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.