Page 37 of The Highlander’s Fake Wife (Legacy of Highland Lairds #4)

T he next few days were a familiar flurry of activity as preparations were made for the wedding.

Maids tidied and decorated the castle with the clan colors of both MacCulloh and MacDonnell, while members of the keep took stock of food stores and tankards of mead.

Arthur felt a touch guilty, asking so much of his friend after he’d just spent so many resources, but Duncan assured him that a laird always took care of his allies.

“Besides,” he added with a sly wink. “I’ll just borrow yer keep when Rosie comes of age. She talks nonstop about a wedding near the sea.”

And on the subject of Rosie, she was an absolute force to be reckoned with. While initially scared over Olivia’s state of being, she became quickly fixated on the wedding soon-to-be. Constantly, she stuck herself beside Arthur’s side, asking a million and one questions about the ceremony.

“Why are you having yer wedding here, Uncle Arthur?” Rosie asked, her new deerhound pup circling excitedly around her with an old, knotted rope in his mouth.

Arthur glanced up from the keep’s ledgers, offering a somewhat strained smile. “Ye daenae want us to be married at yer home, Rosie?”

“N-Nay! I mean, I do!” Rosie giggled, grasping for her pup’s toy before engaging in a sudden game of tug-of-war. “Fergus, leggo! I’m trying to throw it fer ye!”

Fergus growled between his teeth, twisting his head as if to try and wrench the rope free.

“I just–I already said goodbye, an’ ye came back so quickly…

” Rosie released her grasp, Fergus dancing away triumphantly with the rope between his teeth.

“Maither said everything was alright, but Faither looked…” she paused, brow furrowing as she tried to find the right word.

Rosie then glanced Arthur’s way, gasping and pointing towards her uncle.

“Like that! Like something bad happened!”

Arthur quickly wiped his face with his hand, doing his best to push away any lingering thoughts of dread.

“Ah, well…we lairds have quite a bit to worry about, rosebush. It’s hard not to have a face…

like this.” He wished he had something reflective to look into.

He could’ve sworn he looked fairly upbeat, but if someone as young as Rosie had noticed… ?

“Is Auntie ‘Livia okay?”

Arthur blinked, glancing back at Rosie with a somber smile.

He held out his arms, allowing her to jump into his arms and snuggle beneath the crook of his neck.

“Truth be told, Rosie, we had a bit of a scary run-in with some not-nice people. Folk who wanted to do Olivia harm.” He sighed lightly, patting the girl’s back as she grasped him tighter.

“Ye made sure they didnae, right, Uncle?” Rosie asked.

Arthur nodded gently. “Of course. Me an’ Maesie worked together.”

Rosie glanced off towards the nearby hearth, making a slight face as her own pup chewed on his rope and growled playfully. “I hope Fergus can be as brave an’ strong as Maesie is.”

“Wit’ proper training, he will be,” Arthur reassured. “And remember; yer faither will do everything he can to protect ye while he’s here.”

Rosie’s brow furrowed, visibly confused. “Is he goin’ somewhere, Uncle Arthur?”

Arthur bit his lip; he’d spoken far too out of turn.

Maybe he believed his destiny lied in death, but Duncan had his own plans for the future.

This wasn’t his place to speak, nor was a child the proper person to speak of such things.

“Ah, no, Rosie. I just meant that he’s…” Good God, how was he supposed to dig his way out of this mess?

“He’s…he loves ye very much Rosie. And he’ll make sure nothing bad happens to ye. ”

Rosie giggled lightly. “Of course he will! He’s me Faither, and that’s what Faithers do.” She hugged Arthur around the neck, exhaling loudly as she shifted in his grasp. “I’m glad he’s me faither, and I’m glad yer me uncle.”

Arthur rubbed her back softly, mind in a frenzy over Rosie’s words. “I’m…glad yer me niece, rosebush.”

It wasn’t long before Arthur’s family arrived at Marsden keep.

Olivia, wrapped tightly in her arisaid, felt such intense relief as her mother crossed the castle’s drawbridge.

She could barely keep herself together as everyone dismounted, immediately rushing to her mother for an embrace once she was off her steed.

“G-Gracious, Olivia!” Olivia’s mother happily returned the gesture, though broke apart soon after to inspect her daughter. “Are ye alright? Ye werenae hurt, were ye?”

“Nay, m-maither,” Olivia stammered. “Arthur–he didnae let anything happen to me.”

Elspeth appeared next, panic wrought across her face as she, too, pulled Olivia into a hug.

“Olivia! I cannae believe it–when Duncan’s kin came to the keep, I thought the worse had happened–!

” she shook her head, grasping Olivia’s face gently with a relieved sigh.

“I’m so glad yer safe, sweetness. And, Arthur… ?”

Olivia offered as reassuring a smile as she could manage. “He’s alright. Poor òr got the worst of it, but the stablehands say he’ll make a full recovery.”

“Olivia!” Flora was the last to call out, though she looked to be struggling to get down from her horse.

Nathan was immediately at her side, carefully lifting her by the waist before setting her gently on the ground.

She tried to sprint for Olivia, but her husband put a hand against her shoulder, flashing her a stern look.

“Ye need to rest,” he instructed. “The ride wasnae easy in yer state. If anything,”

“Ooh, daenae start wit me again,” Flora huffed. “I wasnae going to miss my braither’s wedding, and nay leave my sister-in-law without a familiar face!””

Nathan’s expression softened, but his hand remained against her shoulder. “Take it slow. We daenae need to cause more of a stir.”

