Page 31 of The Highlander’s Fake Wife (Legacy of Highland Lairds #4)

I t was the first time Olivia had seen the fabled dress.

Her mother had explained it had been specially tailored for her, and between the scare and their quick departure from MacDonnell keep–and, of course, she wouldn’t risk ruining it by unwrapping it on the road–Olivia hadn’t the time to take a proper look.

But now, as she held the dress against her body and inspected herself, she couldn’t help but be mesmerized at the craftsmanship. It really had been perfectly made to fit her body, the silver cloth and dappled pattern bringing out the undertones of grey beneath her oceanic eyes.

“Suppose there’s only one way to ken for sure,” she half-muttered to herself as she began to slip the dress on.

Sometime after, a gentle knock sounded against her door. “Olivia? I wanted to check in on ye; all our guests have arrived for the celebration.”

Olivia’s face flushed at the slight concern in Alison’s tone.

“A-Aye! Apologies, I’m just about finished.

” She quickly finished adjusting her arisaid before moving toward the door, opening it with a sweeping motion.

Before she could apologize again, she found herself taken aback by Arthur’s stare, suddenly realizing he’d been quietly standing at the Lady’s side the entire time.

‘Ogle’ wasn’t the correct term for what the laird of MacDonnell was doing; he fully took her in, from the intricate braids to the hem of her gown, absorbing the scene as if he were a plant desperate for sunlight.

“Aye, I agree, Arthur,” Alison teased lightly. “She does look amazing, doesnae she?”

Arthur blinked, only able to nod as Olivia’s face flushed hot.

“Well, let’s not linger any further in the hall, shall we?

” Alison gestured to Arthur, who seemed to snap out of his daze and offer a hand Olivia’s way.

She took it as gracefully as she could manage, trying very hard not to stare directly into his wonder-filled eyes.

Truly, she couldn’t recall a time that a man had looked at her with such… admiration.

The trio made their way out from the castle’s entrance and toward the center of the celebration.

A few benches and chairs had been set up within the main square, banners flickering in the breeze as the sound of music filled the air.

Folks were already dancing around a large, open circle reserved for such activities, and Olivia couldn’t help but smile as such revelry.

“I cannae wait to see ye spin in that gown,” Arthur whispered to her.

Again, Olivia felt flushed in the face.

“Alright, alright; ye have a meeting to attend, Laird MacDonnell!” Alison’s smile turned to a smirk once more. “Give yer betrothed a goodbye kiss fer now; I promise she’s in good hands with me an’ Katie.”

Olivia squeezed Arthur’s hand tightly; she didn’t want him to leave just yet. And Arthur seemed to reciprocate the desire, letting out a soft sigh as he raised her hand to his lips. “I’ll come find ye afterward, selkie. Save me a dance.”

Olivia nodded, somewhat in a daze as she watched Arthur slip through the crowd and back towards the castle proper. Alison’s hand gave her a squeeze, now, and she allowed herself to be led toward the head tables.

“Ye really fancy him, daenae ye, Olivia?” Alison asked.

All Olivia could manage was a nod. She really, truly did.

As they drew closer to their table, a noticeably expecting woman with bright, strawberry hair sat at one of the chairs.

She seemed to be nursing a mug of chilled water, and even sat down, Olivia was aware of the woman’s unusual height.

But the warm smile she offered immediately put Olivia at ease; she appeared just as motherly as Alison had when they’d first met.

“You must be Laird MacDonnell’s betrothed.

” The woman offered the chair beside her, and Olivia quickly took a seat.

“Aye! I told ye she were real, Katie,” Alison teased.

Katie rolled her eyes, taking a sip from her cup as Olivia found herself unable to stop staring. In response, Katie’s hand settled gently against her stomach, taking on a playfully teasing tone. “Ye eager to have yer own soon, Olivia?”

“I-I’m sorry for staring,” Olivia began to apologize, but Alison’s laughter immediately lightened the mood.

“Nay worry, hen! Katie did the same to me before Forrester was born.” She leaned across the table, brow raised and giggling mischievously. “Ye should’ve seen her just now wit Arthur, though–I daenae think their wedding can come soon enough.”

“Och, Alison!” Katie chided lightly. “I’m terribly sorry fer me friend, Olivia. And to think, ye had to endure this the last few days on yer own?”

Olivia managed a weak giggle. “I-I’ve been enjoying my time here quite a lot, actually. Ye’ve been a wonderful hostess, yer ladyship.”

“Och, now, that’s gonna get awfully confusing,” Alison teased. “When it’s just us hens, ye can call us by name.”

“Ah, but speaking of names,” Katie gushed.

“I think I finally managed to convince Hector of a pair at last.” She set a hand on her belly, almost sounding wistful as she spoke next.

“Johnson fer a boy, Jean fer a girl. And to think, they’ll have so many children to grow up with.

Not that I daenae want more,” she emphasized.

“But, it’s nice to think I can visit me allies instead o’worrying about enemies. ”

“I told Duncan the same thing!” Alison beamed, taking Olivia’s hand and squeezing it lightly. “And soon, ye’ll be joining us fer all sorts o’ get togethers with our wee bairns.”

A terrible longing hollowed its way into Olivia’s chest. “A-Aye…that’ll be lovely.”

