Page 19 of The Highlander’s Fake Wife (Legacy of Highland Lairds #4)

I t was the first time in quite a long time that Olivia looked forward to what tomorrow brought her. She chatted excitedly over dinner about her impromptu hunting trip, from her riding Airgiod to Arthur’s heartfelt promise (and wisely saying nothing about the pair’s bet).

Flora practically fell out of her seat with how much she leaned across it to listen. Meanwhile, Elspeth’s bright smile would occasionally darken with a scowl, flashing her eyes Arthur’s way when Olivia detailed his childish antics.

“Och, nay, Arthur!” Elspeth scolded. “Yer far too old to be ribbing girls like this, especially yer betrothed!”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Mam,” Arthur replied, though he gave his signature wink Olivia’s way.

She couldn’t help but chuckle, having finally felt at peace for the first time in…

the pause in thought was far too long in her mind.

‘Days’ was the correct answer, of course, but Olivia realized that, for a brief moment, the word, ‘months’ came first. The idea tied a knot of guilt in her chest, tightening further when she could barely remember a single time she’d spent a nice moment with her entire family present.

“So, Olivia!” Flora said. “Nathan told me one of our allies are havin’ a ceilidh fer their daughter. Got the missive last night.”

“O-Oh?” Olivia asked.

“He said I should let ye ken today,” Flora added. “Since he wouldnae see ye when ye got up.”

“Where’s he gone?”

Flora’s expression softened, and Olivia could have sworn she was holding back a worried sigh. “He wanted to join the others in finding yer maither. Said he wanted to do his part to makin’ ye feel welcome.”

The knot in Olivia's chest tightened further.

“What are ye scheming hens up to over there?” Elspeth inquired.

“Mam!” Flora gasped. “I would never do such a thing. I was simply telling Olivia of Rosie’s celebration.”

“Aye, did Nathan tell ye before he left?” Arthur asked.

“Mam an’ I were speaking of it while ye were out,” Flora explained.

“Aye, we were!” Elspeth agreed, excitedly clapping her hands together as she spoke. “I thought it a lovely idea to bring Olivia along! T’would be the perfect time fer introducing her to family outside our own bloodline.”

“And, before ye say anything,” Arthur added. “I willnae go meself ‘till yer maither is safely behind our walls. Ye have me word, selkie.”

Olivia found herself unable to nod, her hand tightly gripped around the stem of her goblet.

“I was so excited to see how grown up Rosie’s gotten,” Flora lamented, her hand settling tenderly against her stomach.

“But I woke up so nauseous this morning–Nathan made me swear not to push meself, and I ken I’d be miserable riding horseback all the way to Duncan’s keep.

But, still,” she offered another loud sigh, elbow against the table she rested her chin against her hand.

“Well, ‘tis a good thing Olivia’ll be going with Arthur, aye?” Elspeth beamed.

Olivia found herself staring at her half-eaten dinner, unable to meet anyone’s gaze. “I…daenae have anything to wear, though.”

“That’s even better!” Flora squealed. “Ye and I can go to town and find ye something!”

“Are ye nae nauseous, though?” Arthur inquired innocently.

Flora’s mood visibly dampened, and she let out a disappointed huff. “Ye such a wowser, ye ken that?”

“Aye,” Arthur agreed. “But I’d rather spoil yer fun than have Nathan angry at me. If ye got sick during the trip there, how do ye think he’d feel?”

“But shopping is me favorite pastime!” Flora whined.

“Nay, now yer brother is right,” Elspeth interjected. “Fer all we ken, ye could be in the first few weeks of expecting yer wee bairn! Imagine him or her being all shaken about a top a horse.”

Flora’s face flushed bright, as if she hadn’t even considered the possibility.

“I’m sure Olivia would be happy to shop with ye after the ceilidh,” Elspeth reassured.

“She’ll be needing her own proper wardrobe if she’s going to stay here.

And, if I’m right o’bout ye being with child,” Elspeth added with a wink.

“She can help ye find some looser gowns once the wee one starts growing in!”

Olivia didn’t quite feel like laughing alongside the women.

And, at this point, Arthur seemed fully aware that something was off.

He nodded his head towards the dining hall’s exit, giving Olivia a questioning furrow of his brow.

With a beat’s worth of hesitation, Olivia did manage a nod this time, and she watched as Arthur suddenly rose from his chair.

