Page 30 of The Highlander’s Fake Wife (Legacy of Highland Lairds #4)

I t was a few more days before the ceilidh properly began, and Olivia fully immersed herself in preparations.

Though Alison insisted she needed no help, there came a point where she no longer spoke up while handling a fussy Forrester.

As such, Olivia spent her time preparing various dishes and tying the clan’s colors all around the keep, with Arthur occasionally slipping out of Laird Marsden’s study.

And with him so busy, Rosie spent more and more time with Olivia, much to her delight.

“So, Uncle Arthur saved ye from a tarn?” Rosie asked, feet kicking over her chair as Olivia took a pan of bread from the oven.

“Aye, that he did.”

Rosie’s brow furrowed slightly. “But, why were ye swimming so late at night? Were it nay cold?”

“A-Aye, it was quite cold.”

Rosie’s brow furrowed further. “That wasnae very wise o’ye, Auntie ‘Livia.”

“Rosie!” Alison suddenly appeared in the door’s frame, Forrester in her arms and a flush on her face. “That’s nae how we speak to our guests.”

“But it wasnae wise, Mam!” Rosie insisted. “And she shouldnae do it again.”

“Yes, but-”

“And Faither says ye should always tell someone when they’re nae being wise,” Rosie huffed. “So that they stay safe.”

“ Yes , but-”

“Oh, it’s quite alright, Alison” Olivia insisted. “I would much rather have someone speak candidly than cordially with me.” She set the pan aside, removing her mitten before patting Rosie’s head. “I shall keep yer warning in mind, wee Rosie. No more midnight swims for me.”

Rosie beamed brightly, hand reaching for a cooled shortbread.

“Daenae even think about it,” Alison called from farther down the hall. “Ye’ll spoil yer dinner.”

Rose grumbled under her breath, returning the treat with another huff. “‘Livia, are ye gonna get powers like Mammie when yer baby’s born?”

Olivia snorted with startled laughter, nearly tripping on her feet. “I’m nae expecting a babe, Rosie!”

“Aye, but ye will be,” Rosie insisted. “Once ye an’ Uncle Arthur get married. And when ye are, ye have to tell me if ye get powers like Mammie. Seeing through walls, and all that.”

Olivia turned, covering her mouth to repress awkward giggles. “I’ll be certain to do so, Rosie dear.”

At last, the proper day of celebration began, and the keep was filled with friends and family alike.

Arthur stood beside the Marsdens properly, greeting newcomers with Rosie on one side and Maesie on the other.

He sighed lightly, lamenting at the fact that he and Olivia hadn’t had a second to themselves.

Outside of their impromptu archery contest (to which he was still recovering from his traumatic defeat by Rosie’s hand), Olivia barely had time to even tend to herself.

Poor Alison practically tied Forrester to her hip; this was the first time Arthur had seen her without the babe in hand. Of course, it was wonderful for Olivia to help–just another of her many qualities he found himself enjoying about her–but it would have been nice if she were a bit more selfish.

Or, perhaps just selfish for his sake.

“Why do I have to greet everyone, too?” Rosie grumbled, her face having settled into a semi-permanent scowl since the beginning of the greetings.

“’Tis the curse of leadership, rosebush,” Arthur replied with a wink. “Daenae worry; there arenae many guests left. Ye’ll be playing with yer new pup soon enough.”

“Fergus,” Rosie corrected him.

“Aah, excuse me. I hadnae realized ye named him already.” Arthur chuckled, offering a nod of apology. “‘Fergus’ will be eagerly awaitin’ yer return, Rosie. Just a few more folk left.”

Laird Marcus of MacGunn was the first of many familiar faces, his shockingly blonde hair fashioned neatly and icy blue eyes noticeably lowering the temperature around wherever he stepped. “A thousand greetings to ye, Laird and Lady Marsden. And to ye, Laird MacDonnell.”

Arthur nodded his head curtly, Maesie letting out a soft rumbling deep in her throat.

He placed his hand reassuringly against the deerhound’s head, ensuring her protective nature didn’t make unnecessary enemies.

“Ye’ll have to forgive me hound, Laird MacGunn.

She doesnae do well around unfamiliar folk. ”

“Aye, but what sort o’hound would she be if she doesnae protect her master?” Marcus offered a slight smirk, kneeling down to offer his hand Rosie’s way. “And a special greeting to the wee princess of the roses. I hope the next few days are filled with joy an’ laughter.”

Rosie eyed his hand for a moment, then begrudgingly took it.

“Will ye nae thank Laird MacGunn for his kind words, Rosie?” Duncan asked.

Again, Rosie hesitated.

“Go on, sweetness,” Alison insisted softly.

With a forced smile, Rosie tilted her chin and spoke words that seemed entirely rehearsed. “Thank ye kindly, me Laird. I hope ye enjoy our hospitality.”

Marcus chuckled lightly, bowing his head before standing upright once more. “Aye, what a fine young lass ye’re growin’ to be, Rosie.”

“We lairds will gather once Hector gets here,” Duncan said. “For now, enjoy the festivities.”

“Thank ye, Laird Marsden. And,” his gaze flipped to Arthur, icy eyes hardening slightly. “I’m fascinated to learn what ye needed us for, Laird MacDonnell.”

Arthur exhaled sharply as Marcus entered the keep.

He was not as familiar with the laird as Hector was, though such familiarity had come from multiple skirmishes between the pairs’ clans.

The peace treaty was in effect, certainly, but trust was a hard-earned good.

And, that was reasonable enough; the ink had only just begun to dry.

Still, he could respect the laird for the power he carried behind himself.

It wasn’t obvious, didn’t scream in your face with blood and fury.

