Page 16 of Marry the Highland Villain (Breaking the Highland Rules #1)

CHAPTER 16

Conall studied the three women in front of him. They stared back at him, their bright gazes sharp as knives and showing no trace of the fear or uncertainty most people carried when meeting Laird MacKane for the first time—or even the second time, for that matter. If looks could be blades these would have been daggers aimed at his heart.

For once in his life, Conall suspected he might have met his match.

The woman Brigid had addressed as Lily appeared to be the oldest. Her hair was a few shades lighter than Brigid’s, an unusual shade that fell somewhere between mahogany and cherry. Her eyes were blue, and her figure, though not as robust as Brigid’s, was well-endowed. Her gaze was calm, assessing, and she carried herself with some of the same air that Emily wore when she was examining a patient. There were also stains and calluses on her fingers that suggested she might be a healer or at least an herbalist.

She cares for hearth and home, for all the cares an’ ills of her kinfolk, I’ll wager. And sister she may be, but she looks as if she has a mother’s care for my betrothed. An’ ten-to-one, she’s just as dangerous as a mother wolf with a cub in regards to Brigid’s safety and well-being.

The lass Brigid had named Valerie had hair the same color as Lily’s and a similar figure, but she had Brigid’s green eyes rather than her eldest sister’s bright blue ones. Her clothing was more colorful, and more like some of the fashions Conall had seen sported by women at the Highland Gatherings he’d attended than her older sister’s plainer garments. She also carried a pouch at her belt that seemed to be full of… something. Tools of trade, perhaps, for she, too, had the look of one skilled with her hands.

And, Conall recalled, the letter had suggested that she had worked with, or voyaged with, her infamous father. Valerie Blackwood was no woman to cross lightly, he suspected. Not if she had learned any lessons at Magnus Blackwood’s knee.

She might dress like a seamstress, but if she rode the seas with Magnus Blackwood, then she likely fights like any one of his crew—an’ carries more sharp objects than I’d want to tangle with. She seems to be the quietest of them all as well, and I ken well that a quiet lad or lass can hold a warrior’s fire under the right circumstances. I’ll wager she’s one of those ’tis nae wise to push too much.

The last of the three, Megan, had hair the color of bright autumn leaves, tightly braided back. Her dress was plain and utterly practical—leggings under a skirt that was clearly made for riding, a plain blouse under a leather vest, with bracers on both wrists and an unstrung bow and quiver of arrows on her back. She also had a knife at her side and carried herself lightly on the balls of her feet, moving with the easy grace of a seasoned hunter. She was slim and lithe, leaner than her sisters, and with hands that showed she knew very well how to use the weapons she wore.

This one is the overt threat, whereas her sisters are more subtle. Anger any one of these three, and hers is the arrow ye’ll see comin’… right afore the needle in yer knee or the knock-out herbs in yer cup send ye to the ground. Fierce and protective, this lass is, and I’ll wager she kens how to use every weapon she holds—an’ more.

None of the three women were women to be trifled with, then. Looking at them, Conall was even more convinced that Laird Auchter had not troubled himself to find out anything about his granddaughters. If he had, he would never have dared to send his men to take one of them. Conall himself wouldn’t have dared to do such a thing—not unless he had an army at his back.

He couldn’t imagine anything less than that would have forced the elder Blackwood sisters to let their youngest sister be taken. And he understood the sentiment perfectly.

Maybe we have more in common than ye might guess.

It was Lily who broke the silence that had fallen, bobbing a shallow curtsy before stepping up to him. “Laird MacKane,” she said politely. “Thank ye for yer gracious welcome.”

She said nothing of the offer he’d made in his letter, and his respect rose. With the stigma against those who were without a clan, he’d half expected them to leap on the offer to take them in. But they were more cautious than that—or at least the eldest was.

Holdenson’s a fool. Nay matter what their father was, these lasses would have been worthy heirs and given strong ties to other clans with their marriage alliances, if he’d bothered to claim them.

“Well, ye’re strong enough to defend Brigid properly, I’ll give ye that.”

It was auburn-haired Megan who had spoken, and the sudden declaration forced Conall out of his thoughts. He looked at her and found her studying him with a critical gaze, having somehow managed to move closer, as silently as a cat, without him even noticing.

“As long as ye’re payin’ attention, I suppose,” she added with a knowing smirk.

“Megan!” Brigid blushed. “Conall protects me well,” she insisted. “He defended me against some angry drunkards just the other night.”

Conall wasn’t quite sure ‘angry drunkards’ was the right way to describe the men who’d attacked her the night before, but he was grateful that his betrothed hadn’t mentioned how, exactly, he’d defended her—or that the ‘drunkards’ in question had been angry members of his very own clan.

