“It matters not. My wife will not leave my sight. Are we understood?”
The soldier frowned. “The king will hear of this.”
“I expect he ll . You may also tell him that my lady wife is with child, and that she has journeyed a long way for this farce of a hearing. I am not pleased to have taken her from our home in a time she should be cared for.”
“I will of course bear your message to His Majesty,” the soldier returned stiffly.
He turned and motioned for several women who stood on the perimeter awaiting orders.
“See that Laird McCabe and his men are shown to their quarters and have refreshment after their travel.”
Ewan aided Mairin up the winding steps to the section that housed chambers reserved for guests. Alaric, Caelen, and Ewan’s commanders were directed to an open common room with an array of cots for sleeping. Ewan and Mairin were directed into a larger chamber at the corridor’s end.
Ewan pulled her into his arms and eased her down onto the bed. “Rest, sweeting. We must be at our best during our sojourn here.”
“What will we do, Ewan?” she asked against his neck. “I have no wish to mingle at court. I have no finery in which to attend the dinners. I cannot pretend indifference when the very idea of sharing a meal at the same table as Duncan Cameron makes me ill.”
“We must act as if we are in the right. If we hide, people will say we have something to hide. If we avoid Duncan Cameron, people will say I fear him.”
He stroked Mairin’s cheek and gazed down into her eyes. “We must be on our guard and allow no one to think even for a moment that the claims Cameron launched are anything but false. If I can gain an audience with the king soon, I have faith that this will all be cleared up and we can be on our way home.”
“I understand,” she said quietly. She snuggled tighter into his embrace and yawned broadly. He kissed her brow and urged her to sleep. The travel had taken its toll along with her stress and unease. She would need her strength for what was to come.
A knock sounded at the chamber door, rousing Ewan from sleep. Mairin was still soundly asleep, her face tucked into his neck. Gently he pried himself away from her and rose, pulling on his tunic.
When he opened the door, a servant bowed and extended a jeweled plate with a scroll on top. Ewan took the scroll and nodded at the servant.
He carried the missive inside the chamber and sat at the small desk where a half-gone candle flickered, casting shadows on the wall. He unrolled the scroll and read the summons. He was to attend the evening meal at the king’s table in the great hall.
He glanced over at Mairin, who had succumbed to her exhaustion. He didn’t want her to endure the strain of a meal where Cameron would likely be in attendance, but it was also important to maintain the public appearance of having done no wrong. Mairin was his wife. His beloved wife. She carried his child. The king and his advisors needed to see firsthand the absurdity of the charges against Ewan.
With a sigh he went to wake her. He had no jewels to adorn her with, but d sat eauty shone all the more brightly, undistracted by the glitter of riches. Her dress was a simple confection that the ladies had hastily sewn when they’d learned of the impending journey to court.
A castle maid fashioned Mairin’s hair, braiding and then coiling the heavy braid atop her head. The maid would have left off, but Mairin caught her hand. “ ’Tis unseemly for a married woman to show her hair at court, and I am married to Laird McCabe. Please fashion the wimple around my hair.”
Ewan felt a surge of pride at how steady and composed his wife sounded even though he knew how afraid she was. When the maid was finished, Mairin stood and turned to her husband.
“Are you ready to escort me to dinner, Laird?”
“Aye, wife.”
He took her hand, tucked it under his arm, and covered it with his other hand as he guided her from the chamber. His brothers waited just down the hall with Gannon, Cormac, and Diormid flanking them. They made an impressive sight, moving down the halls of the castle toward the great hall. Indeed, when they entered the hall, conversation quieted as everyone turned to see Ewan’s entrance.
As Ewan escorted his wife toward the high table on the dais, murmurs rose and raced from table to table. Mairin went rigid against him and her chin jutted upward. Her eyes narrowed and a deep calm worked over her features. As on her wedding day when she’d entered the hall with all the airs of a princess, she now walked beside Ewan as he guided her toward their seats.
Another buzz of murmurs rose, this time louder, and Ewan turned to see Duncan Cameron striding toward them, wild relief on his face. Ewan tucked Mairin behind him and Ewan’s brothers stepped forward, but Cameron stopped and dropped to his knees at Mairin’s feet.
“My lady wife, finally. After so many months, I despaired of ever seeing you again.”
Mairin stepped back, distancing herself from Cameron and clutching Ewan’s hand even tighter. Ewan saw the speculation—and the sympathy—that Mairin’s rejection inspired in the crowded hall. Cameron was playing the victim to the hilt, and he’d obviously gained the support of many by humbling himself at Mairin’s feet.
Cameron rose, grief engraved in the lines of his face. The man was a consummate actor; he even managed a gray pallor as he retreated, seemingly in defeat, to take his seat on the other side of the table.
Ewan had no sooner seated Mairin and himself when the trumpet sounded, signaling the king’s arrival. Everyone stood and turned their attention to the door, but it wasn’t King David who entered. It was a bevy of his closest advisors, including the king’s cousin, Archibald, who’d issued the summons for Ewan to appear.
Archibald nodded pompously and took the seat usually reserved for the king. He first eyed Duncan Cameron and then turned his gaze on Ewan before letting it slide to Mairin on Ewan’s right.
“I trust your journey was not too taxing, Lady Mairin. We have only just heard of your beig with child.”
She bowed demurely. “I thank you for your regard, my lord. My husband has taken great care with me.”
“Where is the king?” Ewan asked bluntly.
Archibald had no liking for the question. His eyes narrowed as he stared at Ewan. “The king has other matters to attend to this night.”
He turned to survey the many people seated at the tables in the hall. “Let us eat,” he announced.
