Page 61 of The Cruel Highlander's Bride
“What’s so entertainin’?” he asked, even though his own lips quirked up.
“She played ye so well,” she told him.
“What do ye mean?” Magnus furrowed his brow.
He seemed genuinely confused, which only made Ciara laugh harder. Apparently, all she needed to shed her unease was this Laird.
“She dinnae care about comin’ to the village,” she finally explained through peals of laughter.
“What?”
“She asked for somethin’ she kenned ye would never agree to, and then asked for somethin’ else that she truly wanted.” Magnus sat stunned for a few seconds before Ciara added, “If she came to ye and just asked to go to the cèilidh, what would ye have said?”
“Nay, probably…” he trailed off, and she gave him a pointed look. His eyes widened as he finally understood the game. “That wee trickster!” he exclaimed, looking shocked still.
It was impossible to stop her laughter then. Between Magnus’s righteous shock and Olivia’s acting skills, it was the exact distraction Ciara needed.
“Me own sister, the charlatan.” He shook his head, eliciting another giggle from Ciara.
It was all so light and pleasant—exactly what she needed to chase her dark thoughts.
She could picture so many mornings like this, sitting and flirting with Magnus, Olivia running circles around them, and Elspeth watching them with a soft smile on her face.
The three of them had formed their own family here, despite the circumstances that tried to keep them apart, and it was getting far too easy for Ciara to picture that life as her own.
* * *
Magnus left the dining hall with a smile on his face. With Ciara at his side, it was nearly impossible for it to fade.
Yes, they had the threat to figure out, and their marriage remained somewhere between an arrangement and a real union, and yes, his half-sister was a little snake, but none of that mattered. Especially once he reached out and took Ciara’s hand in his.
It fit just as perfectly as he remembered, and he cursed all the days that had passed since he held it last.
He could still see the lingering amusement on Ciara’s face, but he wouldn’t soon forget the haunted look she had on this morning when he went to her chambers. Her gaze had been blank, as if she were seeing him but not trulyseeinghim.
Even when she’d been taunting him with her moans, some part of him still worried about how he’d found her.
Food and his chaotic sister had definitely lifted her spirits, but he feared if he sent her back on her own, everything that had haunted her this morning would come roaring back.
“What if we took the day off?” he suggested as they walked towards his study.
“Can ye do that?” Ciara asked, teasing him a little.
“I’m the Laird, lass. I can do whatever I want.”
“Of course, I must have forgotten I was with the oh-so-important Laird.”
He laughed, too, the sound still one he was getting used to, but Ciara seemed to bring it out of him.
Pulling her by the hand, he changed direction. He could pour over correspondence and reports tonight, when his wife slept.
“What did ye like to do for merriment before ye came here?”
“Me work in the village. Helpin’ people,” she immediately replied.
Magnus tried to resist rolling his eyes. “I said merriment, lass, nae work.”
“I like to read.” At his expression, she whacked him a little on the arm and asked indignantly, “Well, what doyelike to do for amusement, then?”
