Angus agreed and Rachel snorted. Meg ignored them both.
“Can we get to the cave?” she asked Caden. “Now.”
“Right now there’s a blizzard blowing,” Ewan said.
“And a wedding to celebrate,” Jonet said, indicating the filling room.
“Climbing a mountain is no activity for a wee lass,” Angus added to the jumble of comments.
Meg kept her gaze locked with her husband’s. “The letters would be a wedding gift,” she breathed. “And it would ensure Rowland Boswell would leave us alone.”
“Rowland Boswell will leave ye alone,” Caden vowed. “Ye are under protection of the Macbains.”
“And the Macleods,” Colin added.
“And the Munros,” Rachel said.
Tears stung behind Meg’s eyes. She was not alone in the world. Regardless of her talents, she had support and family.
“Thank you,” she managed to say, her happiness broadening as Caden let his own fill his face. There was pride there. For her? For the peace he was restoring to this part of Scotland? No matter. He was truly happy. Caden’s joy filled her with joy.
Was that love?
“We will still journey to the letters,” Caden added. “Just not in a snowstorm, wife.”
She laughed. Yes, it was love…or at least the beginning of it.
“To the celebration, then,” Ann said, and several “ayes” followed.
Meg rose on tiptoe, her hands on Caden’s shoulders. He took the hint and lowered his face to hers for a soft, slow kiss.
They pulled back from one another. “I did try to wake ye, lass, but alas ye would not stir. I think ye were up too late last eve.” Caden’s eyes sparked with mischievous intent, warming Meg with a blush that heated all parts of her body.
“Aye, husband, I was.”
He kissed the tip of her nose and took up her hand. “I will let ye rest tonight.”
“Don’t you dare,” she whispered and ignored the flush that infused her face.
Caden raised his eyebrows at her wanton comment and laughed.
“Here, here!” Ewan yelled. He came forth with a tankard of bridal ale for Meg as they walked to the table. He nodded at Caden, an indication the drink was safe, and grabbed one for himself and Caden. “To the happy couple!”
“Sláinte mhor!”
“Sláinte mhath!” the people cheered to their health.
Meg let the honey ale slide down her throat. Nothing more had come from the mushroom incident, but Caden wasn’t taking any chances.
“Today we celebrate before God and his witnesses, my union to Meg.” He hesitated for a heartbeat. “To Meg Macleod.”
A cheer rose up from a corner of the room.
“That would be part of yer clan, lass,” Colin said.
Meg waved in their direction.
“And we celebrate peace. May God bless us with strong children and a united Scotland!” Caden roared and the room answered.
Caden scooped Meg up in his arms and she laughed. He wobbled, pretending to stumble. She gasped and clasped her arms around his neck while he chuckled and smacked his shoulder. The simple act grew into joy as they laughed together. Instead of putting her in her own seat, Caden sat down in his own with Meg on his lap.
“I cannot properly meet people perched on your knees,” Meg said.
“Perhaps I want to keep ye safely tucked against me,” he said, his face dimming a bit.
“Surely we’re safe.” Meg’s gaze skating across the happy faces, many of whom had formed lines for the first dance.
Caden’s gaze watched the throng. “An enemy could always slip within.”
Meg rubbed Caden’s rock-hard arm. “Relax and enjoy, husband,” she said, though she was glad that he took possible threats seriously.
“I never relax,” he murmured.
Meg drew close to Caden’s ear and shivered. “I won’t stray from those I know well tonight.”
“Ye are cold,” he said.
“Just when the doors swing open.”
“Which is about every minute,” he grumbled at the mass of merrymakers.
“I’ll just fetch my cloak upstairs,” Meg said, and Ann stood with her.
“I’ll go, too.” Her easy jump up stopped Caden from standing. “If the two of ye end up in yer room together, we won’t see ye the rest of the night.”
Everyone within earshot laughed. Meg linked with Ann’s arm and they strode through the throng, greeting and smiling until they were in the dimly lit stairwell. They climbed quickly.
“Thank you, Ann. The celebration is very merry.”