“Forgive me, Mam, but a promise I made to Olivia slipped me mind.” We’ll be excusing ourselves fer a brief spell.”

“Och, nay bother, sweetness,” Elspeth said. “But hurry back; I heard the kitchen got their hands on some raspberries and made cranachan! Ah, but I’ll let them ken to take the whiskey outta yers, Flora,” she added teasingly. “Daenae want to edge on yer ‘nausea’ anymore than needed.”

Arthur offered a sweet smile in return, moving towards Olivia and offering a hand.

She took it willingly and allowed herself to be led out of the dining hall.

They walked a few paces down the hall, Arthur glancing about to ensure no servant would intrude, nor that his family would overhear their conversation.

Then, looking satisfied, his attention solely fixed on Olivia.

“Aye, now, tell me what’s bothering ye, Olivia? ”

Again, he used her name. And, again, it wove its spell, taking apart walls she’d built up for years and letting her true emotions rush forth.

“I ken ye said ye’d get me maither,” Olivia began.

“I just…I cannae help but worry fer her, Arthur.” She found herself staring at the freshly wiped floors, hands absentmindedly beginning to braid her hair.

“Ye’ve given me so much, and–and of course, I believe yer words, I just… I…”

Gently, his hand slipped beneath her chin.

And, gently, he lifted her gaze to meet his.

Olivia blinked furiously, biting her lip at the sight of his face.

The kind lines around his eye, the subtle note of concern in his brow.

Everything that once put her on the defensive now weakened her considerably.

But, still, she couldn’t help but flicker her eyes away.

“Ah.” Arthur’s hand returned to his side. “I didnae ask.”

Olivia shook her head, fighting to keep her voice steady. “Nay, I daenae mind–but…” she exhaled loudly, dropping her hair as it settled against her chest. “Could ye braid it again? Like ye did last night?”

Arthur obliged, leading the pair to a small table set up in the small alcove of a sitting room.

The hearth burned warmly against Olivia’s face, and she sat in a simply made stool Arthur had pulled out for her.

He opted to remain standing, carefully separating her hair into two main sections before quietly getting to work.

Olivia’s eyes fluttered shut, the occasional tug against her head a reassurance that she wasn’t alone.

Arthur didn’t push her to speak, didn’t inquire further or try and defend his word to her.

He simply wove her hair into two, thick braids, slowly bringing them around her hair like a makeshift band.

“Hope ye daenae mind the milkmaid’s style,” he joked lightly.

It managed to pull a weak giggle from Olivia, and as he stepped around into her view, she carefully brushed her fingers along the braids against the top of her head. “Ye really are a marvel, ye know that?”

“I try me best,” Arthur winked. Then, he found a stool of his own and took a seat, sighing as if he’d been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders for the whole of his life. “Can ye tell me what’s really botherin ye, now? I daenae think it’s all to do wit yer maither.”

Olivia squirmed slightly; it was uncanny, how easily he could seemingly read her mind.

“I…hadnae considered what it may be like, if she were really gone. Me maither’s me last link to me clan–the part that daenae want me dead–and I just…

” She paused, once more biting her lip, trying to find the words to say.

Or, being too frightened to say what she really meant, in fear that it would become reality.

And still, Arthur patiently waited, dedicated to hearing her every worry.

In some terrible part of her heart, Olivia wished that wasn’t the case.

That he was as cruel as she’d heard, that his family was just as terrible. Because then, maybe…

“...I daenae think I liked me clan as much as I like yers, m’laird.”

Arthur had to admit it; he was completely taken aback.

He had suspected something to be bothering Olivia, yes, but he figured it had to do with him being her family’s sworn enemy.

Living with the person who murdered one’s kin couldn’t be easy, and Arthur was willing to work through that fear with her.

Prove that, no matter what, he was not just a killer.

He wasn’t ready to hear that she…liked his folk more than her own clan.

“I still care for all of them greatly,” Olivia quickly added.

“I–I grew up beside so many of them; it’d be ridiculous not to care about them.

Her fingers brushed his braidwork once more, clearly wrestling with what she wanted to say, and what was expected.

“It’s just…with what they did, it got me thinking about…

other things they’ve done. Constantly discussing who I’d be engaged to, having strong and healthy sons to help faither rule the clan, like I wasnae even there! I never felt like…like…?”

“Like ye had yer own mind to make up?” Arthur suddenly felt closer than ever to the woman before him.

