“Will someone tell me what the blazes is going on?” Caelen demanded. “And does it have anything to do with the strange woman sitting on the hillside?”
Ewan followed Caelen’s gaze to where Mairin sat on the hill that overlooked the keep. Trust Caelen to have immediately observed a stranger in the keep. He was exceedingly cautious about who gained access. A lesson learned the hard way.
“She’s not staying,” Crispen said unhappily.
Ewan turned sharply toward his son. “Why do you say that?”
“She said she couldn’t.”
“Ewan? Am I going to have to beat the information from you?” Caelen asked.
Ewan held up his hand to silence Caelen. “Did she say anything else, Crispen?”
Crispen frowned and opened his mouth but then shut it promptly again, his lips forming a tight, mutinous line. “I already broke my promise,” he muttered. “I shouldn’t say anything else.”
Ewan sighed and shook his head. This whole bloody mess was enough to give him a giant ache in his temples. God save him from stubborn, secretive females. Worse, she’d completely won his son’s heart, and she couldn’t leave the keep fast enough.
He frowned at that thought. It wasn’t as though he wanted her to stay. He didn’t want Crispen hurt, but neither did he want the hassle of a difficult woman or the trouble she brought with her.
“Why don’t you run along so I can properly welcome your uncle home. I have much I need to discuss with Caelen and Alaric.”
Instead of looking offended, Crispen’s eyes glimmered with relief. He turned and headed straight back up the hill toward where Mairin had sat. Only now she was gone. Ewan glanced around for the direction she’d taken, but she was nowhere to be seen.
“Mairin? Who the hell is Mairin and what does she have to do with Crispen? Furthermore, what is she doing here?”
Ewan jerked his thumb in Alaric’s direction. “He brought her.”
As expected, Alaric immediately denied his part in the whole mess. Ewan held back his laughter at the weariness in Alaric’s voice.
Caelen was close to losing his patience, not that he had much, so Ewan told him everything he knew. Alaric filled in some of the information, and when they were done, Caelen looked at Ewan in disbelief.
“She would tell you nothing? And you allowed this?”
Ewan sighed. “What would you have me do, beat her as Cameron did? The lass will come around. I’ve given her until tomorrow to decide to trust me.”
“And what will you do when she refuses tomorrow?” Alaric smirked.
“She won’t refuse me.”
“The important thing is we have Crispen back,” Caelen said. “What the woman does or says is irrelevant. If Cameron comes looking for a fight, I’ll be more than happy to give him one and then we’ll send the woman on her way.”
“Come, ’tis getting dark and Gertie will have dinner waiting. She doesn’t like to serve a cold meal and well you know it,” Ewan said. “Leave the matter of Mairin to me. The two of you needn’t concern yourself over it.”
“As if we’d want to,” Caelen muttered, as he shouldered past Ewan.
Chapter 7
Mairin gathered her shawl closer around her body and crept over the crumbling wall of the stone skirt. She’d chosen the pathway closest to the loch because fewer guards were posted on that side. After all, an enemy could hardly come barging over the water to attack.
The spring air had a decided nip, and suddenly the decision to leave the warmth of her small chamber didn’t seem so wonderful.
The evening repast had been a stressful event. She’d taken one look at the laird’s youngest brother and thought better of her promise to sit next to Crispen at the table. He scowled at her, and it wasn’t as if she hadn’t been treated to scowls from the other McCabe brothers, but there was a darkness to Caelen’s frown that unnerved her.
She’d uttered an excuse about not feeling well and had immediately retreated above stairs. Undaunted by her departure, Crispen brought a plate of food to her door, and the two of them had sat cross-legged in front of the fire to eat.
Afterward, she pleaded fatigue and sent Crispen on his way. And she waited. For hours she listened for the sounds of the keep to diminish. When she was sure everyone was abed, or at least safely ensconced in their quarters, she snuck down the stairs and out the entrance that faced the loch.
She breathed easier when she entered the shelter of the trees that divided part of the loch from the keep. Here she could move with relative obscurity and follow the loch until she was away.
A great splash startled her, and she turned in the direction of the water. She went still, holding her breath as she peered through the trees toward the inky black water. There was barely a moon this night, and only a slim light was cast onto the rippling surface.
It was enough for her to see that three men were taking a late swim. It was also enough for her to see who was taking the swim. Ewan McCabe and his brothers were diving into the loch, and God have mercy on her, they didn’t have a stitch of clothing on.
She immediately covered her eyes with both hands, mortified beyond all measure that she’d just seen the backsides of three grown men. Were they mad? The loch had to be incredibly cold. She shivered at the mere thought of just how icy such a swim would be.
For several minutes she sat, hunkered down by a tree, hands covering her eyes until finally she eased them away only to see Ewan McCabe come walking from the water. Her eyes rounded in shock, and her hands hung limply at her sides as she stared, transfixed by the sight of a fully naked man. He stood, drying himself with acloth, and each stroke only drew attention to his muscled body. And … And … she couldn’t even bring herself to think about the area between his legs.
When she realized she was staring quite unabashedly at his … his … manhood, she promptly clapped both hands over her eyes again and sank her teeth into her bottom lip to stifle the squeak that threatened to spill out.
Her only hope was that they would finish their swim and go back to the keep. She couldn’t risk moving about in the trees and attracting attention, but neither did she want to sit here staring immodestly.
Heat suffused her cheeks, and though she kept her eyes firmly covered, the image of Ewan McCabe without clothing burned through her mind with astonishing clarity. No matter what she did, she couldn’t rid herself of the memory of him walking from the water—completely and utterly naked.