Ann leapt up onto the next flat stair. “God’s teeth!” she cursed and grabbed hold of Meg. Meg grabbed onto a chiseled hand hold in the wall next to her to stop them both from tumbling down the long flight of stone.
“What is it?” Meg asked.
“I don’t know, pebbles or something on the step.”
The last thing Meg wanted to do was answer questions about her magic light, so she slid her hand carefully over the step that had thrown Ann. “Dangerous. Pebbles rolled all along the step. They weren’t there when we descended. And the wall torch is extinguished here.”
Meg sensed Ann’s heart rate rise again as she, too, realized that this was not an accident. Who were the stones meant for? What if she’d been alone and hadn’t been able to catch herself?
“Let’s find a broom. There’s one by my hearth,” Meg said. “We’ll sweep them to the side on the way back down.”
Ann took a deep breath and held tight while they gingerly walked up the remaining steps. They lit a torch from the fire in Meg’s room to light the steps better and walked back down together. Meg relit the extinguished wall torch while Ann swept the pebbles to the side.
“We’ll clean them up later,” Ann said. “We should tell Caden.”
Meg sighed. “He’s liable to question everyone in the hall.”
“He should,” Ann said. “We could have been killed, ye could have. And after that mushroom mistake, I’m looking over my shoulder, too.”
“I’m just glad you came with me.” Meg squeezed Ann’s arm. They left the broom on the stair.
Cape and torch in hand, Meg and Ann made their way down, carefully watching the dim steps.
As they rounded the corner under the darkened archway, a hand shot out and grabbed Meg’s wrist.
She dropped Ann’s hand to take back her confined wrist and her cloak dropped to the floor. With one jerk and twist of her wrist downward, just like Uncle Harold had taught her, Meg was free. She brandished the torch before her. Fire would surely keep the ogre away.
Gilbert Davidson’s face froze for a moment in surprise. “I would like to pay my congratulations to the bride,” he said and bowed. He tried to grab her hand again but she moved the torch in a quick jab. Quickly, Ann hurried down the steps, glancing back.
“You weren’t invited.” Meg wasn’t sure if he had been, but after their last encounter, she doubted that Caden would invite the man.
“I brought more grain and noticed the gaiety. When I realized ye had married The Macbain, and so quickly, well, I wanted to wish ye many blessings.” His insinuation that there was a carnal reason they had to marry quickly beat at Meg’s composure, but she wouldn’t let down her torch or her guard.
“Your well wishes and grain are appreciated, but you may want to let me pass before Ann returns with Caden.”
“Yer husband had to step out to inspect the barrel of grain I graciously brought. Too bad the Munros burnt all their fields this past harvest.”
The Munros? Her uncle was responsible for these good people nearly starving?
“Ann will find someone else to come.”
Gilbert’s face hardened, making the glint in his eye razor sharp. “What if they can’t find ye?”
Meg’s instincts flooded her with energy. She turned on her heel, ready to walk back into the great hall, when he punched the torch right out of her grip. The flame slid, spitting and
sparking along the stone floor. She leapt forward to run, but he pushed her shoulder with enough force to spin her. She flattened up against the rock wall.
He leaned in, his palms flat on either side of Meg’s head. “A quick kiss and we’ll be on our way.”
…
Caden rounded the corner as Meg kneed Gilbert Davidson with a quick thrust. Gilbert grunted and she ducked under his arm and slammed right into Caden’s unyielding chest. He whirled her to the side and grabbed Gilbert up by the throat, ramming him against the same stone wall.
“Bloody insolent ass!” Caden seethed with fury. “Do you think to accost my wife in her own home?”
Gilbert tried to make a noise but couldn’t get it past Caden’s grip.
“Accost and abduct,” Meg said as she huffed, catching her breath.
Caden dropped Gilbert but drew the dirk from his boot, holding its point a mere inch from the pulse at Gilbert’s neck.
“A misunderstanding,” Gilbert said. “I was trying to make up to your lady for that mixup in your forest.” He glared back at Caden. “So I asked for a friendly kiss. I was unaware of what an insecure, smothering groom ye are, Macbain.” He shook his head at Meg, completely ignoring the threat of the dirk. “A pity for ye, milady.”
