Page 59 of Plaid Attitude
In the fortnight since Laird Oliphant had stepped down, the castle had been bustling, and they were lucky Coira’s sisters and husbands had opted to stay.
The new Lady Oliphant was doing a good job of balancing the need for discipline and strength with reminding her clan why they loved her…and Doughall loved her even more for it.
And each time he held her, he reminded her he was there for her.
Wouldbe there for her, for the rest of their lives.
Of course, the last fortnight hadn’t been easy on him, either. He’d used the time to shore up the clan’s defenses and ensure they were well-protected in case of attack. Thank St. Berthwald’s, it seemed as if Edgar and Arnold’s schemes had never progressed past the theoretical, and none of the neighboring clans had received word of the Oliphants’ weaknesses.
For the last sennight, Bessetta and Lady Leanna had been busy mapping out the castle’s secret passageways; Doughall planned to brick up many of the entrances, but the maps would be helpful to future generations.
While the project kept Bessetta busy, he knew she was still plagued by nightmares. The lassie was occupied by finding new homes for her menagerie, but sometimes he found her staring off into space—holding a puppy or a frog or something—with a haunted look in her eyes.
But she was getting better, and moving into the castle with her parents was helpful. She immediately became close friends with Coira’s mother, which surprised everyone, and the pair were often found in the auld laird’s chamber, where Bessetta would be showing off whatever new creature she’d rescued. She’d even found a way to convince Bill the Ass to cease shiteing in the great hall!
Aye, his daughter was improving, and he was beyond grateful to everyone who helped her.
Having her own chamber—Lady Leanna’s old room—to house so many of her animals, helped as well.
Kester interrupted his musings. “I’ve been meaning to talk to ye, Doughall, about the dog.”
“The dog?”
“I dinnaewantthe dog. I mean, he’s cute, and God kens he’s protective, which is always nice. But he eats like a-a—something that eats verra much.”
Since Kester had obviously been sampling the whiskyandale, Doughall was having trouble understanding. “What dog?”
Brodie took pity on him and jabbed an elbow in his side. “Yer daughter gifted Robena a huge, shaggy beast, and the lass loves him.”
Kester peered mournfully into his cup. “Iused to be the huge, shaggy beast she loved.”
“Och,” interrupted Ramsay with a grin, “dinnae talk about yer penis around my son, eh?”
Perched atop his shoulders, wee Relic grinned and batted the top of his father’s head, where his drool was making a small puddle in Ramsay’s hair.
Grinning now, Doughall clasped Kester on his back. “Dinnae fash, Laird MacBain! My Bessetta is verra, verra good at matching animals to their humans. If she says this dog is for ye, then ye’ll just have to trust her.”
“He eats more than some of my men.”
“Maybe yer men dinnae eat enough.” Doughall spotted a familiar head among the bobbing crowd dancing in the center of the hall. “Now, if ye’ll excuse me…”
He didn’t wait for his friends’ acknowledgements but headed toward the crowd.
His daughter was spinning in circles, holding the hands of wee Wren, who was growing fast enough she couldn’t be calledweefor much longer. In the last year, since Wynda had built her leg brace, the lassie had blossomed with self-confidence. She and Bessetta had become fast friends, and now were cousins, he supposed.
Grinning, he scooped up the lassie as she whirled by, and Bess’s momentum spun her into him with anoof. They were both laughing as they tipped their heads back and realized who’d interrupted their spin.
“Da! We’re dancing!”
“Is that what ye’re doing?” he asked with a grin, carefully placing Wren on her feet, and yelling to be heard over the music. “Ye look ready to puke, if ye ask me.”
“Nay!” declared Wren cheekily. “We havenae eaten enough sweets for that.” She grabbed Bessetta’s hand. “Let’s fix that!”
Laughing, the two lassies ran off, and it made Doughall’s heart swell to see his daughter acting like a little girl again.
When he looked up, he met the gazes of Pherson and Wynda who were dancing close, both of them keeping an eye on their daughter, and grinned.
He started when a pair of arms snaked around his waist, but quickly relaxed. He’d recognize Coira’s hold anywhere.