“Oh, but ye have to tell us how ye managed to catch Arthur’s heart like ye have,” Katie insisted.

“Yes, absolutely!” Alison agreed. “I never seen him so infatuated in me life!”

Olivia found herself backed into a corner once more. But, instead of a tale full of lies, she realized she could simply tell the story of how she truly began to fall for the Laird MacDonnell.

And so, Olivia started from the beginning of it all.

Hector frowned, taking another swig from his mug before speaking up. “Arthur, ye’re making this far harder than it needs to be. Just kill the remainder o’clan MacCulloh an’ be done wit it. Hell, I’ll give ye a few o’me own warriors, just to get the job done quicker.”

A collective groan rang out from the other lairds, though the loudest came from Duncan. “Laird MacDonnell made it clear that wasnae an option.”

“Lard MacDonnell said it was the least desirable,” Hector pointed out gruffly. “But it’s the most effect o’them all. Clean-cut and decisive; ye willnae have to worry fer yer betrothed’s safety if there isnae any disloyal left.”

Arthur gripped his own mug tightly, head feeling as if someone had spun it around a few dozen times.

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t expected diverse opinions–it’s why he called the meeting in the first place–but he’d forgotten how…

loudly opinionated the other lairds could be.

Duncan and Hector’s, especially if said opinions conflicted.

“The Younger o’MacCulloh willnae appreciate the extermination of her kin,” Duncan pointed out. “They are to be married, after all.”

“She would prefer the safety over her betrayers than herself?” Hector asked.

“She was once their protector, Hector,” Arthur interjected, fighting to keep his temper out of his tone. “And as a laird, we are nay unfamiliar wit the concept o’laying down our lives fer our kin.”

“Aye, but she wasnae a laird,” Hector argued. “Her faither was, and he did a poor job, what wit the mess he left behind fer his daughter to figure out!”

“’Twas not his fault he was killed in battle,” Marcus stated plainly.

All eyes briefly flickered to Arthur, who bit his tongue to avoid saying something he’d regret.

“But it is his fault fer having no control o’his clan,” Hector said, reclaiming the conversation. And now they’re a danger to everyone around them! Bloodthirsty, unorganized, ungrateful eejits.”

Once more, Duncan tried to play devil’s advocate. “They’re scared,”

“They’re stupid ,” Hector snapped. “And stupidity breeds a dangerous sort o’violence.” The two lairds glared at each other from across the table, and Arthur wondered if he was going to be responsible for re-igniting the conflict between the two clans.

Then, Marcus spoke up, his tone quiet and words carefully chosen.

“Murder isnae a good foundation to a new partnership. I think we all can agree on that, m’lairds.

And I think we all ken that uniting the clans through this marriage is the more preferable choice; the highlands have been soaked in blood, and it’s time we took steps to remedy that. ”

A heavy silence hung between the lairds, Hector and Duncan in particular casting uneasy looks between each other.

Arthur polished off his cup and practically slammed it against the table, expectedly garnering the attention of every one present.

He stood from his chair before taking command once more of the conversation.

“While I appreciate yer willingness to fight on me behalf, Laird MacKimmon,”

Hector grumbled something under his breath before taking a drink from his own cup.

“I do agree that killin’ will cause more problems than it will solve.” Arthur sighed heavily, sitting back into his chair and shaping his tone to sound more even-tempered. “I would gladly take yer warriors fer defense, should things go wrong.”

Hector raised his cup, offering a curt nod and a not-so-stony expression.

“Ye seem determined to do this diplomatically from the start, Laird MacDonnell,” Marcus observed lightly.

“Aye,” Arthur agreed. “Just needed to make sure I wasnae thinking too emotionally.”

Duncan shook his head and he spoke up next. “I find it admirable o’ ye. Marcus is right; the wars have gone on fer long enough. The MacCulloh’s may not willingly give up at first, but we’ll stand behind ye, should ye need us.”

He would never admit it out loud, but Arthur was relieved to hear it. Handling the MacCulloh clan wouldn’t be difficult, should he find himself at odds against them. But, it was reassuring to know that he had a group of equally-powerful individuals who valued his peaceful approach.

“Ye really think Olivia’s clan would do her harm, Arthur?” Marcus suddenly asked.

He did. He truly did, and it burned Arthur to think so.

“Until she’s made Lady MacDonnell, I wouldnae expect anything less.

Even after we’re wed, I expect some resistance.

” But at least then, she’ll have a proper army standing behind her.

She would be protected by a clan that actually cared for her.

“She’ll be well-watched within my keep,” Duncan swore.

“Ye’ve proven that without a shadow o’doubt,” Arthur reassured.

“I’d like to extend me own resources fer the cause as well,” Marcus added. “Me own keep’s the closest to MacCulloh’s; we’ll keep our communications open, see if we overhear any plots or ploys from Olivia’s kinfolk.”

“That’s if they manage to organize outside of a rioting mob,” Hector mused, the scowl of his brow having softened slightly over the course of their meeting.

He then polished his mug off next before offering a smirk.

“Just let me ken if any heads need knockin’ around,” he declared.

“The Laird o’MacKimmon willnae leave his allies without aid. ”

“Then it’s decided,” Arthur said, raising his cup into the air as the other lairds followed suit. “Come hell or high water, the union between MacCulloh and MacDonnell is set in stone.”