Page 34 of The Highlander’s Fake Wife (Legacy of Highland Lairds #4)

O livia was in a daze the next morning…or, whenever both she and Arthur deemed it proper to finally rise from bed.

As romantic as he’d been, allowing her to doze in his arms beneath the rowan trees, it wasn’t exactly the most restful of sleeps.

Of course, there were other reasons Olivia had trouble sleeping; as soon as she met Arthur’s gaze over breakfast, a warm twinge rippled throughout her midsection, and it took everything she had not to buckle under the weight of her own body.

“Gracious, Olivia,” Alison teased, arms supporting Forrester as she helped him nurse. “Ye look a bit out o’ sorts! Dance too hard during the celebration?”

“A-Aye,” Olivia replied, glancing to catch Arthur still smirking her way. “Something like that.”

Once breakfast had concluded and the dishes cleared, it was time for Olivia to begin packing for the journey home.

Arthur seemed to have been ready since last night, propped against her room’s wall as he watched her scurry about.

Occasionally, Olivia would need to bend over and pull something out from a lower drawer, and she was acutely aware of a certain laird staring intently at her backside.

“I ken it were perfect,” Arthur commented lightly. “But I would have killed to see yer soft rear without that gown coverin’ it.”

She let out an embarrassed squeak, shooting up straight as she practically slammed the drawer shut with her foot. “Arthur Ross!”

He chuckled lightly, eyes still lingering across the length of her body.

“Ye’re an absolute rake, ye ken that?”

His chuckling turned to laughter, and he quickly crossed the room, catching Olivia’s waist mid-step before spinning her around. “I dinnae hear ye object to it last night, selkie.”

Olivia’s face flushed terribly, and for a moment, she considered telling him off for being so bold, for grasping her without the slightest hesitancy or permission.

But, something about his hands around her waist felt so natural…

and, in truth, she worried for the time where such intimate moments would end.

Arthur seemed to catch his mistake, though, and began to pull away from her. “Ah, I–suppose I forgot about yer rule fer a moment, there.”

Much to Olivia’s surprise, her hands acted on their own, grasping his and setting them back against her hip. A mischievous smile crossed his face, and Olivia couldn’t help but turn away.

“Ye ken we daenae have time fer another go,” Arthur teased.

Now she shoved playfully against his chest, face hotter than the sun in summertime. “Och, ye scamper outta here, ye–ye wee ugsome troll! I never pack wit ye distractin’ me!”

More laughter rumbled from Arthur’s chest as he left the room, leaving Olivia to stand indignantly, hands crossed tightly against her chest. Though, if she hadn’t crossed them, she was certain they would grow limp at her side, tingling with desire to simply jump into bed and, as Arthur put it, ‘had another go’.

Instead, she had little Rosie skip into her room next, and while Olivia certainly wasn’t going to send the girl away, she was… a different sort of distracting.

Rosie’s eyes watered the entire time Olivia packed.

Not that she would willingly admit to being upset, of course; whenever she brought it up, the little girl simply wiped her face and protested loudly (something about lairds and ladies not crying over such foolish things).

But as Olivia stood before the guest room’s mirror, ensuring her hair was tied tightly up and out of her face, she finally heard the faintest sniffling coming from behind an armchair.

“Oh, Rosie-dear…” Olivia moved away from the mirror, circling the chair as what looked to be a pile of quilts sitting atop of it.

She gently removed the layers, a soft smile crossing her lips at the sad scene.

Rosie had her legs curled tightly against her chest, feet propped against the seat of the chair as fat tears rolled down her flushed face.

“I–I’m nae crying,” she insisted, smearing the palm of her hand across her face. “Only wee bairns cry, like F-Forrester.”

Olivia sat across the ground, patting her lap gently as an invitation to Rosie.

The little girl wasted no time scrambling down off the chair and into Olivia’s lap, head pressed against her chest as tears soaked her vest. “There isnae a thing wrong about feeling sad, love,” she insisted.

“That just tells me how much ye care fer us.”

Rosie nodded, hands reaching out to clutch Olivia’s. “Will ye visit soon?”

Olivia’s smile turned to a smirk, and she leaned in to whisper something conspiratorially into Rosie’s ear. “Actually, I hear Arthur’ll be invitin’ all his dear friends to our weddin’. So ye’ll be visiting us very soon, Rosie.”