Of course he knew what it was like to be constantly watched, have expectations placed upon him he never asked for.

In the last few days...he ’d almost forgotten that Olivia was also once in a position of great power. Of great responsibility.

“Spending time with Flora…seeing her with her husband…I daenae ken if I could have ever found something like that in me own clan.” Olivia’s voice caught in her throat, and she quickly shook her head, staring down at folded, trembling hands set against the table.

“B-but, that’s a terrible thing to say, and a terrible person fer thinkin’ such things.

This had to be why they chased me out–they ken, deep down, that I daenae like them. ”

Arthur knew full well he shouldn’t have grabbed her hands like he had.

But she looked so distant, so lost; instinct had long-since took over, ensuring she knew there was a place of warmth close by.

His hand fully enveloped hers, cradling it in his palm before offering a comforting squeeze.

For a moment, he waited for her to admonish him, but she only looked at him with a flicker of relief.

As if he’d just grabbed her before she’d fallen off the edge.

“I daenae ken what goes on in yer mind, selkie,” he began. “And…I cannae imagine all ye’ve gone through in life. When I told ye about me–about seeing the world all black an’ white–’twas not meant to make ye feel like a monster yerself.”

Olivia chuckled lightly, her brow raising ever so slightly. “I daenae ken if I fully believe that last part, m’laird.”

“Alright–maybe I wanted ye to feel a touch bad about yer narrow views,” Arthur admitted. “But ye cannae deny that it helped to see me own clan in a softer light.”

Olivia nodded, conceding to his point.

“Yer a better person fer being willin’ to change yerself,” Arthur said.

“And maybe that change does come wit a few frightenin’ thoughts.

But nay one will admonish ye fer enjoyin’ the company of others, selkie.

And,” he added, patting her hands reassuringly.

“If it makes ye feel better, sometimes I prefer the company o’Maesie over me own family. ”

That got a snort of laughter out of Olivia. “Arthur!”

“‘Tis true!” Arthur insisted. “They drive me crazy at times! Mam’s always tryin’ to treat me like her wee bairn an’ not a laird, and me sister,” he whistled low with a shake of his head.

“I wanted to exile Nathan at one point, on account o’ how much the pair went on about each other.

Lovesick fools, I tell ye; every day, I had to here it from one–or both–o’them!

‘Nathan’s so charming’, ‘Flora’s so beautiful’--on repeat, fer days! ”

More laughter escaped from Olivia’s chest; the strong, hearty kind that made Arthur smile.

“And…I daenae think ye have to worship to ground yer family walks, either.” A cold ache settled in his chest amidst the mirth, and he freed a hand to gesture to his eyepatch.

“There’s plenty o’folk who bear me blood that… I see as nothin’ more than strangers.”

Olivia’s laughter fell away; now, it was her who squeezed his hand in comfort. She looked as if she wanted to ask more, but respectfully kept her curiosity at bay.

“So…if yer thoughts about yer own family arenae too kind,” Arthur said softly. “It doesnae make ye a bad person. It just means…yer seeing the world fer what it fully is.”

Olivia nodded slowly, his words fully sinking into her being. “I…daenae ken what to think, anymore.”

“Just trust yerself,” Arthur reassured. “Ye a lot smarter an’ more resilient than ye give yerself credit fer.”

Again, Olivia nodded. “I…I will. Thank ye…Arthur. Ye didnae have to say all of that fer my sake.”

Her thanks was better than any ale or whiskey Arthur had ever had before in his life.

It warmed his core and put him slightly off-kilter, and he found himself wanting more.

But, it was clear Olivia had a lot on her mind to think about, so he did his best to quell the rising urge to take her away to his bedroom.

“We should probably get back to them, now. Though, if yer feelin’ like being by yerself… ”

Olivia’s nose immediately crinkled. “Oh, gracious, no. I’d rather not be stuck in me own head right now. Plus,” she added with a slight smirk. “I want to here more about this, ‘celebration’ ye were so keen about bringing me to. Though, not keen enough to tell me yerself?”

Arthur’s grin was a touch too forced. “Aye! Well, there wasnae a good opportunity, is all.”

“Mmm,” Olivia nodded, finger tracing the seams of the table. “Yer right, of course. We only saw each other, what, all day today? No time whatsoever to bring it up.”

Goddess of the sea, indeed. As teasing as the waves on a hot, summer’s day.