Page 28 of A Wife for the Highland Villain (Breaking the Highland Rules #3)

Lily opened the door to the guest room and led Brigid inside. The room was airy, with a tall window that let in the golden rays of the late sun.

Brigid wasted no time as Lily closed the door gently behind her. She ran across the rug, collapsed onto the bed, and let out a long sigh.

“Good Lord,” she groaned, stretching her arms wide. “Ye have nay idea just how much I have been waiting for this.”

Lily chuckled as she set Brigid’s bag on the chest at the foot of the bed. “Oh well, I am glad I could provide a soft landing for ye.”

Brigid turned onto her side, propped her head on her hand, and let her eyes sweep the room. “This is a far cry from where ye used to live. Quite the improvement, if I do say so meself.”

Lily raised an eyebrow. “Ye must be careful nae to say that too loudly. If Alasdair hears, it’ll go straight to his head. And believe me, I can hardly stand his smugness as it is.”

Brigid laughed, the sound ringing bright in the air. Lily laughed as well and sank into the only other chair in the room.

After a while, Brigid sat up, her eyes softening. “Did ye ever think this would happen? That he’d come for ye after ten years?”

“Of course nae,” Lily answered without hesitation. Her voice grew quieter and more thoughtful. “I thought he was dead. And when he showed up that day to take me, I wanted to kill him.”

Brigid’s lips twitched. “I never doubted that. Ye always had fire in ye.”

“I nearly managed it too,” Lily said, almost daring a smile. “I stabbed him in the thigh and tried to escape. I would have succeeded if he hadnae caught up to me.”

“Ye didnae.” Brigid’s eyes widened in delight.

“I did,” Lily said, folding her arms. “But then he convinced me that the people here needed help, and that is why I came.”

Brigid arched an eyebrow. “Lord kens he deserves much more than that.”

Lily gave a small huff. “If ye ask him, he’ll spin a different tale, one where he looks noble and selfless. Nay doubt he’ll tell ye he ran after me and would’ve caught me despite the wound in his thigh.”

Brigid smirked. “Still, it’s well, is it nae? And I’ll say this—he’s even more handsome than he was ten years ago.”

Lily made a face, though her ears reddened. “Ye think so?”

“Aye. I never thought the lad would grow into those eyebrows, but somehow he managed it. Miraculous, really.”

Lily let out a laugh. “That much is true. Surprising, but true.” Her voice softened, her mind drifting elsewhere. “He’s covered in scars now. Marks that werenae there before.”

Brigid’s eyes narrowed, but then her lips curled into a teasing grin. “And how do ye ken that, hm? Ye’ve seen his body?”

Heat rushed into Lily’s cheeks. “What? Nay. That is nae what I mean.”

Brigid’s grin widened. “Of course. Whatever ye say, Sister.”

Silence followed for a beat, not heavy but lingering.

Brigid leaned back on her hands. “Well, ye can deny it all ye like, but ye cannae pretend he hasnae grown more handsome.”

Lily exhaled slowly, her shoulders dropping. “Aye. He has changed.”

“Good,” Brigid said with triumph. “Now, was that so hard to admit?”

“Aye,” Lily muttered, pressing her lips together. “Because it doesnae change the truth. I’m still uncertain about staying here.”

Brigid’s head snapped up. “Uncertain? For heaven’s sake, what are ye waiting for?

Look around ye, Lily. This place has everything we could have dreamed of.

The view alone makes me jealous. We never had all of this growing up.

And these people—they care for ye, Sister.

God kens we deserve loving homes after the way everyone treated us when Faither died.

And ye’d be able to help so many more if ye were in a position that allows ye to do so. ”

“‘Tis nae about riches or the view,” Lily said firmly, fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve. “‘Tis about him. Alasdair. What’s to stop him from leaving again? Or worse, sending me away? He’s done it before.”

“That was ten years ago,” Brigid argued.

“Ye were practically bairns. He’s nae the same man now, and it is plain enough to see.

” She reached across the bed, her voice softening.

“I saw the look in his eyes at the table, Lily. That man cares for ye, and he can barely hide it. Ye’re the only one who pretends nae to see. ”

Lily lowered her gaze. “‘Tis easier said than done, and I am only trying to be careful. The last thing Ma told me was nae to let one man’s betrayal define what love should be. And what if I let him in, only for him to betray me again?”

Brigid’s expression hardened, and she leaned forward until their foreheads almost touched. “Then I’ll kill him meself,” she said flatly. “And I’ll feed his guts to the fish.”

Lily’s mouth fell open before she burst into laughter. She clutched her stomach, shaking her head. “God, Brigid. Ye’re joking, but a part of me believes ye’d do it.”

“Of course I would,” Brigid said with a shrug. “He doesnae get to hurt me sister twice and walk away breathing— nay . He doesnae get to hurt Captain Blackwood’s daughter twice, nae while I’m here.”

Lily wiped her eyes, still laughing, though her chest tightened with something close to relief. “Ye’re mad.”

“Mad enough to defend ye,” Brigid shot back with a grin. “And I’d wager Conall is saying something similar to him at this very moment.”

Lily’s smile softened, and she imagined Conall’s steady voice and firm demeanor. Like Alasdair, his sister’s husband was also a no-nonsense man. If anyone could talk sense into Alasdair, it would be him.

Brigid reached out, taking Lily’s hand in her own. “Ye’ve carried enough alone, Lily. Let someone care for ye properly this time.”