Meg’s eyes snapped fire. “I am not your friend and have no need of your pity. I much enjoy my husband’s smothering and he is most secure in his abilities to love me so well that stars swim before my eyes.”
Caden lowered his dirk and stared at her, unable for a moment to say anything in the wake of her boast.
Meg pointed to the torch that still sparked on the ground. “Luckily, I had a torch, else I’d have had to break his nose or gouge out his eyes to stop him from carrying me away.” She directed a glare at Gilbert so scathing and resolute that the insolent’s foolhardy expression wavered.
Caden grabbed him by the shirt. How dare he touch Meg! Try to take her from him!
“Like I said, just a bridal kiss and then I’d escort her back to you, of course.” Gilbert tried to connect with Meg’s gaze. “My comments were about no one finding ye here because we’d returned to the party already. Why in hell would I bring the wrath of The Macbain down on me by stealing his bride? I just bloody brought you more grain.”
Could Meg have misunderstood? Gilbert certainly scared her, attacked her enough that she was forced to defend herself. Caden breathed deep to control his fury and released his hold.
Gilbert straightened his shirt. “Such a temper. Would ye really start another war over a woman when ye just ended one? And I thought ye were the wise one.”
“Wise enough to know that my height would stand out above an oat field, making it difficult to burn without being seen.” Caden had always had his suspicions about the man. His father certainly coveted the Macbain land.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Macbain.”
“You know I am responsible for protecting and feeding my people,” Caden said, his dagger still in his fist. “If I find out a neighbor has declared a silent war against us, I will kill him.”
Gilbert’s Adam’s apple wobbled in his throat. “If ye kill me, Macbain, ye’ll have England to worry about.”
Meg’s breath hitched.
“Are you in league with the Sasunnach?” Caden demanded.
“Nay, but some in these mountains are. They pledge themselves to Henry in an attempt to befriend the land-greedy king.”
“And you have no interest in selling your principles for protection from English guns.”
“Nay,” Gilbert said, his grin fading to something like a feral grimace. “For someone who has just publicly proclaimed yer desire for a united Scotland, ye seem to be itching for another war.”
Caden slid his dagger back in its leather scabbard. “Leave or stay if you wish.” His unblinking eyes met Gilbert’s. “Either way, never touch my wife again.”
Meg stumbled into Gilbert, her mouth near his ear. What was she doing? “Tell Girshmel my beast survived and is hungry for him.”
Caden pulled her back and brushed her through the archway. The lass risked too much.
Meg sank down in her chair and closed her eyes. Bloody merriment still filled the hall so he couldn’t whisk her upstairs.
Caden sat down next to her and watched her breathe. He replayed the whole incident in his head while he waited. Gilbert was a problem, but he’d deal with that after the festival.
After a long moment she peeked out. “You’re…grinning?” she asked, worry marking her voice.
His eyebrow rose. “So well that stars swim before yer eyes?”
“The bridal ale is strong. I’m sorry if I—”
He held up a hand. “No apologies needed, wife. I’m just glad I had a chance to give ye something to boast about.”
Caden moved closer and kissed her lips. His heart slowed with her nearness, with her safety. He pulled back. “Are ye certain he didn’t harm ye in any way?”
“I am unharmed.” She sat up straighter. “Just worried that we have a new enemy.”
Caden laced his fingers through hers. “A united Scotland is a distant dream.” His expression turned grim. “Hot-tempered Highlanders butt heads more often than not. We’re a fierce lot, but our strength can also become our weakness.”
She leaned into him. “We’ve just taken a step backward, haven’t we?”
“Nay, lass, don’t think of it that way. I believe Gilbert Davidson was always an enemy. Now he’s one that I know of, which makes him much less dangerous.”
Ewan walked up. “I saw Gilbert Davidson.”
“He cornered Meg alone. I think he had more in mind than giving the bride a friendly kiss.”
Ewan scowled. “He fits the description of the tall man Angus saw with the torch.”
