Chapters (45)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Copyright
- Chapter 1
- Chapter 2
- Chapter 3
- Chapter 4
- Chapter 5
- Chapter 6
- Chapter 7
- Chapter 8
- Chapter 9
- Chapter 10
- Chapter 11
- Chapter 12
- Chapter 13
- Chapter 14
- Chapter 15
- Chapter 16
- Chapter 17
- Chapter 18
- Chapter 19
- Chapter 20
- Chapter 21
- Chapter 22
- Chapter 23
- Chapter 24
- Chapter 25
- Chapter 26
- Chapter 27
- Chapter 28
- Chapter 29
- Chapter 30
- Chapter 31
- Chapter 32
- Chapter 33
- Chapter 34
- Chapter 35
- Chapter 36
- Chapter 37
- Chapter 38
- Chapter 39
- Dedication
- Excerpt from Never Love a Highlander
- Other Books by This Author
Instead he waited for his brothers to return while he kept silent watch over the women of the keep.
He should go back up to look in on Keeley, but Maddie had agreed to stay by her bedside while Alaric stayed belowstairs where he could hear the watchmen cry alarm.
The fire was dying in the hearth but instead of summoning someone to add logs, he set about the task himself and soon the flames licked over the dry wood and roared to life.
A cry went up from the courtyard and Alaric reared his head. He hurried to the door and down the steps into the brisk night air.
Ewan and Caelen led their party into the courtyard and Alaric silently took stock of the men. All were present and accounted for, which meant they’d either not been successful in tracking their quarry or they’d sustained no losses in the fight.
Ewan dismounted and absently wiped his hand over his tunic, leaving a smear of blood. Alaric strode forward. “Are you hurt?”
Ewan glanced down and shook his head. “Nay. We sustained no injuries.”
“They are dead?”
“Aye,” Caelen said in a dark voice. “They’ll not be a bother to us again.”
Alaric nodded. “Good.”
“They would not talk and ’tis God’s truth I wasn’t patient with my questioning,” Ewan said. “They were the same men who took Crispen and Keeley, and Keeley said they spoke of Cameron. ’Tis enough proof for me.”
“How much longer must we wait?” Alaric asked in a quiet voice.
Around them, the men went silent. They all looked to Ewan, the question burning in their eyes. They wanted war. They were ready for war. They all despised Cameron and all he’d done to the McCabe clan. No McCabe would rest until Cameron and all his allies were wiped from the face of the earth.
“Soon,” Ewan said tersely. “We must have patience. After my son or daughter is born, we’ll claim Neamh Álainn as is our right. We’ll unite the whole of the highlands through Alaric’s marriage to Rionna McDonald. Then we’ll spit Duncan Cameron on the end of our swords.”
A roar went up from the courtyard. Torches and swords were thrust skyward as the cry went from warrior to warrior. Swords clanked against shields, horses reared, and fists were raised as the din increased.
Alaric met the gazes of his brothers in the glow of surrounding torches. Ewan’s eyes were alight with determination, and for the first time, Alaric felt shame for his frustration over his impending marriage.
Ewan had given all to his clan. He’d gone without so every woman and child could eat. He’d put his men above himself in every manner. Now they were poised to be the most powerful clan in all of Scotland.