The guest chamber Maeve had been granted was beautiful, there was no way of denying it, but as she sat in the middle of her huge bed and looked around, all she could feel was unease. The comfortable bed might be perfect to make guests feel at home and feel pampered, but for Maeve, its massive size only highlighted the fact that there was nobody to share it with.
She and Deirdre, as the only women, had been given individual rooms in a completely different wing of the castle from where the men were being hosted. Maeve had seen that Cailean was unhappy with the arrangement, and in truth, so was she, but of course, it was the right thing to do. She had been alone before, much more alone than she was now, and she could bear it for a few nights. After all, she and Cailean were not officially married yet, and it was important for them to maintain some form of propriety while they were touring and trying to gain allies—they would not want to offend Murtagh McKenzie by carrying on inappropriately and risk him withdrawing the support he was offering.
No, it was better that they kept their official relationship as purely close camaraderie for now, at least until they couldproperly have their wedding. There were lots of reasons why that made sense, and Maeve knew them all. Except…
Except she still felt intense loneliness as she sat there now, comfortable but cold and alone. She wondered if she'd be able to sleep without hearing Cailean's breathing next to her; she was so used to him now that she feared she might have to spend the next few nights awake, whittling away the hours while she stared at the canopy and just waited for the dawn to arrive.
Sighing heavy, Maeve flopped back onto her pillows. How strange it was that she found herself missing home! Her whole life, she'd never really had one. Her childhood was spent in the O'Sullivan Castle with a family who did not care for her nor make her feel like she was where she belonged. Only Breana had ever been home to her, but she'd never felt any attachment to the castle. Then, when she'd been wed the first time to Malcolm Darach, that hadn't been a home either. She'd felt more like a prisoner than a bride.
But Bruce Castle, her home with the rebels—it would not be where she lived forever, she knew that, but it was a place where she felt like she was safe. A place where she knew that she could return when things went wrong. A place where she knew, no matter what happened, there would always be people who cared for her. Was this what it felt like to have a family? She'd never imagined she'd be capable or welcomed into this kind of love. But now there was more than just herself and Breana. In fact, there were more names than she could list, all of them on her side, all of them making her feel strong.
And Cailean. Her beloved Cailean. She felt already that they were wed in her heart, even if they were still to officially have the ceremony that would declare them man and wife in the eyes of the law and the heavens. No matter what happened next, she would be by his side and he would be with her. They would fight together to bring their country back to its full glory, butmore than that, they'd fight whatever stood against them to stay together against whatever obstacles they might face.
Groaning, Maeve turned on her side. She needed to try to sleep. Tomorrow would be one of the biggest days of their lives, one of the most momentous for the rebellion, and it would not do to be bleary-eyed while she stood at Cailean's side as they made history.
She wasn't sure how long she lay there with her eyes closed, no closer to actual sleep approaching, when she heard the noise. Her eyes flew open, and she sat up, staring blindly toward the vague shape of the door. Someone's footsteps had just sounded outside her room, and stopped just outside the entrance.
Slipping out of bed, Maeve reached for the small dagger she always kept at her bedside. It wasn't as effective as Tailfeather, but she could certainly cause enough damage to defend herself if need be. She hesitated, then lit the candle on her bedside, causing light to spill over the room. There would be no advantage to the darkness; she would not be able to defend herself if she could not see.
The door opened with a slow creak, and Maeve flitted over to it, hiding out of sight, dagger in hand. The invader stepped in and Maeve pounced, ready to attack. She threw herself on the intruder, raising her dagger to his throat, and said, "One wrong move and—och, ye bampot! Ye scared me!"
Cailean held his hands up in defense and laughed at her exclamation. "Sorry! Me apologies, love. Could ye maybe take the dagger from me throat?"
Maeve lowered the dagger, placing it on a little table to the side, but she did not move from her aggressive stance otherwise. One of her hands reached up and gripped Cailean's wrist. "Ye're an intruder in a woman's room, sir," she told him.
Kicking the door closed behind him, Cailean stared at her hand on his wrist for a moment, then his lips unfurled into awicked grin. "I am a villain, ‘tis true," he replied. "What are ye gonnae do about it?"
Maeve gave him a frank look. "I could take ye in a fight. Barehanded if need be. Dinnae test me."
"Is that so?" Cailean asked. He yanked his wrist out of her grasp and lurched forward, grabbing at her.
Maeve shrieked, glad now of her room's isolation that she wouldn't be overheard, and dodged out of the way. He missed and stumbled, and both of them laughed.
"Ye're a fast one," he commented. "I always forget how swift ye are."
"Swift as a fox," Maeve replied, dancing out of the way as he moved to grab her again.
They continued to playfully fight, Cailean attacking and Maeve swiftly avoiding, or Maeve on the attack and Cailean blocking. Their fight pulled them through the bedroom, until suddenly Maeve found herself tripping backward and, with a yelp of surprise, landing on the bed.
Cailean leaned over her, a playfully smug smirk on his face. "Victory! Do ye yield?"
Maeve reached up and grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling his face down to kiss her. When they were done, she whispered against his lips, "Never. Look at ye. Ye're breakin' propriety and puttin' us all tae shame."
Chuckling, Cailean moved to whisper in her ear, the warmth of his breath tickling her skin. "Would ye like me tae behave meself?"
"Of course," she replied, running her hand through his flaxen hair, enjoying the softness of it beneath her fingers. "What else?"
"Ye're right," Cailean murmured. He lightly nipped at her earlobe with his teeth, then started a trail of kisses and nibbles down the side of her neck. Maeve gasped at the sensation, squirming with his weight on top of her and the exciting joltshis work was giving her. "We should show some decorum immediately."
"Immediately," Maeve agreed in a breathy voice.
Cailean's hands moved to the ties at the front of her night dress and slowly untied them, allowing the shift to fall open. She made a little surprised noise as her breasts were exposed to the cold night air, her nipples hardening both from the temperature and from the feeling as Cailean's hands slipped over her chest and set to work. His mouth soon followed, his tongue flicking and his lips working, tempting a little whimper from deep within Maeve's throat.
She closed her eyes as her whole body pulsed under his touch, and when his hands pulled her nightdress the rest of the way down off her body, leaving her fully exposed, she whispered, "Now this isdefinitelyimproper."
Cailean laughed throatily. He sank to his knees at the foot of the bed, his kisses continuing a trail down her stomach. "I told ye. I'm a villain."
Maeve opened her eyes to look down at him, watching him move leisurely down her body, his hands returning to her breasts briefly before sliding down to her hips. "Then show me the extent of yer villainy," she challenged.