He felt his anger rise at the memory, but he pushed it aside, forcing himself to focus on Valerie instead—the seafaring sister—who was watching him with crossed arms and an assessing gaze that made him feel like she could see right into his very soul.

“That’s as may be,” she said smoothly. “But he also bargained ye in exchange for a truce with Laird Auchter, and even Father wouldnae have trusted that man further than he could sail a ship without a hull.”

Brigid opened her mouth to speak, but Conall cleared his throat to stop her. He’d never make a good impression on her sisters if he let her continue defending his honor.

He sighed. “I didnae bargain for yer sister in particular,” he explained, his gaze sweeping over each of the sisters. “I demanded repayment of a life debt for my younger brother. I had nay idea that Auchter would respond by sendin’ yer sister. In fact, until his men brought her here, I had nay idea he had any kin at all. So, Brigid’s arrival was as much a surprise to me as I’m sure it was to her.”

He saw the sisters’ eyes soften with sympathy at the mention of his younger brother and considered stopping there. However, it was better if they heard the whole story from him. If Brigid had already told them, then they would know he was being honest with them. If not, then she could confirm it later.

So, he pressed on, hoping the sisters would value his honesty as much as he did.

“I agreed to the truce,” he said, “for the simple reason that I didnae want any other family to suffer the way mine had at the loss of my brother. I didnae want the threat of open war and a blood feud stealin’ more fathers, brothers, and sons from my clan. So I accepted the offering Aucher sent me, unexpected though it was. And I chose to wed her, rather than make the choice the old man likely expected me to make.”

He paused for a moment to allow this to sink in before continuing.

“I dinnae ken if it makes any difference to ye,” he said quietly. “But I turned Laird Auchter from my gates less than a candlemark afore ye arrived. I’m surprised and relieved that yer paths didnae cross.”

The sisters exchanged glances, each of them clearly disturbed to learn that they’d narrowly missed what would surely have been an extremely unpleasant encounter with their grandfather.

“It makes a good bit of difference,” Valerie said, at last. “Although I think I speak for all of us when I say I’d have liked ye better if ye shot the blackguard rather than just sendin’ him away.”

“Language, Sister,” Lily said in an admonishing tone that suggested this was a regular exchange between her and Valerie, who simply smirked at her warning.

“’Tis far kinder than what Father would have called him,” she said. “Assumin’ Father would have stopped long enough to call him anything afore makin’ him crow’s food. And I somehow dinnae think he would have.”

Conall felt his lip curl upwards in a reluctant smile. “Och, I’d have done it if I could,” he told her. “But I promised a truce, and I’m a man of my word.”

Lily stepped forward until she was only a few paces away from him. “Can we have yer word, then, Conall Barr, Laird of Clan MacKane, that ye will care well for my youngest sister and protect and cherish her as she deserves?” she demanded, her chin tilted up in a challenge that reminded Conall of Brigid.

He had expected the demand, and his answer came easily.

“’Tis given, Miss Blackwood,” he said, giving her a small bow. “And it will be given again at the altar, afore ye and any powers that care to witness it.”

Clear blue eyes studied Conall’s face, and then Lily nodded once, her mind apparently made up.

“Then ye have my blessing,” she said. “In my father and mother’s stead. So long as yer word is kept, we will accept ye and safeguard ye among those who still believe in Blackwood’s interests.”

This was no light promise, Conall knew. Magnus Blackwood might be dead, but his legacy lingered on, and the bonds of loyalty among pirate crews were as strong as those of any clan.

“Ye have my appreciation,” he said, offering her a hand. “An’ though ’tis yer sister I’ll wed, the offer I made in the letter I sent ye still stands. If ye wish it, ye need only say the word, and I’ll claim ye under the colors and care of Clan MacKane, as kin of my wif—my betrothed.”

The spark of amusement in Lily’s eyes told him she’d heard the word he’d so clearly stumbled over, but she only smiled politely and shook his hand in the proper manner for ending negotiations.

“A matter for later consideration, I’m thinkin’,” she said briskly. “For now, however, we have a wagon that needs to be unloaded and a wedding to prepare for.”

Conall was relieved to be able to escape the scrutiny of the three older Blackwood sisters. “Aye. An’ ye’ll be wantin’ to rest and refresh yerselves after the long journey ye’ve had, I’ll wager. As well as speakin’ more with Brigid. I’m sure there will be much ye’ll want to discuss with her.”

And equally sure ye willnae want me around when ye do it.

