Page 28 of A Bride for the Icy Highlander (The Highland’s Lawson Sisters #3)

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

A bigail stirred slowly from her nap, the warmth of Kian’s body beside hers steady and strong.

He had drifted in and out of sleep all day, and she’d remained curled up against him, listening to the sound of his breathing and the occasional murmur of dreams.

Now, the light outside the window was fading, and the scent of roasting meat drifted in from the lower halls. Her heart thudded with anticipation; tonight, she would tell her family.

What will they say?

She eased herself off the bed, careful not to wake him. He looked peaceful, and the bruises on his skin were already fading. He’d be all right. She had to believe that.

Her footsteps echoed softly as she made her way to the family dining room. Laughter drifted from inside, along with the sound of her family sharing supper. It would not have been right for them to eat in the Great Hall with the rest of the clan without the Laird to properly receive them.

Her stomach twisted as she stood outside the door, but she squared her shoulders and stepped into the room.

Freya rose at once, her eyes wide with concern. “Abigail. How is he?”

“He woke up. He’s still weak, but Helena says he’s mendin’ well.”

Freya let out a sigh of relief and touched her chest. “Thank God. I’ve been prayin’ for him.”

Abigail nodded, glancing around the table. Cody, Michael, and Amara were seated, trenchers already half-emptied and mugs of ale in hand. She moved to an empty seat beside Freya, tucked her skirt beneath her, and sat down.

No one said anything more for a moment, and the clinking of forks and chewing resumed. Abigail took a small bite of bread, her heart hammering with nerves. After a moment, she cleared her throat.

“I have news.”

Michael looked up, his eyebrows raised. Freya’s hand stilled over her goblet.

“The Laird proposed, and I’ve accepted. We’re to be wed.”

The table went still.

Cody stood up so quickly that his chair scraped hard across the stone floor. “Ye’ve done what?”

Michael rose beside him, glaring at her. “Are ye mad, lass? That man took ye from us! Dragged ye from yer home and family!”

Abigail raised her chin, bracing herself. “I remember what happened. But I also ken the reason behind it. Ye’ve only seen one side?—”

“There’s only one side to abduction!” Cody shouted, slamming his hand on the table. “He could’ve ruined ye, Abby. And now ye say ye’ll marry him like it’s naught?”

“I love him,” Abigail declared, her voice firm. “I didnae expect to, but I do. And he loves me. He’s risked his life to save me twice now. He was nearly killed defendin’ me!”

“Defendin’ ye from what he started!” Michael growled. “He caused this chaos, made us worry, and now ye act as though it’s a love match!”

Freya placed a calming hand on his arm, her expression torn. “Let her speak, both of ye.”

But Cody wasn’t finished. “He’s nae one of us, Abby! Did ye forget?”

Abigail stood up slowly, the chair scraping back behind her. “Aye, I remember it all. I remember bein’ taken, I remember bein’ terrified. But I also remember how he treated me afterward—with dignity and care. He never laid a hand on me.”

Michael scoffed. “Because he wanted ye to agree to his plans. Manipulation, that’s what it was.”

“Nay,” she insisted. “He gave me a choice. I had many chances to run, but I stayed. Because I saw the man behind the anger. A man who’s carryin’ pain, loss, and duty heavier than any of us ken.”

Cody paced, raking a hand through his hair. “And ye think ye can fix that by marryin’ him?”

“I’m nae tryin’ to fix him,” Abigail corrected, her eyes flashing. “I want to build somethin’ new with him. If ye cannae understand that, then I pity ye.”

Freya reached out and touched her sleeve gently. “Do ye truly love him?”

Abigail’s gaze softened. “With every beat of me heart.”

Michael sat back down slowly, shaking his head. “It’ll never be simple, Abby. Ye ken that, aye? Our family… We’ll struggle with this.”

“Aye,” she said quietly. “I ken it well. That’s why I need yer blessing. I will fight for him regardless, but I hope I willnae have to fight ye too.”

Silence ensued again, heavier than before.

Freya looked between them. “We cannae change what was done, but we can choose how we move forward. If she loves him, and he’s proven himself… then maybe we need to stop lookin’ backward.”

Michael’s lips pressed together into a hard line. “I’ll nae give me full blessing yet. But I willnae stop ye.”

Abigail exhaled, part relief, part pain. “That’s all I ask, I suppose.”

Cody folded his arms, still scowling. “He hurts ye, even once, and I’ll bury him six feet under.”

“I’d expect nothin’ less,” Abigail said.

Her heart ached from the tension, but at least the truth was out.

She turned to Amara, her eyes pleading. “And ye? Will ye stand with me?”

Amara nodded slowly. “Aye. I’ll stand with ye. I ken the heart makes us do things we wouldnae otherwise. I ken ye love him, and I believe ye when ye say he loves ye. He lies on a bed, fightin’ for his life, ‘cause he risked it to save ye. That is love.”

Abigail hugged her. “Thank ye, Amara,” she whispered.

After she left the room, she headed into her bedchamber and shut the door behind her with a soft click.

It looked just as she had left it—her shawl was draped over the chair, and the blanket on her bed was slightly rumpled.

She had not changed since the ordeal with Peyton, not wanting to leave Kian’s side. Now, she peeled off her muddy clothes, one layer at a time, her fingers aching from fatigue and cold.

