"It's been a year since I've beaten you at the games." Dugan McDougall smirked at Calum over a cup of ale. The others at the table laughed and waited for him to respond.

He and his cousin had been rivals at the saber toss since before both had grown to be the largest men in the clan. Although Dugan was taller, the huge Scot was not unbeatable. Calum, at only half a head shorter and as muscular, was the only man to have ever beaten him several times.

"It's only fair that you win at least once every few years," Calum countered to everyone's amusement. The seat to his right remained empty and he scanned the room for his wife. Meagan was very late to break her fast, which was unusual. The visiting clan had already inquired about her and he considered sending a maid to fetch her.

His cousin Ian, next in line to laird of the northern McDougall clan, got his attention. "How is the fair Meagan? Does she not join you for the morning meal any longer? Perhaps tired of that overly ugly face already?"

Although others laughed, he didn't find any humor in his cousin's words. "My wife is normally an early riser. I don't know what keeps her today." Once again he scanned the room for Meagan.

A serving wench neared and leaned across the table, her ample bosom taking Ian's full attention. "More ale, my laird?"

"Aye. My thanks."

She took as long as possible to pour his drink until he motioned with his hand for her to move away. With a pout, she straightened and flounced to the next table.

The room went quiet. Calum glanced at Ian, but his cousin did not look at the wench walking away, his attention was locked somewhere past the woman.

A lady had entered the great room. The beautiful creature nodded at people as she glided past several tables and stopped to talk to some women seeming to know them. With a small waist and full breasts showcased perfectly by the low cut blue gown, she took Calum’s breath away. Her long auburn tresses covered the side of her face and he was about to ask Ian whom it was then she turned to face him.

Meagan.

He could only stare dumbfounded while Ian leaned over to him and made a remark about how lucky he was. If ever there was a time for him to control his rage, it was this day. Why was she dressed in such a manner? Did she have to look so beautiful and fetching with all the visiting clansmen about?

She neared and stood next to her chair. "Good morning, husband."

"Aye, good morning." Jaw tight, he stood and assisted her to sit. When she bent at the waist to adjust her skirts and slip into the chair he heard throats clear. The entire time he fought to keep his gaze from delving down her bodice.

No sooner than Meagan sat did Ian, who sat on the opposite side of her, take her attention.

Calum tried to ignore their conversation and kept an eye on a group of newcomers who entered the room to rousing greetings.

The northern McDougalls were a robust branch of the family with loud laughs and sturdy appetites. The games would start directly after the morning meal, which he knew, would last much longer than usual by all the gay chatter. The beginning of the games would be slow with more talk than action.

A tingle of feminine laughter flowed and he turned to see Meagan's eyes twinkling with mirth at whatever Ian said. She blushed prettily at whatever the brute spouted and Calum bent toward his cousin.

"Ian, do you wish to join Dugan and Conor outside? They are about to take to the field to practice?"

Calum seethed when the irritating man waved him off. "Nay, I would like to remain here a bit longer. I will wait until Meagan finishes her meal and escort her to greet the women who arrive."

Meagan turned to him, for the first time since entering the room did she pay him attention. Her eyes locked on his lips but for a moment and hers curved into a soft smile. "Will you await me to finish my meal as well, husband?"

Caught off guard by her...what was it… flirting? He could only nod and she turned back to her plate. "Very well."

Ian raised an eyebrow at him. "Calum, you should go, you lost to Dugan last year. Don't lose time when you should be practicing."

Meagan smiled when Ian snorted out a chuckle, her attention again back to his infuriating cousin.

What came over his wife? Has someone who'd come captured her attention and she'd dressed for him? He scanned the room. It was difficult to choose one interested male since most of them seemed enthralled by both his wife and his sister. He let out a growl and Meagan turned to him.

"What ails you, husband?" Her pretty hazel eyes scanned his face and then to his empty plate. "Would you like more food?"

"No. I'm fine." Feeling childish, he let out a breath. "Just preparing mentally for the games."

"I see." She looked past him to his brother-in-law Jamie. "I'm sure our clan will be the best. Even with an Englishman." She smiled at Jamie Westcott, Cailyn's husband.

"I’ll have you know I've bested many a McDougall in the past days," Jamie retorted.

Several nearby clansmen looked at them. One stood and held up his tankard. "To the games!"

Rousting and cheers, eventually breaking into a song of conquest and victory, followed the male's statement.

Meagan laughed and clapped along.

Too busy watching the transformation in his wife Calum took little notice of anything else that happened.

His brother-in-law slapped him on the shoulder. "Whatever you did last night has Lady Meagan in good form."

They'd slept in separate bedrooms, as he'd made it a habit. It was necessary to keep from taking her. He'd not risk hurting her or worse. Something told him if he didn't tread carefully he could well be on the path to losing her regardless.

