Page 6 of The Highlander's Fake Wife
“She’s just protective, is all,” Arthur explained. “Bit like me second maither while I’m out huntin’.”
Olivia chuckled lightly, pressing both hands against the deerhound’s face and giving her a good rubbing. “Aye, is that right? Ye teachin’ him manners then, Maesie?”
The deerhound let out a throaty groan, clearly enjoying the extra attention.
“‘Maesie, though?” Olivia asked. “I mean, I suppose she looks a touch like a pearl, but where…?”
“Hard not to think about to ocean when yer livin’ right next to it,” Arthur said.
Olivia’s eyes widened. “Nay; ye really live ‘side the sea?”
Arthur nodded, amused at how excited his selkie had suddenly become. “I’ll take ye on a personal tour when we get there.”
Olivia nodded absentmindedly, still stroking Maesie as she crooned gently towards the deerhound. “Aye, I imagine it must be spectacular to look at ‘round this time o’…” She blinked, attention snapping towards Arthur as her expression fell blank. “Wait; what did ye say about, ‘getting there’?”
“That I’d give ye the tour,” Arthur explained once more. “Probably take us a day or two on horseback, though we might stop fer yer sake. Wish I had a buck to bring back, but suppose it all worked out for to best, given yer ridin’ on the spot where I’d put–”
“Stop, stop!” Olivia shot to her feet, Maesie scampering out of the way with a surprised yelp. “I–I didnae say I’d go travelin’ with ye!”
“Yer options are fairly scarce, selkie,” Arthur pointed out. “An’ last I checked, yer were awful quick to throw yer own life away.”
Her face visibly paled. “B-but, I–!””
“Dinnae make excuses,” Arthur insisted, tossing the hare’s carcass into the shadows as Maesie chased after it. “Ye forfeited it after all ye made me do to keep ye goin’, tonight. It’s mine now, lass, and if that dinnae please ye,” a dangerous smirk crossed Arthur’s face. “Yer welcome to disagree.”
4
Olivia, in fact, did not wish to disagree with the laird of clan MacDonnell. Though kindness had occasionally shown through his intimidating demeanor, she was still wary of leaving her safety to any more chances.
So, without another word, the decision had been made, and Olivia went to sleep that night beneath the cloak of kin’s sworn enemy, his single eye staring at her, seemingly unblinking, all throughout the night. Her dreams fluctuated between burning light and icy darkness, the kind that threatened to drag her down and swallow her whole. But morning eventually arrived, and it arrived by a wet tongue lapping against her cheek.
“Heel, Maesie!” Laird MacDonnell snapped.
The deerhound gave Olivia one more quick lick before hurrying to her master’s side, leaving her alone to wipe her face and rouse herself. Their makeshift camp had been cleared of their traces,nothing but scattered ash and the bloody bones of hares to indicate their presence.
The laird shifted his gear against his shoulder, giving Maesie a pat on the head before holding a folded bundle of clothing outward. With a gentle sigh, Olivia rose from her sleeping spot and accepted her now-dried garments, though she hesitated to shrug her makeshift blankets from her partially-bare body.
“I’ll scout ahead,” the laird remarked. “Make sure none o’yer clansfolk found us.”
“N-Nothing happened last night, then?” Olivia dared to ask.
Laird MacDonnell shifted into the brush, his loyal deerhound close at his heels. “Nothing worth mentioning,” he replied over his shoulder before vanishing into the woods.
Olivia’s brow furrowed; the reply hadn’t been as reassuring as the laird seemed to think. Still, there weren’t any obvious signs on her body that he’d…tried anything last night, and whatever ache lingered in her muscles had simply been from nearly a day’s worth of running. She glanced behind her shoulder, the flicker of sunlight against the tarn’s surface catching through the trees.
“Suppose…I hardly have any other options right now,” Olivia groaned. She moved to slip her arms through her vest, her mother’s instruction ringing between her ears.
“The convent, huh?” Olivia quickly laced her vest and fixed her arisaid, gathering the laird’s cloak into her arms with a shiver. She hated to admit it, but it had been excellent insulation against the cold. With her arisaid’s new trim, it wasn’t quite as effective at keeping the chill at bay, anymore. Though, that also might be due to a lack of shoes on her part.
“Seems the way is clear, selkie.” Laird MacDonnell appeared moments later, Maesie bounding excitedly around him in quick circles.
“A-Aye.” She held his cloak outward, only to be met with a wave of his hand. “It’s yer’s, though. And it’ll get awfully cold.”
“All the more reason ye should hold onto it. And as fer yer lack of footwear,” Laird MacDonnell produced a pair of hunting boots seemingly from nowhere. “They’re big, but I figure ye’d prefer yer feet in one piece once we arrive at the keep .”
Once more, Olivia’s brow furrowed. Still, the laird wasn’t wrong, and she quickly wrapped the cloak around her once more, accepting the boots with quiet thanks.
Their journey to the coast had, indeed, taken well over three days. Olivia did her best to keep pace with Laird MacDonnell, though it was difficult to ride on horseback for such a long period of time. Then there were her boots; she’d wrapped a bit of string around the cuff, which at the very least, stopped them from falling off her ankles completely. But the shoeshad obviously been made to fit MacDonnell, not her, and they occasionally hung loosely against the horse’s side as it galloped across the land.
