Page 56 of The Highlander's Fake Wife
All Olivia could manage was a nod. She really, truly did.
As they drew closer to their table, a noticeably expecting woman with bright, strawberry hair sat at one of the chairs. She seemed to be nursing a mug of chilled water, and even sat down, Olivia was aware of the woman’s unusual height. But the warm smile she offered immediately put Olivia at ease; she appeared just as motherly as Alison had when they’d first met. “You must beLaird MacDonnell’s betrothed.” The woman offered the chair beside her, and Olivia quickly took a seat.
“Aye! I told ye she were real, Katie,” Alison teased.
Katie rolled her eyes, taking a sip from her cup as Olivia found herself unable to stop staring. In response, Katie’s hand settled gently against her stomach, taking on a playfully teasing tone. “Ye eager to have yer own soon, Olivia?”
“I-I’m sorry for staring,” Olivia began to apologize, but Alison’s laughter immediately lightened the mood.
“Nay worry, hen! Katie did the same to me before Forrester was born.” She leaned across the table, brow raised and giggling mischievously. “Ye should’ve seen her just now wit Arthur, though–I daenae think their wedding can come soon enough.”
“Och, Alison!” Katie chided lightly. “I’m terribly sorry fer me friend, Olivia. And to think, ye had to endure this the last few days on yer own?”
Olivia managed a weak giggle. “I-I’ve been enjoying my time here quite a lot, actually. Ye’ve been a wonderful hostess, yer ladyship.”
“Och, now, that’s gonna get awfully confusing,” Alison teased. “When it’s just us hens, ye can call us by name.”
“Ah, but speaking of names,” Katie gushed. “I think I finally managed to convince Hector of a pair at last.” She set a hand on her belly, almost sounding wistful as she spoke next. “Johnson fer a boy, Jean fer a girl. And to think, they’ll have so many children to grow up with. Not that I daenae want more,” she emphasized. “But, it’s nice to think I can visit me allies instead o’worrying about enemies.”
“I told Duncan the same thing!” Alison beamed, taking Olivia’s hand and squeezing it lightly. “And soon, ye’ll be joining us fer all sorts o’ get togethers with our wee bairns.”
A terrible longing hollowed its way into Olivia’s chest. “A-Aye…that’ll be lovely.”
“Oh, but ye have to tell us how ye managed to catch Arthur’s heart like ye have,” Katie insisted.
“Yes, absolutely!” Alison agreed. “I never seen him so infatuated in me life!”
Olivia found herself backed into a corner once more. But, instead of a tale full of lies, she realized she could simply tell the story of how she truly began to fall for the Laird MacDonnell.
And so, Olivia started from the beginning of it all.
Hector frowned, taking another swig from his mug before speaking up. “Arthur, ye’re making this far harder than it needs to be. Just kill the remainder o’clan MacCulloh an’ be done wit it. Hell, I’ll give ye a few o’me own warriors, just to get the job done quicker.”
A collective groan rang out from the other lairds, though the loudest came from Duncan. “Laird MacDonnell made it clear that wasnae an option.”
“Lard MacDonnell said it was the least desirable,” Hector pointed out gruffly. “But it’s the most effect o’them all. Clean-cut and decisive; ye willnae have to worry fer yer betrothed’s safety if there isnae any disloyal left.”
Arthur gripped his own mug tightly, head feeling as if someone had spun it around a few dozen times. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t expected diverse opinions–it’s why he called the meeting in the first place–but he’d forgotten how…loudly opinionated the other lairds could be. Duncan and Hector’s, especially if said opinions conflicted.
“The Younger o’MacCulloh willnae appreciate the extermination of her kin,” Duncan pointed out. “They are to be married, after all.”
“She would prefer the safety over her betrayers than herself?” Hector asked.
“She was once their protector, Hector,” Arthur interjected, fighting to keep his temper out of his tone. “And as a laird, we arenay unfamiliar wit the concept o’laying down our lives fer our kin.”
“Aye, butshewasnae a laird,” Hector argued. “Her faither was, and he did a poor job, what wit the mess he left behind fer his daughter to figure out!”
“’Twas not his fault he was killed in battle,” Marcus stated plainly.
All eyes briefly flickered to Arthur, who bit his tongue to avoid saying something he’d regret.
“But it is his fault fer having no control o’his clan,” Hector said, reclaiming the conversation. And now they’re a danger to everyone around them! Bloodthirsty, unorganized, ungrateful eejits.”
Once more, Duncan tried to play devil’s advocate. “They’re scared,”
“They’restupid,” Hector snapped. “And stupidity breeds a dangerous sort o’violence.” The two lairds glared at each other from across the table, and Arthur wondered if he was going to be responsible for re-igniting the conflict between the two clans.
Then, Marcus spoke up, his tone quiet and words carefully chosen. “Murder isnae a good foundation to a new partnership. I think we all can agree on that, m’lairds. And I think we all ken that uniting the clans through this marriage is the morepreferable choice; the highlands have been soaked in blood, and it’s time we took steps to remedy that.”