He waved over one of the many watching servants—because, of course, anyone who could find an excuse to watch the scene in the courtyard had appeared there by now, including Oliver and Emily, who looked on with undisguised interest—and gestured to the sisters.

“Gather folk to help our guests bring in their things, and make sure they receive whatever they need. Including the mornin’ meal, if they havenae eaten yet.”

From the look on Lily’s face, the last request was met with definite approval. Conall couldn’t tell if it was because the sisters were hungry, or because she simply approved of his show of hospitality.

Not that it mattered. They were Brigid’s sisters, and while he didn’t require their approval, there was no denying that having it would certainly make his life easier.

Still somewhat bemused by the events of the last candlemark, Conall left his betrothed chattering happily with her family and went to talk to Emily and Oliver about what needed to be done to prepare for a wedding the following day.

Brigid was so happy that she felt she might grow wings and fly away. Her sisters had arrived, and they would attend her wedding. What’s more, they had accepted Conall as her betrothed, and he had been as kind and courteous toward them as she could have wished. It was all she’d wanted ever since the moment she’d been told she would be wed to Conall Barr.

It took some time to have her sisters’ travel packs delivered to the rooms Emily had arranged for them, and more time still to have her belongings brought to her rooms, but eventually, everything was arranged, and the four sisters sat down to a mid-morning meal in Brigid's chambers, now filled with her things from home.

Megan took a bite of the roasted meats that had been provided and made a noise of approval. “Och, the meat’s good and tender… ’twas well-butchered and well-seasoned.”

“Aye, and the bread is delicious and baked perfectly. I should like to learn some tricks from their cooks,” Lily added, helping herself from one of the platters the maids had brought in.

“I’m sure Conall would let ye have as many lessons as ye like.” Brigid smiled at her sisters. “An’ the hunters would most likely appreciate havin’ yer skill to aid them, Megan.”

“Och, mayhap we’ll find time for all of that while we’re visiting.” Valerie smiled. “Ye ken, we werenae plannin’ to leave directly after the wedding.”

“I hoped ye wouldnae. But I didnae ken whether ye’d want to leave the house closed up for too long.” Brigid swallowed nervously. “I ken ye all have duties ye’ll need to get back to.”

“And nae one of them is more important than carin’ for ye, Brigid,” Lily said, shaking her head decisively. “We’ve nay intention of leavin’ afore we’re certain that ye’re happy.”

“Are ye happy, though?” Valerie leaned forward, her expression suddenly serious. “Do ye want to stay here, Brigid? If ye dinnae wish to marry this man, we can sneak ye out of here afore the evening falls and be on our way back home afore he even kens ye’re missin’.”

“Aye. Ye must tell us honestly if ye dinnae want to stay, or…” Lily hesitated. “Do ye really want to get married, Brigid?” she asked in a rush. “To a man like Laird MacKane? I heard some whispers from the servants…” she trailed off, seeing the way her younger sister’s cheeks flushed at the question.

“Aye,” Brigid replied in a quiet voice. “I’ve heard some of the same whispers, Lily. And aye, Conall has a temper, I willnae deny that. But… well, the thing is, in the time I’ve kenned him, I’ve come to… to care for him.”

She paused, staring down at her plate to hide her discomfort. This was not the kind of conversation she was used to having with her sisters—or with anyone, for that matter—and she wasn’t quite sure how to proceed, or even what she wanted to say.

“Care for and desire to wed arenae the same thing,” Valerie pointed out, coming to the rescue in her forthright way. “’Tis understandable if ye’re growin’ to like him while nae bein’ ready to wed just yet. Ye hardly ken the man, Brigid. Ye’ve only been here for a few days. If he cares for ye, then surely he’d nae object to a longer courtship?”

“Aye.” Lily nodded. “Ye scarcely ken aught about him. What’s the rush to wed?”

“I ken he cares for me. He’s protected me,” Brigid replied, swallowing.

She understood why her sisters were asking her these questions—they were the same questions she’d have asked if it had been one of them in her position. But that knowledge didn’t change her answer.

“I ken ’tis sudden,” she admitted, looking shyly around the little group. “But I… I dinnae think I’ll learn aught more about Conall than what I already ken, and I think that even if I waited a year, I’d still be willing, even happy, to wed Conall. I’m sure of it, in fact.”

“Conall.” Valerie raised an eyebrow.

Brigid felt a blush rising in her cheeks, but she held her elder sister’s gaze defiantly. “Aye.”

“Well, as long as ye’re sure…”

Lily quickly got to her feet and came around the table to embrace her sister gently. “If ye’re sure, and ye’re happy, then of course, we’ll stand by ye.”

