23 - Never Love a Highlander (McCabe Trilogy #3) Page 23

“Such displays are never appropriate in front of my men,” Caelen continued in a strangled voice.

Rionna turned once more and stepped forward to loosen the ties of his trews. “Aye, husband, I’m sure you’re right. No show of affection in front of others. ’Tis unseemly.”

She reached inside and cupped his heavy sac, squeezing gently.

“ ’Tis not just … What on earth are you about, wife?”

She stroked up and down and then withdrew her hand. “I’m undressing you. ’Tis my duty, is it not?”

“Well, aye, ’tis sometimes. But right now ’tis important we have this discussion.”

“Oh, I agree. Do continue. Where were you? Ah yes, you said ’tis not just … ’Tis just not what?”

He frowned and shook his head as her hand grazed over his chest and then began pulling at his tunic.

“ ’Tis not just unseemly. ’Tis a matter of respect. The men’s respect for me. I cannot command their respect if I’m being tumbled to the ground by my wife.”

He had mustered another grim scowl, but she tugged at his trews and freed his cock into her greedy grasp.

“Am I allowed to tumble you to the ground in the privacy of our chamber?”

His brows drew together in confusion. “What?”

She hooked her leg behind his knee and gave him a mighty shove. He stumbled back against the bed and went down on his back.

She climbed atop him and stared triumphantly down at him. “Now what is it you were saying, husband? I am ever obedient and am awaiting your instructions.”

He tucked his hands behind his head. “I wasn’t saying a damn thing. Not a thing. Carry on, wife.”

She smiled in satisfaction. “ ’Tis what I thought you said.” She lowered her mouth to his as she reached down to grasp his cock to fit it to her opening.

As he sank deep into her welcoming body, he sucked in his breath and then murmured against her mouth, “You have my permission to tumble me anywhere and as often as you like.”

CHAPTER 23

Rionna viewed the courtyard with an unhappy grimace as Caelen lit into a group of the warriors. The McDonald men weren’t happy with Caelen’s dressing down. Many of them glared defiantly at their new laird while others cast sullen glances in his direction and then openly defied him by turning away.

Simon and Hugh did their best to back their laird, but even they weren’t successful in rallying the men from their anger.

’Twas hard to hear that they were deemed inferior. ’Twas even harder to hear that they weren’t putting in enough work and they fought like women.

That last line drew Rionna’s ire, considering she fought better than most of the men. There was no need to insult women when drawing attention to the men’s inadequacies.

For a week now, since Caelen’s brother’s departure, Caelen had worked the men from dawn well into the night. The warriors had grown increasingly more vocal in their displeasure and more defiant with each day. Rionna worried that if things continued on their present course, Caelen would have a full-scale rebellion on his hands.

She shivered and pulled away from the window. She didn’t want Caelen to know she was observing. He had very distinct ideas on how he handled the men and he didn’t brook any interference. ’Twas the truth she wanted to step in and soothe the warriors. Remind them of what they fought for. And Caelen likely knew how tempted she was because he headed her off by warning her that he’d tolerate no intervention on her part.

She trudged back to the great hall and stood by the fire, smothering the yawn that overtook her. She was weary to her bones and it was God’s truth she hadn’t done much this day.

Malaise had gripped her for days and at first she’d worried she was taking ill, but she suffered no malady other than fatigue. ’Twas the truth her husband interfered with her sleep with his insatiable demands. Demands she met with many of her own.

She woke every single morning before dawn to him deep inside her, possessing her with ruthless determination. Always he left her with a gentle kiss after taking her roughly, and then he’d leave her to sleep when he departed the chamber.

They began the night with loving and they ended it thus.

She yawned again and wondered if she shouldn’t take to her bed a little earlier this night in preparation for the vigorous bout of loving she knew they’d indulge in. How Caelen met the daily demands of training and survived on so little sleep she’d never know.

She stuck out her hands to the fire to ward off the chill that had set in deep and stared into the flames as her eyes grew heavier and heavier. ’Twas unlike her to be so listless.

She shook herself out of her fog when Gannon strode into the hall.

“My lady, Caelen is ready for your lesson. He says if you’re wanting to practice, you’re to hasten. He’s only set aside an hour’s time for you today while the men are breaking.”

Rionna frowned. “Does he never plan to take a break?”

Gannon looked at her oddly as if ’twas a ridiculous question, and she supposed it was. Caelen was inhuman in his stamina.

“Let me fetch my sword,” she said.

“I’ll fetch it for you, my lady. You go to Caelen.”

Rionna murmured her thanks and then hurried toward the door. She stepped into the snow and grimaced. Caelen would lecture her about forgetting her cloak but ’twas much easier to spar without it.

He waited for her on the outer perimeter of the training area where they practiced every day. Rionna had never been tempted to beg off, but today she’d give most anything to crawl into her bed and stay there the rest of the afternoon.

She refused to say a single word to Caelen. She’d fought too hard to get him to agree to let her continue practicing with the sword. She’d give him no reason to forbid her from it again.

“Where is your sword?” he asked impatiently.

His mood was black. He’d be unrelenting today. She wanted to groan but bit her lip.

“Gannon is fetching it.”

Caelen cast an impatient glance over his shoulder and then turned back to her.

“We’ll practice hand to hand until he arrives. If you lose your sword in battle, you must rely on your wits and your hand-to-hand skills to remain alive.”

She looked warily at the glint in his eye. He was spoiling for a fight today, but she didn’t want to give him one. He’d crush her like a bug.

She nearly wilted in relief when Gannon strode up and handed her the sword. Caelen looked faintly disappointed.