“He denies it, of course,” Caden said.
“He was hiding something,” Meg said.
Both men turned to her.
Meg sighed. “Remember when I said that Girshmel was part of the attack at Loch Tuinn?”
“Aye,” Ewan said.
“Just now as we were leaving, I mentioned that he should tell Girshmel that Nickum was still alive.”
“That’s why ye did that,” Caden said. “Ye risked too much.”
“He showed all the signs that he knew exactly what I was talking about and was nervous,” she answered.
“Ye got that just by touching him?” Ewan asked.
“Thanks to her gift,” Caden said, his eyes not leaving Meg. “She can tell when someone lies by the way their body reacts.”
“Amazing.” Ewan grinned at Caden. “So ye’ll be able to tell if Caden ever lies to ye.”
“Girshmel is working for Davidson,” Caden said, chewing on the information. “At the loch, Girshmel said that his boss would want ye.”
Caden watched Gilbert laugh his way through the crowds with another Davidson at his side.
“Simon follows him constantly, like an obedient dog,” Ewan said.
Caden relaxed his fist and grabbed a drumstick. “Davidson’s afraid to walk alone.”
Meg stared, her mouth dropping open. “Are you going to let him leave?”
“Aye,” Caden said, and took a bite.
“He’s dangerous.”
Ewan winked mischievously. “Don’t fret, milady, for yer husband is wise. Let the wolf return to the pack and wait to see if he truly is the leader. Because it’s the leader that must be thwarted.”
Meg turned to Caden. “You think he’s helping the English? Maybe Boswell?”
“Davidson brought it up, not me,” Caden said. “I won’t know if I capture him now unless he confesses under…pressure. If we do that, we could still lose the leader. Best to let Davidson think he’s safe. And I wouldn’t want to curse our wedding day feast.”
Wine followed the ale, along with roast goose and fresh herbed bread. Baked apples with honey were served with strong creamy cheeses. Caden tasted each thing Meg wanted to eat first, but nothing seemed out
of place. Bess hadn’t found who had poisoned Meg’s soup, and he hadn’t seen her here today. Father Daughtry sat at one end with a tankard and a full plate. The cleric laughed around a little hiccup and grinned sheepishly. Gwyneth sat with him and Ann joined them after making sure Meg was all right.
Caden ordered several of his warriors to follow Gilbert around the celebration until he left. Meg relaxed into his side, contentment in her features. The beauty of it pressed inside Caden’s chest. How could one wee lass fill him with such power, such calm and happiness? It was beyond anything he’d ever experienced.
“I’m so happy here,” she murmured. “Here with you. I’m glad I can help our people in some small way,” she said. “I am finally part of a family.”
Och, he had to tell her everything. Yes, she was part of this family and he’d hoped that none would tell Meg her initial status as captive. Maybe none would, but he would always know. She needed to know, deserved to know, and she should hear the truth from him.
She yawned and leaned into Caden. “How long do these parties last?”
It was his chance. He’d carry her above now and love her until stars swam before her eyes. Then he’d tell her everything. Not just the mission but the reason for his desperate act. He wouldn’t let her leave their room until she understood. Aye, it was a good plan.
“Until I can no longer stand the constant brush of yer leg against mine and that amazing flowery woman scent ye give off.” His eyes dropped to her low neckline and the soft swell of breasts pushed above its satin edging. “Until I can no longer pretend to concentrate on routine discussions about horses and government and must carry ye above.”
He leaned in close so that to anyone else it would seem like they were kissing. His lips brushed hers. “Until I can no longer contain my lust for my beautifully curved wi—”
Before he could even finish the word, Meg closed the miniscule distance between their lips, kissing him wantonly. She pulled him closer with one hand behind his head as he tilted her face to deepen the kiss.
A cold whoosh of air blew in as the doors banged open again. Meg shivered but continued the kiss.
A scream pierced the hall.
…
Meg jerked backward, her fingers squeezing Caden’s arm. Everyone turned toward the entryway. A woman wobbled in, covered with snow.
Captured Heart Page 19
