Page 61 of The Laird's Unwanted Wife
A startled noise escaped the older woman, and for a moment, she was uncertain what to do with her arms. But eventually, she wrapped them around Gerald’s frame, a light sniffle escaping her. “Of course, me Laird. I will always be here for ye.”
33
Dinner was quiet that evening, just like it had been every evening before within MacGunn’s keep. Aileen managed somewhat of an appetite each night, having done a great deal of work the two weeks she’d been helping rebuild the territory.
Mollie, meanwhile, continued to barely eat what she was served, not even attempting to hide the fact that she often removed her plate and set it on the floor for Bannock. The deerhound seemed equally unenthused, lifelessly lapping up the food before curling back underneath her mistress’ chair.
Aileen hadn’t said anything against it the first few times. She was certain the sudden change in scenery was difficult for her poor sister, so whatever made Mollie feel better was fine by her. But at this point, it had become almost habitual; a meal would be served, Mollie would take a few bites, then set the plate on the ground. “Ye ken Bannock is fed, aye?”
Mollie shrugged, her elbows propped against the table as her hair hung like a partially drawn curtain over her face.
Aileen frowned, setting her silverware aside as she cleared her throat. “If ye daenae like what the kitchen serves, ye can tell Sarah. She would rather ye eat than starve yerself.”
“I’m nae starvin’ meself,” Mollie mumbled weakly.
A somewhat irritated sigh slipped out from Aileen, and she finally decided enough was enough. “Mollie, what is wrong? Ye havenae been yerself since our arrival.”
“Nor have ye,” Mollie grumbled louder. “But nay one seems to notice.”
“Mollie,” Aileen said sternly. “I daenae appreciate yer tone right now.”
Mollie sat up suddenly, her hands spread across the table as she balled them into fists. “I daenae appreciate being forced out of me home, either! But I didnae get a say, so ye daenae get a say in how I feel!”
“Mollie!” Aileen barely managed to stand as her sister suddenly darted out of the dining hall, Bannock in hot pursuit behind her. She followed after, excusing herself to passing servants and kinsfolk, before a loud slamming of a door caught her attention. “Mollie Anne Hughes, ye willnae slam doors like that!” Aileen quickened her pace, finally arriving in the hall where her sister’sroom lay. She approached her door, not surprised at all to find it locked. “The one time I daenae need a latch to be working! Mollie! Open this door!”
A furious barking came as a response, followed by a threatening snarl from Bannock. Aileen’s blood turned cold at the sound; she’d never heard the deerhound make such a terrible noise before. At least, not one directed so obviously at her.
“Go away!” Mollie yelled. “I daenae want to talk!”
Fury quickly faded into panicked worry as Aileen pressed herself against the door. “Mollie, please. I daenae mean to be snappish with ye.”
More angry barking filled the space between them.
“I just … there’s been so much to do here at the keep, and …” Aileen forced herself to stop, to breathe. Her mind was racing too fast, her emotions becoming far too unraveled. She took a step away from the door, exhaling slowly as the foul mood left her body. “I’m sorry. There isnae any excuse for being cross with ye. It doesnae matter what’s going on with me, Mollie. I just want to help ye feel better.”
Bannock’s barking settled, replaced with a concerned whining. That, too, eventually fell to an uneasy silence, and Aileen wondered if she had truly overstepped. She moved to leave, to give her sister the space she deserved, when Mollie’s quiet voice flittered through the door.
“Ye broke yer promise, Leelee.”
Aileen paused, mind racing to try to figure out what exactly Mollie meant. “I’m … I daenae understand. Explain it to me, love. I promise I’m listening, now.”
Another beat passed between them. Then, the door gently clicked, swinging open just enough for Mollie’s tear-stained face to poke through the cracks.
“Oh, Mollie,” Aileen immediately fell to her knees, gathering her sister into her arms as she came scrambling forward. She gave her sister a moment to cry, gently stroking her hair and holding her tightly. Bannock came slinking out next, gently licking Mollie’s arm before curling up behind Aileen.
Finally, Mollie’s breathing began to steady. She pulled her face out from Aileen’s chest, furiously wiping her face with the back of her hand. “Ye said we wouldnae move anymore. No more moving castles! Ye said that, Leelee.”
The promise rang with faint familiarity. Guilt crept into Aileen’s throat, and she swallowed past the growing, sour lump.
“I miss Gerald,” Mollie sniffed. “I wanted to see the snowdrops with him and learn how to throw sticks like he does. I want to write letters with him, play in the snow, and have dinner athistable. With him on one side, and ye on the other.”
Gods, but Aileen’s heart was breaking. How was she supposed to explain what happened to Mollie? How could she tell her that the man she idolized so much—the first man she referred to as her father—wanted nothing to do with his wife? Aileen had promised to do better for herself, but how could she possibly do such a thing if it was at Mollie’s expense?
She would have to learn. Learn to stand at a distance, learn to simply view her marriage as her duty to the Highlands. See Gerald as nothing more than a protector, as financial stability; he was nothing more than Mollie’s pathway to a better life. Aileen knew she could do it. After all, what was one more sacrifice in her life?
“Sounds like we should pack to leave first thing in the mornin’, then.”
Aileen gasped, stumbling to her feet as she found Gerald standing directly behind her. He looked exhausted, as if he’d been riding across the Highlands nonstop. Mollie let out a similar gasp, one tinged with excitement as she threw herself into her husband’s arms.