Rosie’s face immediately brightened against her tear-stained face. “Really? Are ye marrying right when ye get home?”

Olivia laughed, squeezing the girl into a tight hug. “Aye, such an impatient wee imp ye are! I would like to sleep a night in me bed, first.”

Rosie’s lips pursed thoughtfully, brow furrowing as she genuinely considered Olivia’s request. “Well…alright. But ye have to get married the next day, then. No, wait–it takes forever to ride to Uncle Arthur’s keep!

Ye have to wait until I get there, first. Besides,” she added matter-of-factly.

“It’ll give me time to teach Forrester the basics o’social edi–edakeh–? ”

“Etiquette,” Olivia offered with a chuckle. “And, yes, it certainly would. I do believe that is a wise course of action, my lady.”

Rosie flashed a toothy grin, clearly thrilled to be called as such. “Write to me when ye’ve arrived back home, all right?”

“I think that can be arranged.” Olivia gave Rosie one more squeeze before letting her go. “It was very nice to meet ye. Thank ye again fer inviting us to yer ceilidh.”

Rosie offered a formal curtsy in response, only to burst into giggles and jump into Olivia’s embrace. “See ye soon, Auntie ‘Livia.”

“See ye soon, Rosie dear.”

“Ye’ll write to use when the date’s settled on, Arthur?” Alison inquired for the dozenth time that morning.

Arthur made a show of rolling his eyes, leaning close into Duncan’s ear and whispering loudly, “Yer wife seems far more eager for me marriage than I do, Duncan.”

“Aye, well, ye made us wait a long time fer this,” Duncan staged-whispered back, earning an approving nod and smile from his wife. The lairds separated soon after, Arthur reaching for the reins of his steed as Olivia trotted up beside him.

“Thank ye again fer hosting us so early,” Olivia began.

“Ooh, nay bother, hen! Just remember that kindness when we decide to pop in fer an unexpected visit.” Alison flashed a playful smile, lifting Rosie up and propping her against her hip.

“Sorry Forrester cannae say good-bye!” Rosie apologized.

“I’d be surprised if he did,” Olivia laughed. “Be awfully impressive, hearing one so young speak so eloquently.”

“Aye; I suppose ye’ll just have to say an extra-goodbye fer him, Rosie,” Arthur said.

Rosie took the request to heart, waving both hands and shouting loudly well-after the pair had directed their horses to the entrance of the keep.

A few kinsfolk wished well-travels as they passed, and soon, Arthur was back out beneath the wide-open sky, Maesie running at his heel and Olivia’s steed following closely behind.

They rode up the peaks and over the hillside, the pathway all-too familiar, yet somehow brand new, what with the company he kept.

They broke midday to water the horses, Arthur occupying himself with double-checking supplies and ensuring they were still on the quickest route homeward.

Every so often, he’d cast a glance over his shoulder, catching Olivia staring back at him with Maesie circling curiously around her.

She’d gathered the hem of her dress to act as a makeshift basket, carrying a number of forageables found within the bounds of their makeshift camp.

“Did ye wish to–?”

“Was there something ye wanted to–?”

Both paused, mid-sentence, and Arthur awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah…ye go first, selkie.”

“Nay, that’s alright,” Olivia insisted. “I…I thought ye were trying to get me attention.”

“Ah…no. I wasnae.” Arthur paused, then hastily added afterward, “I mean, I wasnae, but, I noticed ye had no bow on yer back.”

Olivia glanced over her shoulder, as if suddenly realizing it herself. “Oh. Aye; ye told me to bring it wit me if I was to go foraging.”

“Aye. Never ken what nasty thing lurks in the wilds.”

Olivia offered an agreeable smile, shifting her dress so she only needed to hold it up with one hand. Then, she made her way towards Airgiod, unhooking her shortbow and slipping it up and over her head. “Ah–do ye think ye can,”

“Aye, selkie.” Arthur moved to undo the fletcher from Airgiod’s saddle, securing it around Olivia’s chest and giving the cinch a good tug.

He couldn’t help but stare at her bosom for a moment, memories of white petals and sweet darkness washing over him.

Then, he straightened upright, sending Olivia off with a nod.

“Dinnae linger long. I’d like to get riding again soon. ”

Olivia nodded, then turned back into the nearby grove to continue her collection.

Maesie gave her master a befuddled snort, then quickly trotted.