Lily held on tighter than she meant to, her throat clogged with words that wouldn’t come out, no matter how hard she tried.

Alasdair pushed open the door to his study and motioned toward the chair opposite his desk. “Please, have a seat, Laird MacKane,” he said.

Conall walked to the chair, a small smile on his lips, and lowered himself into the seat.

“Valerie’s husband, Laird MacFinn, sends his regards,” he began. “He wished he could come and speak with ye himself, but I decided I’d do it instead.”

Alasdair tilted his head, frowning. “Speak with me? About what?”

Conall laughed, the sound a deep rumble in his chest. “Daenae worry. It is only a formality.”

“Formality?” Alasdair asked, his eyes narrowed.

Conall was intimidating, that much he could say. He saw a lot of himself in him, and that fact alone made him even more attentive to whatever the man had to say.

Conall cleared his throat before continuing. “Ye see, when ye marry one of the Blackwood sisters, ye join a rather exclusive group of men. I am sure ye ken what I mean.”

Alasdair let out a laugh of his own, short but genuine. “Oh, do I nae. Lily is quite the handful if ever there was one.”

“So is Brigid,” Conall said without hesitation.

His smile softened, and a reminiscent silence stretched between them for a beat.

Alasdair eventually broke it with a quiet admission. “I wouldnae trade her for anything else, though. I cannae imagine any day without her in me life.”

Conall nodded once. “Good. That makes our next conversation easier.”

Alasdair sat and leaned back in his chair, a hint of suspicion crossing his face. “And what conversation is that?”

“The first matter is obvious,” Conall said. “Lily never mentioned she had a husband. How she managed to keep ye hidden all these years is still a mystery.”

Alasdair let out a low laugh. “Well, I didnae exactly make it easy for her either. Something… came up after our wedding, and I had to leave.”

Conall’s eyes narrowed, his tone sharp. “Ye make it sound as though ye stumbled on a business venture at the far end of the earth.”

“Far from it,” Alasdair said firmly. “I cared for Lily. Always. What pulled me away was a matter of life and death, and I couldnae shirk me duty. I also couldnae take her with me. She would never have been safe with me if I had done so.”

“I understand.” Conall nodded.

“Perhaps if it happened now, I could have handled it a bit more maturely than I did ten years ago,” Alasdair added.

Conall studied him for a long moment. “And have ye told her any of this?”

Alasdair shook his head. “Nae yet. I am only beginning to warm up to the idea. But I intend to do that after the cèilidh.”

“Then ye had best get on with it,” Conall said. “The sooner, the better. It might even ease some of her resentment.”

Alasdair nodded slowly. “Believe me, I am working on that too.”

Conall leaned back, his expression unreadable. “Still, ye came back for her because of the alliance, did ye nae?”

Alasdair rose, crossed to the sideboard, and poured whisky into two cups.

He handed one to Conall before responding.

“Her healing skills were needed here. And she has proven herself beyond any doubt. More than twenty men have gone home whole thanks to her. I truly cannae imagine what state the clan would be in if she hadnae come here.” He also couldn’t imagine what state he would be in if she hadn’t come, but he kept that last part to himself.

Conall swirled the cup in his hand, nodding. “I heard as much on our way here. I also heard that she raised a dead man from the grave, after he’d already been buried for days. Of course, I assume there is nay substance to those words?”

Alasdair exhaled hard through his nose. “Aye, those rumors keep twisting into something more dire with every telling.”

“That is what I thought,” Conall muttered. “The Blackwood sisters may be many things, but they are most certainly nae witches.”

Alasdair allowed a wry smile. “Nae witches. Though I’d say they bewitched us well enough in their own way.”

Conall gave a short laugh. “That they did.”

Another moment of silence passed between them, and Alasdair took the opportunity to take a sip from his cup.

Conall cleared his throat. “Still, ye must find a way to quell those rumors. If left unchecked, they can become dangerous.”

“I intend to,” Alasdair said. “The cèilidh will be the time for it.”

“Good,” Conall answered. He raised his cup, drank deeply, and then set it down. “Now, tell me where the alliance part comes in.”

Alasdair’s eyes darkened. “That was the council’s doing. They saw the chance to make the clan stronger and went for it.”

“And ye? What do ye think?”

Alasdair shrugged. “I never cared for their scheming, to be honest.”

“Well,” Conall drawled, “she doesnae seem to believe that.”

“I will make her see,” Alasdair said, his voice edged with determination. “One way or another.”

Conall gave a sharp nod. “Good. Because ye must understand something, Alasdair. Laird MacFinn and I intend to hold to this alliance. We Blackwood husbands must stand together. But that doesnae shield ye from what happens if ye fail Lily again. If ye hurt her—if ye let her down a second time—we willnae hesitate to bring war to yer gates.”

Alasdair’s jaw tightened. “I wouldnae expect anything less.”

“Then we are in agreement?” Conall asked, his hand outstretched.

“That we are,” Alasdair replied, clasping it firmly.

For a moment, both men held the grip, a look of complete understanding passing between them. Then, Alasdair poured another measure into his cup and lifted the flask toward Conall.

Conall raised a palm. “Nay, I’ll wait. Brigid would skin me if I showed up to supper half-drunk.”

Alasdair smirked. “The sacrifices we make.”

“Aye,” Conall said with a wry grin. “Love is quite the compromise, is it nae?”

Love? That couldn’t be what it was, but Alasdair smiled all the same.