The servants lining the wall burst into activity, filling goblets with wine and setting out the trenchers of food. The aroma was tantalizing and the tables overflowing with bounty.
“Eat,” Ewan whispered to Mairin. “You must keep your strength up.”
Ewan and Duncan’s presence at the same table made the tension so thick that the rest of the noblemen seated around them remained silent. Archibald suffered no ill effects and ate grandly, gesturing for seconds and then thirds of the roasted chicken.
Ewan was ready to be done with the meal so that he and Mairin could retire to their bedchamber, but Archibald kept up a steady stream of mundane and tiresome chatter that made Ewan’s head ache.
He had no patience for games played by courtiers. Everyone knew why he and his men were there, and the air was charged with anticipation over the potential confrontation. The people assembled were all but licking their chops over such an event.
“The king is considering the matter put before him,” Archibald finally said, as he leaned back in his chair. “He intends to summon the both of you to present your side on the morrow. He understands that this is a stressful time for Lady Mairin and it isn’t healthy for a woman in her delicate condition.”
“Her name is Lady McCabe,” Ewan bit out.
Archibald raised his eyebrow. “Aye, well that does seem to be the pressing question. His Majesty will decide the matter on the morrow.”
“In that case, if you would excuse me, my lord, I would take my lady wife back to our chamber so that she may rest.”
Archibald waved his hand. “By all means. I know this must be an ordeal for her.”
Ewan rose and then helped Mairin to her feet. Again she donned a cool, regal air that radiated from her in waves. She passed each table, head held high, until many of the people who stared at her averted their gaze in discomfort.
“You did well,” Ewan murmured. “This will be done with tomorrow and we can return home.”
“I hope you are right, Ewan,” she said anxiously, as he closed the door to their chamber. “Duncan Cameron makes me uneasy. It isn’t like him to adopt such a meek demeanor and play the snubbed. I do not like the king’s man,” she said bluntly. “I will be d to put the matter before my uncle, the king. I have heard he is a fair man and a religious man, as was my father. Surely he will render a just judgment in accordance with God’s will.”
Ewan had less faith in the piety of men and their willingness to act in accordance to God’s laws, but he didn’t say as much to Mairin. He wanted her to have faith that it would end quickly and in their favor. But already Ewan was silently preparing for the worst.
The next morning, Ewan was up before dawn. He paced the floor of the chamber, waiting and worrying. He’d spoken to his brothers after Mairin had fallen asleep the night before and they had planned for every contingency.
A knock sounded at the door and Ewan went quickly to answer so Mairin wouldn’t be awakened.
One of the king’s guards stood outside the door. “His Majesty requests the presence of the Lady Mairin in his quarters. He will send a guard for her in an hour’s time. You are to await his command to appear in the great hall.”
Ewan frowned.
“She will be well cared for, Laird.”
“I will hold you personally accountable for her safety,” Ewan said menacingly.
The guard nodded and then departed down the hall. “Ewan?”
Ewan turned to see Mairin up on her elbow, her hair streaming over the shoulders.
“What is happening?”
Ewan crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed. Unable to resist, he ran his hand along her side and then to the tiny swell of her belly.
“Have you been able to tell if our child moves yet?”
She smiled and cupped her hand over his. “ ’Tis just a flutter, almost like a tiny brush over my skin. But aye, I can feel him.”
Ewan pushed up her nightdress until the smooth expanse of skin was bared to his sight. He leaned down and pressed his mouth to the curve of her belly. The swell was firm, the evidence of the child she sheltered within her body. Ewan was sure he’d never seen a more beautiful sight. He was captivated and wholly entranced. He could spend hours enjoying the silky smooth pale skin and the beauty of the woman who carried his child.
Mairin’s fingers tangled in Ewan’s long hair as he kissed the shallow indention of her navel.
“What did the messenger say?” she asked quietly.
Ewan raised his head and stared into her eyes. “He summoned you to the king’s chamber in an hour’s time. He’s sending a guard to escort you and then he will summon me to the great hall.”
Nervousness fluttered in her eyes and her lips tightened into a thin line. She tensed beneath the hand he held cupped over her belly and he began stroking her to alleviate some ble to e tension.
“I do not feel he will allow any harm to come to you, sweeting. You are his niece, his blood. For him not to ensure your safety reflects badly on him. His rule is too tenuous with the threat of Malcolm and Malcolm’s followers for him to do anything to lose support.”
She leaned forward and cupped his face, her thumbs running over his cheekbones. “You always know just what to say. I love you for that, my mighty warrior.”
He turned until his mouth slid over her palm and he pressed a kiss to the tender skin. “And I love you. Remember that.”
“Summon the maid. I will need help if I am to be ready to see the king in an hour’s time,” she said with a grimace.
He rose and helped her from the bed. “I’ll summon her at once.”
She stood at his side and turned her face up so that she looked deep into his eyes. “Promise me that we will leave the moment this matter is settled. I’ve a need to be home with my clan.”
“You have my word.”
CHAPTER 34
Mairin walked down the hall, surrounded by four guards. She was more nervous by the minute at the idea of coming face-to-face with her uncle. She was prepared to plead Ewan’s case and tell him all that Duncan had done. After hearing all she had to say, the king couldn’t possibly rule in Duncan’s favor.
The guard knocked and the door was opened by Archibald, who motioned them inward. He smiled and took Mairin’s hand and guided her to a comfortable chair in the lavishly decorated sitting room.
“I’m afraid the king is not himself today,” he said smoothly. “He’s been forced to retire and conveys his deepest regrets that he is unable to speak with you privately as he’d hoped. I will act on his behalf and render judgment on the matter before the crown.”