The day was bright, barely a cloud in sight. The men gathered on opposite sides of a large field. Tents were set up the day before and benches built to allow spectators to sit while watching the competition.

Cook was already commanding lads and wenches to bring forth the stuffs to prepare the midday picnic. Calum walked with Jamie while ensuring everyone was settling well into their places where they'd spend the next four nights.

"This is quite impressive," Jamie told him also scanning the surroundings. "It seems everyone is of good cheer."

"Aye. My clan and the northern McDougalls take turns hosting the games every other summer." Calum could not keep the pride from his voice. "I hear it said everyone prefers it when they are held here in my keep."

A boar on a spit was spun over a fire. Jamie nodded and watched as several lads carried a large tray laden with bread and fruit. "I can understand why. I've just eaten and already my mouth waters."

It was hard to believe that just months earlier his clan, along with most of Scotland, warred with England, and the Red Pirate rose to fame by supplying both sides with weapons and such. Now, Jamie Westcott was married to his sister and retired from life at sea. Instead, content to life in the lowlands with Cailyn.

Hours later drenched with sweat, Calum drank cold water and stood with several clansmen who watched the competition. He scanned the field where many of the women gathered but did not see his wife.

Dugan turned to him. "Aye, Calum, we compete on the morrow. Perhaps you should practice more, your last toss was a wee bit short."

The men guffawed at Dugan's ribbing, but he barely heard them at spotting Meagan walking with his sister. The women had their heads together, at the same time, both looked towards him. From their serious faces he wondered if something was amiss. Meagan's expression became tight before she looked away. Whatever happened, she was not happy.

He started towards her when Ian appeared at her elbow. He spoke to both women and their disposition changed. Meagan's warm smile at his cousin made Calum's gut clench. When was the last time she'd looked at him so? Her hand reached for a lock of hair on her shoulder and she twirled it between her fingers, the entire time engrossed in whatever nonsense Ian spilled.

He charged across the field no longer able to stand idly by while his cousin took all of his wife's attention.

Cailyn materialized before him. So engrossed was he in what Meagan did that he stepped on his sister's foot. "Ouch," Cailyn pushed him back. "You hurt me, you big oaf." She hopped about dramatically.

Sure her ever-doting husband would run to her rescue, Calum crossed his arms and waited.

By some miracle Captain Jamie Westcott did not appear. Cailyn snapped her fingers in Calum's face. "Meagan is unhappy. You have to do something." She emulated his stance and crossed her arms looking at him as if he knew what she spoke of.

Meagan seemed happy enough, was smiling and walked toward the clanswomen's tent, escorted by Ian. "She seems pleased enough right now." He snapped and watched as the two stood for a few moments speaking before she went under the shelter.

"Well, she is not." Cailyn retorted and walked away. He caught up with her and took her elbow. "What in the devil are you talking about, sister?"

"You know, Calum, I think I will let you figure it for yourself. Why don't you ask your wife?" With that she stomped off.

That night the musicians played one lively tune after another. Calum watched his siblings and their spouses dance and considered asking Meagan to dance. She stood by his side speaking with a clanswoman and clapped or tapped her foot to the music. When her eyes met his, once again her lips curved and her gaze drifted from his eyes to linger on his lips before moving onto his chest. Just as he was about to ask her to dance, she looked away to speak to another woman who approached.

Calum's heart skipped and he swallowed. He should have asked her to dance. Why did he feel like a schoolboy? God's foot, this was his wife not some stranger.

The serving wench came to stand slightly behind him. Once again her bosom about to spill over. The woman had warmed his bed many a night prior to his marriage, but he'd refused her since. She touched his arm while continuing to look toward the dancers. "Does my laird not wish to dance tonight?"

"I may dance later, Bertrice," he replied. "I've yet to drink enough ale to become adventurous enough."

"The night grows to an end, my laird." The woman laughed before moving away.

It was true, the musicians would play maybe a few more jigs. The clansmen were not as rowdy as usual, saving their strength for the next days' games. He turned to find Meagan gone. His eyes snapped back to the dance floor and found her.

With Ian.

If it weren’t for all the visiting clans people, he would plant his fist squarely into his cousin's face.

She flushed enchantingly while dancing and laughed at whatever Cailyn whispered in her ear while passing by. Then she seemed to relay what was said to Ian who threw his head back and laughed as well.

Calum clenched his jaw. Enough. The song ended, and they remained standing in wait of the next tune.

Perfect timing.

He walked up and placed his hand on Ian's shoulder squeezing it non-too-gently. "My turn."

Ian bowed and mirth-filled eyes met his. "Of course, Laird."