As soon as she was well out of earshot, Arthur let out a groan, head thumping against the side of his horse’s saddle.

òr let out a startled snort, his long neck craning to shoot a stare his way.

“Och; ye dinnae understand, òr.” Arthur sighed as he stroked the creature’s mane.

He was certain a horse couldn’t hope to understand the complicated feelings he held inside of him.

That moment, back within the grove, with Olivia in his arms and the world silently watching above them; Arthur never knew how painful desire could really be.

He wanted that moment to last forever–to be his forever–but even Olivia had realized it by now. That moment amidst the rowans had to stay as such; nothing but a moment in time. One to remember, but never to be repeated.

Olivia kicked a stray rock off the forest path, watching as it bounced into the brush and vanished completely. A slight smile crossed her face as Maesie bounded after it, returning mere moments later with the stone between her teeth. “Ye shouldnae be putting those in yer mouth, ye silly girl.”

Maesie trotted proudly up to Olivia’s feet, dropping the stone as her tail wagged.

Olivia rolled her eyes good-naturedly, giving the dog a full rub-down as she flopped onto her back, exposing her belly for the young woman to stroke.

“If only yer master were as easy to interpret as ye are,” she mused aloud.

“Feelings between folk can be so complicated, Maesie.”

Maesie yipped excitedly, rolling back onto her feet as she gave Olivia’s hand a lick.

“I bet ye’ve had lots of relationships by now,” Olivia chuckled.

“And the pair o’ ye dinnae have to worry about what happened after.

Just thinking about passing Arthur in the castle, or being forced to hold his hand and look longingly at him while his kinfolk are around…

” she sighed, taking a seat on a fallen long as she propped her elbows against her knees, one underneath her chin while the other ensured her forageables didn’t slide off her dress.

“If I’m lucky, maybe his council’ll never be convinced of our love.

Maybe we’ll just…be trapped in this ruse forever? ”

Maesie’s head cocked curiously, padding up beside Olivia before laying down at her feet. She looked upward, bright eyes sparkling with a level of concern Olivia had never seen in an animal before.

“Aye…that wouldnae be fair to either of us, would it?” As much as it hurt to admit, Arthur couldn’t give her the one thing she wanted most in the world.

Spending time around Forrester, playing with little Rosie and the other children…

Olivia was more certain than ever that motherhood was her next big adventure in life.

“And Arthur…” She sighed far louder than before, wistfully staring through the tree’s canopy at the cloudless sky above.

“Well…I’m sure ye ken his fate better than anyone, Maesie.

He cannae give me what I need, and–and I should respect that. ”

Maesie’s tongue lagged out of her mouth, then lapped against Olivia’s arm.

“Alright, alright!” Olivia giggled, petting the dog once more.

“I’ll stop me moping fer now. Suppose we do have another day or so to ourselves.

” Another day to play pretend, awkward as things may have been between them.

With that, Olivia resolved to make the best of it, standing back up and shifting her dress of forageables.

“Now, I’ve found lots o’ hazelnuts, but I’m certain some bilberries are around here, somewhere.

Oh, and dandelions–ah, do ye think Rosie would enjoy learning about forageables, Maesie?

Maybe if I learn the path to Marsden keep on me own,”

She paused, noticing how stiff Maesie’s posture was.

The deerhound’s tail was still as a board, her gaze fixated ahead as the hairs on the hairs on the back of her neck stood upright.

“Maesie?” Olivia tried taking a step towards the beast, only to stagger back as a terrifying snarl ripped free from the deerhound’s throat.

Something sour grew in the pit of Olivia’s stomach, and she immediately dropped her dress, hazelnuts scattering across the forest floor.

Quickly, her bow slipped into her hand, and she notched an arrow in the string, pointing it directly where Maesie had begun to grow.

“Wh-whatever’s there…” Olivia gritted her teeth, resolving to steady her voice as she repeated loudly, “Whatever’s there, ye best come out!

” Every fiber of her being was on fire, and she fought to keep her bow from wobbling.

More than anything, she hoped she was being paranoid.

More than anything, she wanted a grouse to fly out from the brush, a fox to dart out from between the trees.

She would even face down a massive stag, if given the choice.

But the knot in her stomach only grew tighter with each passing second; she already knew what was going to step out from the shade.

And as a familiar man revealed himself at last, it took everything Olivia had not to collapse under the weight of her trembling legs.