“I am nay his sister or daughter,” Yvaine said with a slight shake of her head before moving to Laird O’Neil’s side. “And we can continue our discussion in private while he chaperones from over here.”
“Certainly, me lady.” Laird O’Neil offered her his arm, and she hooked hers in it, ignoring Arran’s scowl as they walked away.
She was aware of him trailing behind her the rest of the time, but she tried to enjoy her conversation with Laird O’Neil without minding him.
“Tell me about yer late wife,” she said to him, and he did not hesitate to talk about her.
“She was the bonniest woman I had ever seen,” Laird O’Neil said with a pleasant smile to her. “Second bonnie to ye of course, me lady.”
Yvaine tipped her head back and laughed. “Ye flatter me, me laird. I fear I might fall for yer charms before the games even begin.”
“I would love that very much.”
Yvaine noticed Arran pacing now. His head stayed bowed, and his hands propped on his hips. He looked like he was contemplating something, and she could not go to him because she had to speak with Laird O’Neil.
She kept looking back at him though, and soon, Laird O’Neil touched her shoulder lightly. “Do ye need a moment? It seems I have bored ye with all this talk about me late wife.”
“Nay, of course nay,” she answered with an apologetic smile. “I mean I just…I might need a moment.”
When she looked back Arran again and found him standing with his back to her, her heart melted. “I shall need a moment to speak with Laird MacGregor.”
Laird O’Neil nodded then bowed and walked away from her. Yvaine could not understand why she cared about going to him in that moment, but she did.
She tapped his shoulder to gain his attention, and he spun around to look at her almost immediately.
“Are ye all right?” she asked when his eyes landed on hers.
Arran blinked then he brushed his fingers through his hair and sleeked it away from his face. “Where is Laird O’Neil?”
“I have dismissed him,” she answered. “I willnae be receivin’ any more guests. There are ten lairds already for the competition. I think that is more than enough of a choice to pick from.”
“Ye should take in more competitors. It is best to have a large number to choose from.”
“That will only make the choice harder. What if I like more than one? How do I choose?”
“Ye dinnae need to like them. Ye need to choose the best man. The kindest, strongest, and wealthiest, who can protect, care, and provide for ye.”
He did not meet her eyes as he spoke, and Yvaine scoffed. “It is always about the wealthiest to ye then? The heavens forbid that I love the man I chose?”
When he looked at her, she backed away from him. “What I meant was ye need logic to choose a husband, Yvaine.”
“I dinnae need logic. I need me heart and me instincts. And what would ye ken about choosin’? Ye arenae married, and ye prefer to spend yer nights in pubs or inns outside of the castle. Ye dinnae get to tell me what to do or choose.”
His steely jawline gave away his defiance, and he placed one hand on his sword’s head then cleared his throat. “We train tonight. I expect to see ye at the courtyard by dusk.”
Arran bowed and stormed away from her without another word, leaving Yvaine with a sinking knot in the pit of her stomach.
She spent the rest of her day with the ladies in the nursery. Amelia played with her son, Arthur, and kissed his forehead while he giggled.
“He infuriates me,” Yvaine lamented to herself as she picked up her mother’s embroidery and sat to continue the work.
“Who does, dear?” Elspeth asked as she cradled Lily’s baby son in her arms.
“Arran,” Yvaine answered. “He interrupts me every conversation with the lairds and acts like he is the one in charge of me. He doesnae want to compete for me hand, so why is he intent on ruinin’ me chances with the lairds?”
Everyone else stayed quiet as she complained and focused intently on her embroidery. Yvaine gasped when she poked her finger with the needle. She licked the spot and dropped the cloth on her lap.
“Why are ye all lookin’ at me like that?” she asked when she noticed they all stared at her with amused smiles.