“We’ll even move to MacKane lands,” Valerie put in unexpectedly.

Brigid blinked at her, her heart beating so fast that she could barely hear herself think.

“Ye would?”

Valerie studied her. “Did ye nae hear him when he asked if we would wish to join his clan?” she asked.

Brigid swallowed hard as this sank in. “Aye but… ye’d truly consider it?” she asked incredulously.

“Aye. We’ve been considerin’ it ever since the Laird made us the offer,” Lily replied, her embrace tightening. “But only if ye’re certain ye want to wed him.”

“I do.” Brigid looked up at her sister. “I do.”

She did want to marry Conall. There was a part of her that still remembered her mother’s warning, but it didn’t seem to matter—not when she recalled the passion in Conall’s kiss and the way he’d defended her against the men who’d threatened her last night. Even that first night, when he’d known nothing about her save that her grandfather had sent her, he had protected her, incensed by the knowledge that she had been harmed.

He was still a frightening man. Still the type of gruff, temperamental warrior her mother had warned her against trusting with her heart. But he was a fair one, and a loyal one—anyone could see that. And Brigid couldn’t make herself turn away from him, even if she’d wanted to.

The truth was, Conall made her feel like no one else ever had, and that was a feeling she couldn’t help but want to explore some more.

The talk around the table turned to other, more familiar subjects—which villagers had approached Valerie for new clothing, what Megan had hunted recently, and how Lily was progressing with her herbal studies and the household preparations.

Eventually, though, her sisters dispersed to bathe and change for dinner, tired after their long journey, and Brigid found herself wandering the halls of what would soon be her home—the place she was coming to love as much as she loved the large cottage she’d grown up in.

Maybe ‘home’ could be more than one place.

“Brigid.” She turned to find Conall behind her.

“Conall. Did ye have a good day?”

Conall smiled, a quick quirk of the scarred side of his mouth before his expression smoothed over into the customary impassivity. “I think I’m supposed to be askin’ ye that. Did ye enjoy spendin’ the day with yer sisters?”

“I did. ’Tis good to see them again.” Brigid moved closer and impulsively embraced him, her arms tight around his tapered waist. “Thank ye for offerin’ to accept them into the clan.”

“They’re yer kin. And they’ve nae agreed to it yet, so I woulnae get too excited.” Conall’s voice rumbled through his chest as Brigid leaned against it, listening to the deep, comforting tone that was already becoming so familiar. “I gather they want to be sure ye’re happy afore they decide.”

“That is what Lily and Valerie are thinkin’,” Brigid agreed. “They’ll most likely give ye an answer after the wedding tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” The soft question in Conall’s voice made her look up. “Are ye sure?”

Brigid blinked. “Ye said the wedding would be held the day after my sisters arrived.”

“Aye, I did. But I ken… there hasnae been much time for courtin’. If ye wished to delay for longer, I would understand. And I would be patient, much as it would pain me to wait.”

“Ye said the truce wouldnae hold if we waited too long, though?” Brigid said, frowning in confusion.

Conall snorted. “Och, Laird Auchter proved today that he’ll do as he likes. He doesnae have much choice, really. The truce will hold well enough if we wait a little longer.”

Brigid blinked up at him as an unwelcome thought came to her. “Do ye… do ye wish to delay?” she asked tentatively, not sure if she wanted to know the answer to her question.

Conall pulled her close, his gaze as intense as firelight trapped in glass. “Make nay mistake,” Brigid,” he said quietly. “I’d marry ye right this moment if it were possible. But as much as I wish for ye to be my wife, I wish for ye to be happy. I told ye afore… I’m marryin’ ye for ye , nae for the sake of peace with Eric Holdenson. So, when ye walk up to me at the altar and swear in front of the priest, I want ye to be completely sure that ye’re willin’ and happy to be there.”

He was giving her a choice. The choice to wait, and the choice to walk away if she wished. For a moment, Brigid considered the offer and the choice, as well as her mother’s rule, which continued to echo in the back of her mind almost like a lullaby.

But in the end, she knew what her answer was.

“I am ready, Conall,” she said firmly. “I want to wed ye, too. And I want to do it tomorrow.”

“Then tomorrow it will be.”

Conall bent to kiss her gently, and she leaned into his embrace, her heart fluttering with equal parts happiness, nervousness, and just a little bit of regret.

I’m sorry, Mama, but it appears I’ll disobey ye one last time. I ken what ye said, but Conall makes me happy and safe. Ye taught me to love and live and trust my heart, and to do that, and have a chance at the happiness ye wanted for me… I’m afraid I have to break yer final rule.