“Don’t disappoint me today,” Gannon muttered before he retreated.

“I’ll try my best,” Rionna said with heavy sarcasm.

As soon as her hand curled around the hilt, she let out a yell and charged. Surprise glinted in Caelen’s eyes a mere second before blistering satisfaction set in.

He met her attack and she was jarred to her toes when she blocked his forceful swing. Her teeth threatened to vibrate right out of her head.

For several minutes they fought furiously, but her strength quickly flagged. Every movement was like slogging through mud and her arms grew heavier with each passing second.

She was forced back when he advanced, circling his sword around his head and cutting in a downward slash. She blocked and then took another step back as her sword dipped precariously.

The tip swung down and dug into the earth. Her vision blurred and she gripped the hilt with both hands and hung on to keep from falling. Caelen’s look of surprise and then worry faded in and out of her sight as blackness crept in.

She sank to her knees, still gripping the sword, and then pitched sideways, hitting the snow as she lost consciousness.

Caelen reached her at the same time as Gannon. Both men went to their knees, and Caelen reached underneath her to pick her up before the dampness seeped into her clothing.

His heart thundered, pounding against his chest like a mace. Had he injured her? Had he in some way hit her with his sword? Surely he would have realized it.

He’d lost his concentration at a time when he could least afford it. He was sparring with his wife, not a warrior of equal size and strength. He’d been thinking of his difficulties with the men and how to remedy it, instead of taking care and ensuring that no harm came to his wife.

He gathered her close, holding her tightly to his chest, as he ran through the snow toward the entrance to the keep. He ignored the startled shouts around him and bounded up the stairs, Gannon hot on his heels.

He burst into his chamber and carefully laid Rionna on the bed. Then he began a thorough examination from head to toe, looking for any sign of injury. What he found baffled him.

There wasn’t a single mark on the lass. No blood. No bruises. No reason whatsoever for her to have lost consciousness.

It appeared that she had simply fainted. Was she ill?

“Send for Sarah,” Caelen ordered Gannon. “And tell her to hurry.”

When Gannon had gone, Caelen touched Rionna’s pale cheek and cursed under his breath. He should have never allowed this foolishness.

“Rionna. Rionna, lass, wake up.”

She didn’t stir and he became even more worried. What if she were gravely ill? She was a stubborn lass. It would be just like her not to say anything.

He looked up in relief when he heard a noise in the hall. Sarah hurried in, followed by Neda, who served as their healer.

“What happened, Laird?” Neda asked.

Caelen stood so that the women could crowd in around Rionna to examine her. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “We were sparring and she fainted. I can find no sign of injury.”

Sarah made a shooing gesture in Caelen’s direction. “Wait in the hall, Laird. Give us some breathing room. We’ll see to the lass. I suspect ’tis not a serious matter. She’s been tired of late.”

Caelen frowned and reluctantly allowed Gannon to herd him outside the chamber. He hadn’t noticed that Rionna had been tired. Guilt crowded his mind. He woke her early each morn with his demands and kept her up late into the night. He hadn’t considered the toll on her. She’d become a need he couldn’t explain.

He woke beside her, needing her, wanting her so badly that ’twas no longer desire that motivated him. It was a bone-deep need to possess her, to imprint her on his skin.

And at the end of the day, he was eager and impatient to retire to their bedchamber where they took turns being the aggressor. His favorite times were when she climbed astride him, as determined to have him as he was her.

He was possessive, aye, but so was she. He’d decided he liked it very much.

“What can be keeping them?” Caelen bit out as he paced back and forth in front of the door.

“It’s only been a few moments,” Gannon said. “I’m sure the lass is fine. She might have a touch of upset. Perhaps ’twas something she ate.”

“Sarah said she’d been tired of late. Why didn’t I notice this?”

“You’ve been busy training the men. It doesn’t leave a lot of room to notice much else. She’s a sturdy lass. I’ve no doubt she’ll be up and kicking your arse again in short order.”

Caelen scowled and shook his head but before he could give voice to the fact that he had no intention of accommodating her swordplay any longer, the door opened and Sarah poked her head out.

“I’d like a word with you, Laird. Out here since the lass is awake now.”

“Is she all right?” Caelen demanded. “I would see for myself.”

Sarah held up a hand. “Now don’t go getting yourself worked up. The lass is fine. Nothing a little rest won’t cure. I’m guessing you didn’t know she was carrying.”

Caelen gave her a blank look. “Carrying what?”

She rolled her eyes. “A babe. She’s pregnant she is.”

Caelen stood there processing what Sarah had just related but he couldn’t quite grasp it. Fury tightened his muscles and he shook his head at his wife’s daring. Sarah obviously thought it an odd reaction to the news, but at the moment he didn’t much care beyond the thought that he was going to blister his wife’s ears just as soon as she’d sufficiently recovered from her current weakness.

He turned to Gannon and pointed at the door. “She is not to leave this room for the remainder of the day, nor is she to rise from her bed. See to it.”

He turned and stalked down the hallway. He had a sudden need to shed some blood. Whose wasn’t of consequence. He’d had enough of the McDonald men and their unseemly reluctance to put in the work required to shape them into a decent fighting force.

’Twas a shame when their mistress was more of a man than they were.

CHAPTER 24

“Normally I wouldn’t ever encourage gainsaying your husband, but the men think he has done something to harm you, lass, and ’tis the truth they’re not happy over the prospect. If you don’t make an appearance, the laird is likely going to have an unruly mob on his hands.”

Rionna glanced up at Sarah and then pointedly over to where Gannon stood, arms crossed over his chest, as he listened to the conversation.

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