Page 65 of The Highlander's Fake Wife
All three lairds turned to Arthur, each surprised at how cold his demeanor had turned. He inhaled deeply, allowing his rage to blow out with his next breath. “I stand by me decision; Olivia’s clan willnae be subjected to our wrath. I shall continue my plans to marry her, and only then, if her kin daenae join her at our side, will we discuss the possibility o’violence.” His eye swiveled to Marcus, storing away the memory of a slight twitch over the young man’s brow.
“Duncan, if ye dinnae mind,” Arthur continued, attention back on the laird of Marsden. “I think it safest to stay here fer the wedding. If ye would be so charitable as to host us once more,”
“Dinnae even speak another word about it,” Duncan reassured. “I’ll ensure Alison helps with preparations."
“Hector,” Arthur turned to Laird McKimmon next, still scowling darkly in his chair. “I need yer men to bring me family safely to Marsden Keep. Escort them alongside me own warriors from me keep; I have to stay here with Olivia.”
Some of Hector’s sour mood seemed to fade away at the prospect of such a mission. “I already told ye, Arthur. Me men are yers to use; just say the word, and we’ll ride out immediately.”
Arthur’s attention then fixated on Marcus, who seemed to straighten quickly in his chair. “Marcus, ye mentioned ye were closest to the MacCulloh’s keep?”
“Aye, m’laird.”
“Then ensure yer channels remain open,” Arthur instructed. “See if yer kin overhear any future plans o’the MacCullohs. The last thing I need is them is growing bold while I’m away from MacDonnell keep. Nor can I bear the responsibility of Marsden’s being attacked.”
Marcus nodded curtly.
“We’ll reconvene on the day before me wedding. Fer now,” Arthur raised a hand, the other lairds following suit. “Move out.”
Olivia couldn’t remember when she fell asleep. Her dreams were vague, terrifying visages of blood and death, of familiar faces cut down by the man she was falling in love with. Bhaltair grabbed her by the shoulders, spat venomous words of betrayal and hatred.
Should have killed her when I had the chance…
She woke in a cold sweat, the sunlight barely peeking through the keep’s window. Olivia scoured her mind, trying to remember where exactly they ended up staying. Had they made it hometo MacDonnell’s territory? Was she still at Marsden? Briefly the thought occurred that, perhaps, the MacCullohs had managed to capture her and bring her back, but this room’s interior wasn’t quite right.
A concerned whine came from beside her bed, and Maesie suddenly hopped up. She crawled across the quilts and snuggled up to Olivia’s side, head nuzzling the crook of her neck as the deerhound licked her face. “M-Maesie…” Olivia wrapped her arms around the hound’s neck, giving her a hug as she forced a breath into her lungs. As she willed herself to try and calm herself.
“It’s Marsden,” Olivia reassured herself, stroking Maesie’s fur for comfort. “Ye’re back at Marsden…”
Memories began to flitter back, and Olivia exhaled slowly, parsing through the events bit by bit. She had been attacked by her people, but Arthur had protected her. They had rode back to Marsden, herself wrapped in her arisaid, and Arthur had protected her. She remembered being taken to her guest bed, reassured that nothing would get to her, sitting amidst the ladies and Alison as they sewed, the had tea, and discussed lighter topics amidst themselves. All while Arthur ensured her further protection.
A light knock rapped against her door, and Olivia’s heart fluttered at the voice that followed. “Ye awake in there, selkie?”
She nodded, though realized quickly that Arthur couldn’t see. “A-Aye, I am.”
A pause. “Would…ye like me company?”
Olivia absolutely did. “Please, come in, Arthur.”
The door creaked open, Arthur slipping through before closing it behind him. He looked well-worn, heavy bags underneath his eyes from what had to be a long, sleepless night for him. He crossed the room and joined Olivia at her bedside, seemingly desperate to get as close as he could to her. She offered a hand, and Arthur quickly took it, kissing her knuckles gently as he murmured something lovely under his breath.
“I’m…alright,” Olivia reassured, flushing slightly at the touch of his lips against her skin.
Maesie yipped in agreement, catching Arthur’s face with her tongue as well.
“Ye’re alright this time,” Arthur said, giving Maesie a gentle shove away from him. “And that’s nay acceptable to me.”
Maesie let out a disgruntled snort, rounding around Olivia and laying down behind her, head propped against her paws. Just like when Olivia had first met her.
“We’ve had too many close calls,” Arthur continued. “And that’s while ye’ve been actin’ as me betrothed. I cannae imagine–if ye were on yer own, with yer maither…” he visibly bit his lip, pressing the back of Olivia’s hand against his forehead.
“I wasnae, Arthur,” Olivia reassured. “Ye were there.”
“This time, I was.” Arthur shook his head, expression far more stern than before. “Olivia, I’m sorry, but I cannae sit by and willingly let ye live yer life in peril. Our plans have to change.”
Change?
“We’re getting married, selkie. And it willnae be a ruse anymore; ye will properly become Lady MacDonnell.”