Her chemise clung to her skin, and she winced at the scratches across her arms and sides. She filled the basin with fresh water from the pitcher and splashed it onto her face and arms. The cold shocked her awake, and for a moment, she simply stood there, breathing.

Her hair was a wild, tangled mess. She detangled it with her fingers and braided it loosely down her back. Her hands were steady now, but her thoughts raced.

What will happen tomorrow? Of the days after?

She slipped on a fresh gown, woolen and warmer than the one she’d shed.

A knock startled her out of her thoughts, light but firm. She padded over to the door and opened it to find Helena standing there, bearing a tray of food.

“I brought ye somethin’,” Helena said gently, her tone motherly. “I ken ye’ve nae had a proper meal in days. Will ye eat with me?”

Abigail hesitated, her gaze flicking down the hallway. “But Kian… who’s watchin’ him?” she asked, her heart thudding in her chest.

Helena smiled softly. “Freya. Yer sister’s with him now.”

“Freya?”

“Aye, she said she’d watch over her sister’s love herself.” Her eyes twinkled.

Abigail’s shoulders sagged with relief at the thought that her sister had accepted Kian enough to look after him.

“Then I will eat with ye,” she replied, stepping aside to let Helena in.

Helena set the tray down on the small table by the fire and uncovered the dishes with a proud smile. “Nothin’ fancy, but it’ll warm ye up.”

There was a steaming bowl of thick lamb stew, filled with turnips, barley, and carrots. A small bannock sat beside it, golden and crisp on the edges, along with a wedge of sharp cheese and a mug of spiced cider.

Abigail’s stomach growled loudly, surprising them both. She gave a sheepish laugh. “I suppose I’m hungrier than I thought.”

“Eat, lass,” Helena urged, settling into the chair opposite. “Ye look like a ghost.”

Abigail took a spoonful of stew and closed her eyes as the heat spread through her chest. The broth was rich and peppered, the lamb so tender it melted on her tongue.

She hadn’t realized how long it had been since her last meal; every bite felt like it was waking something inside her. She tore off a piece of bread and dipped it into the stew, savoring the simple, hearty fare.

Helena watched her with quiet satisfaction, sipping on her cider. “Ye were brave out there,” she said softly. “Nae only for what ye did for Kian, but also for choosin’ to come back to the castle and get him help after what he’d done to ye.”

Abigail swallowed, her throat tight. “I couldnae leave him, nae after everything we’ve been through. I love him, Helena, even though it goes against reason.”

“Aye, but love often does,” Helena replied. “Ye’re nay fool. Ye see him clearly, and ye still chose him. That’s nay small thing.”

Abigail set her spoon down and leaned back in her chair, the warmth from the fire seeping into her limbs. “Me family… they’re furious. They think I’ve lost me senses.”

“They’re scared. And angry,” Helena acknowledged. “They see him as the villain. It’s hard for them to understand he’s also the hero.”

Abigail smiled faintly, though her heart ached. “I dinnae expect them to understand. But it still hurts to be looked at like I’ve betrayed them.”

Helena reached across the table and took her hand. “Give it time. Their love for ye runs deep, and so does yer love for him. They’ll come to see what ye see… in time.”

Abigail nodded, her eyes falling to the near-empty bowl in front of her. She felt full now, in more ways than one, her stomach satisfied, her heart steady. It had been days of fussing and fretting. Now, for the first time, she sat still.

Helena rose to her feet and began to gather the empty dishes. “Ye’ll need strength for what’s ahead.”

“Aye,” Abigail said, rising as well. “Thank ye, Helena. For everything.”

Helena nodded and smiled, her eyes warm. “Go to him when ye’re ready. He’ll be needin’ ye.”

Abigail closed the door behind Helena and stood there for a moment.

After resting for a while in her room, she slipped quietly into the healer’s chamber, her steps soft against the stone floor.

Freya sat beside Kian. She looked up when Abigail entered, offering a small smile.

“He’s sleepin’ peacefully now,” she whispered.

Abigail stepped closer, her gaze dropping to Kian. His brow was smooth, his breathing steady. “Thank ye, Freya, for stayin’ with him.”

Freya waved her hand gently. “Och, he needed to be monitored, and I figured ye deserve a moment to yerself. Ye looked ready to keel over at supper.”

“I was,” Abigail admitted, folding her arms over her middle. “I didnae realize how tired I was until I sat still.”

Freya studied her a moment, then her voice softened. “That’s because ye love him. And when ye love someone deeply, ye push exhaustion aside to be strong for them.”

Abigail hesitated, then gave a slow nod. “Aye… that is true.”

“I see it in yer eyes every time ye look at him.”

Abigail let out a breath and moved to sit in the chair beside her. “It’s just… I wish it had happened differently. I wish I could’ve told ye all without the fight at supper.”

Freya chuckled lightly. “Och, Michael will come around. Ye ken how protective he’s always been. He nearly choked on his stew when ye said ye accepted McKenna’s proposal.”

Abigail chuckled under her breath. “I noticed.”

Freya reached over and squeezed her hand. “Give him time. He’ll see what I see—ye’re happier now than ye’ve been in years.”

Abigail smiled, her eyes on Kian. “I think I am.”