It reminded him of the wintertime, a cold, chilling presence that clung to your skin and lingered well after Marcus had left.

It was another hour or so greeting unfamiliar faces, and Arthur suddenly sympathized with Rosie’s boredom. He leaned across to Alison, carefully whispering as to not attract attention. “Do ye ken where Olivia might be, Alison?”

She gave him a bemused look in return. “Worried she’ll wander off, yer lairdship?”

He hadn’t been, until she’d brought it up.

“I’m teasing ye, Arthur,” Alison chuckled lightly, nodding her head in greetings to another pair of guests. As they passed into the keep proper, she leaned in once more to speak. “I’m a bit surprised, though. Usually, ye’d already be eyeing other ladies as they fluttered by.”

“Usually, I’m nay betrothed,” Arthur pointed out.

“Nay, that’s true,” Duncan interjected, clearly too interested in the conversation to stay out of it any longer. “Which, if we’re being honest, is equally as strange a sight.”

“Aye; I dinnae even ken ye found someone until ye wrote back to us!” Alison admonished.

“What are ye, a pair o’ peckin hens?” Arthur hissed. “The pair o’ ye were the loudest o’ the bunch in tryin’ to get me married.”

“True,” Duncan admitted.

“Very true,” Alsion agreed. “It’s just…the timing of it all seems rather quick.”

“Rather convenient, given how noisy yer council’s been getting,” Duncan added with a raised brow.

Arthur wished he had an excuse to walk away from this conversation.

And, much to his relief, it came in the arrival of Laird and Lady McKimmon.

Or, more precisely, it came with the appearance of a large, gray mastiff, sprinting through the crowd before tacking Maesie to the ground.

Rosie let out a startled–delighted–squeal, dancing in place as the dogs wrestled playfully across the ground.

“Pipkin! Pipkin’s here!” Rosie said.

A pair of children came clambering next, the boy just on the edge of his manhood while his sister still had a few years left to go. “Rosie!” The little girl immediately sprinted ahead of her brother, grabbing Rosie and similarly taking her to the ground in a tight hug. “Rosie, Rosie! I’m here!”

“Ye’re here!” Rosie repeated excitedly, arms squeezing her friend back.

The older boy slipped beside both Arthur and Duncan, arms crossed loosely as he rolled his eyes over the dramatic display. “Bonnie, yer gettin’ too old to act like this.”

“Well, yer too young to be nagging like that, Lyall,” Bonnie argued back.

“Aye, that’s enough outta the both of ye.” Arthur easily picked the two girls up and tucked them under his arms, the pair of them squealing with laughter. “Nice to see ye again, Bonnie, lass.”

“Hello, Uncle Arthur!” Bonnie laughed.

Again, Lyall rolled his eyes, turning to give a more subtle bow towards Laird and Lady Marsden. “Greetings, yer laird and ladyship. Thank ye again fer inviting our family to yer ceilidh.”

“Ooh, how very formal of ye.” Alison offered a curtsy of her own, her husband giving a nod of respect. “We’re quite grateful that ye kinfolk made the journey here.”

“Laird MacKimmon is right behind us,” Lyall explained, “Katie has slowed in pace due to the babe that’s coming any minute now, and as such, Hector’s ensuring she doesnae hurt herself.”

“How very responsible of him,” Duncan noted.

“I suppose so.” Lyall looked clearly annoyed, adding almost as an afterthought, “He said ye and th’other lairds had important business to discuss, but I was nay allowed to sit in.

” His scowl soured, arms tightening against his chest. “Doesnae seem proper, what with meself workin’ to be his future man-at-arms an’ all. ”

“Aye, it’s good yer taking an interest in politics, Lyall,” Arthur agreed, setting the squealing girls back down onto the ground. “But the less folk who ken, the better. For now, ye can help by ensuring no one else tries to listen in.”

That seemed to perk the young man up, and he immediately took his new task on with gusto. “As ye command, me Laird.”

“Bonnie! I got me own hound too, like Pipkin!” Rosie squealed. “Uncle Arthur gave him to me!”

“What’s his name?” Bonnie asked.

“Fergus!” Rosie squealed. “He’s a deerhound, like Maesie, only he’s more blackish, and he’s smaller, and he’s so cute”

“I wanna see Fergus, I wanna see Fergus!” With that, Bonnie grabbed Rosie’s hand as the pair took off across the castle’s drawbridge, cackling wildly all the way across.

“So much fer greeting all her guests,” Alison sighed lightly.

“She lasted longer than I thought,” Duncan admitted.

“And it’ll be good fer her to play, especially after what she told us.

A bit o’extra attention from her friends’ll do her well.

” He then squinted farther down the path, pointing forward for Arthur to see.

“Ah; that’ll be Hector an’ Katie now. I doubt Gerald will be attending–as usual–so, I’ll go an’ find Marcus and meet ye in me study? ”

Arthur nodded, relieved his romantic life was no longer the topic of interest. He had hoped for a moment to go and hunt down Olivia, but that seemed far too big an inconvenience for the other lairds.

So, Arthur resolved to finish their meeting as quickly as possible, as to not waste any more valuable time he could be spending at the side of his selkie.

“Oh, but before ye go!” Alison grasped Arthur’s sleeve gently, a mischievous glint flashing across her eye. “I was going to visit Olivia’s room, she how she was gettin’ on with her dress. Ye daenae mind accompanying me, do ye, Arthur?”

Arthur turned to Duncan, who only shrugged his shoulders with a slight smirk of his own. “I willnae be the one to deny her wishes. I have to sleep beside her.”

Arthur groaned inwardly. Evidently, his love life would continue to be a topic of interest.