had affected not just Mairin, but everyone. Mairin … well, Ewan hadn’t had a single report of her causing a ruckus since she’d gotten up from her sickbed.
He should have known that wouldn’t last …
“Laird, you must come quickly!” Owain said as he ran up to Ewan.
The younger man panted as he came to a stop. It looked as if he’d run the entire way from where he came.
Ewan turned from the sheepherder, who was giving him a detailed accounting of McCabe stocks, and frowned.
“What is amiss, Owain?”
“ ’Tis Lady McCabe. The entire hall is in an uproar. She’s ordered a group of your men to take over the women’s duties!”
“What?” Ewan demanded. Then he put his fingers to the bridge of his nose and took in a deep breath. “Tell me exactly what goes on, Owain.”
“Heath angered her but I don’t know what transpired, Laird. She’s ordered him and the group of men with him to do the washing! And the cooking! God help us all. And cleaning the kitchens and the floors …”
Owain broke off, winded, and then plowed forward again. “They’re all ready to revolt because your brothers can’t control the lass.”
Ewan frowned and swore under his breath. Heath was a hotheaded young soldier who’d only recently come to the McCabes. He was a bastard son of Laird McKinley—one of many—who’d been unacknowledged by his father before the laird’s death. The result was that he had no home. Ewan had gathered such men over the years, adding to his numbers when so many of his own clan had been eliminated by Duncan Cameron’s attack.
Ewan had already had problems with Heath and a group of younger, cocky, arrogant soldiers who had allied themselves with Heath shortly after his arrival.
They’d been disciplined before, and Ewan had already decided that it would be his last effort to turn them into McCabe warriors.
If Heath was involved, it couldn’t be good. Match him to Ewan’s equally hotheaded wife and an explosion was sure to follow.
“Where are my brothers?” Ewan demanded.
“They’re with Lady McCabe in the hall. ’Tis a very tense situation, Laird. There was a moment that I feared for the safety of Lady McCabe.”
That was all Ewan needed to hear. He ran for the hall, and as he rounded the corner into the courtyard, he saw all of his men, who had been out training, standing still, their heads cocked as they listened to the din coming from inside the keep.
Ewan shoved past them, vaulted up the steps, and barged into the hall.
The scene before him was chaos. A group of younger soldiers was across the room, surrounded by Ewan’s brothers and Mairin and Gertie.
Cormac and Diormid were being roundly scolded by Gertie. Gertie was so riled that she shook a spoon at the two men and managed to hit them with it about every third stroke. Alaric and Caelen both wore expressions of fury as they sought to place Mairin behind them. But she was having none of it.
What caught Ewan’s attention, however, was Mairin, who stood in the middle of the fray, her face so red from anger that she looked fair to exploding. She was on tiptoe, shouting insults at Heath from around Gannon, who was also valiantly trying to keep her at a distance.
Heath’s face was purple with rage. The lass had no idea the danger she’d put herself in. But Ewan knew. He’d witnessed the younger man’s brash temper more than once. Ewan had already started across the room when he saw Heath raise his hand.
Ewan let out a roar, drew his sword, and launched himself over the remaining space. Mairin ducked, but Heath’s fist still grazed her jaw as she turned away. She went flying back just as Ewan slammed into Heath.
If Caelen and Alaric hadn’t pinned both Ewan’s arms back, he would have killed the younger man on the spot. As it was, Heath lay sprawled on the floor, blood dripping from his mouth.
Ewan twisted in their grip but they wouldn’t let him go. “Leave off!” he roared.
They wrestled him back several paces before he finally managed to break their hold. He yanked his arm away and went to where Mairin was picking herself up off the floor.
He caught her elbow and helped her to her feet. Then he cupped her chin and turned it up so he could see her jaw.
“He barely touched me,” Mairin whispered. “Truly, Ewan, it doesn’t pain me at all.”
Fury sizzled over his skin. “He had no right to touch you at all! He’ll die for this offense.”