Flora nodded, making great effort to walk Olivia’s way. Once she was close enough, of course, she immediately grabbed Olivia for a third hug.

“Y-Ye all are wonderful fer makin’ the long journey over here,” Olivia sniffed. “And–and especially with ye feeling so poor in health, Flora.”

Flora flashed a somewhat cheeky grin. “Aye, well, being pregnant will make ye feel sick no matter where ye are.”

Olivia’s mouth dropped open, a wide smile immediately crossing her face. “Oh, Flora–! Yer husband was right; ye shouldnae have made the trip!”

“Ooh, I daenae need ye scolding me, either,” Flora huffed, looping her arm around Olivia’s. “Now, come on! I heard Katie was still around; she an’ Alison owe me a sit-down, an’ I would kill fer a cup o’ tea in me hand right now.”

Olivia chuckled weakly; she was grateful for the impromptu distraction.

It had been a long few days of wedding preparations, of crossing Arthur’s path and having to make decisions over their wedding.

The food to cook for the feast afterward, the flowers to decorate the hall with; appearing as a loving couple was taking its emotional toll, and she was only just starting to feel capable of socializing again.

The day stretched on without incident, though Olivia noticed how quickly the wedding preparations were being finished.

She occasionally bumped into either mothers, both completely in control of organizing their respective tasks.

While Elspeth ensured the halls sparkled and were decorated in the best finery, Olivia’s own mother kept the fires stoked and the pots boiling, delighted to share her latest soup combinations or baked good experiments.

“This one is some shortbread using bilberries for a spread,” Olivia’s mother gushed. “And I tried using grouse instead of hare for the meat in this pottage.”

“Oh, gracious, Katherine,” Flora beamed, her spot in the dining room overflowing with dishes. “I’m nearly filled to burstin!”

“Aye, but yer eatin’ fer two now,” Olivia’s mother beamed. “And ye’ve been traveling on nothing but rations fer two days.”

“Maither,” Olivia chuckled, having just managed to finish her previous pottage bowl. “Yer gonna scare poor Flora off.”

Flora quickly shook her head, a hand resting on her stomach. “Oh, nay; I think it’s very sweet of ye maither, especially when she has so much to do fer the wedding.”

Olivia’s mother was practically glowing at Flora’s praise, and Olivia couldn't help but faintly smile. At the very least, some folks were enjoying themselves; even if thoughts of her wedding still filled her with dread, she wouldn’t ruin it for her poor mother.

If anything, she deserved an exciting goal to work towards.

And, in a strange twist of fate, Olivia never had to explain the ruse to her.

Her mother would forever assume the betrothal was true from the start, and Olivia couldn’t take that away from here.

“I’ll take yer shortbread if ye daenae want it!” Rosie cried out, suddenly appearing from beneath the table as her tiny hand grasped at the cookie.

“Ye’re nay going to share it with Bonnie, are ye?” Olivia inquired. “Ye ken Katie said no more sweets today fer her.”

“O-Of course not!” Rosie promised. “Laird’s promise.

” Flora then passed the cookie to Rosie, who quickly squirreled it away in her dress’ apron.

“Uh, for no reason at all, though, I’m gonna go eat this somewhere else.

” Without allowing the women to reply, Rosie ran off through the hallway, the clattering paws of Fergus scampering to catch up.

“That lass is a menace,” Olivia’s mother chuckled.

“I hope me own bairn’s just the same,” Flora beamed.

Finally, nighttime fell upon Marsden’s keep, and everyone retired for the evening.

Both mothers practically crawled to bed with how tired they looked, and Flora and Nathan had long-since retired after dinner.

Olivia was certain she was the only soul still awake, and thus, she slipped on a robe and slipped out her door, strolling the silent halls in search of sleep.

She found herself wandering past Arthur’s door, and her pace slowed, pausing directly in front of it.

For a moment, her hand lingered at her side, fingers flexing between a flat-palm and a fist. They had spent the last day or so together, yes, but hadn’t a proper moment to simply speak between each other.

To have a discussion about his…proclamation.

With a deep breath, Olivia curled her hand into a fist and knocked gently against Arthur’s door, listening intently for his reply.

Something grunted on the other side, and–taking that as a sign to come in–Olivia opened the door.

But immediately regretted it upon entering the room.

Evidently, she wasn’t the only person who couldn’t sleep.

Arthur appeared to have been previously pacing about his room, a few papers and books scattered across his provided desk and chair.

Whatever sound she had heard from him seemed to be murmurings under his breath, ones that had come to a pause upon her intrusion.

It became quickly evident that the laird of MacDonnell had not, in fact, invited her, as he only wore a pair of trousers for clothing.

Olivia let out a panic squeal, quickly covering her eyes to try and give Arthur a modicum of modesty.

Though, she admittedly hadn’t covered too quickly, having taken in the man’s defined muscle and toned chest. And the hair–a part of herself wanting nothing more than to run her hands through it.

Maybe convince him to loosen his trousers a bit, bear witness to that stiffness she’d felt against her during their romp through the rowan grove.

“Uh…Olivia?”

Olivia shook her head, trying to remove such lustful thoughts from her mind. “S-Sorry! Ah, sorry, Arthur–I thought ye had invited me in, b-but,”

She could hear Arthur chuckling, his hands gently grasping her own as he lowered them from her face. “’Tis alright, selkie. We’ll be married soon enough; ye’ll be seeing me shirtless quite often.”

Olivia’s face lit up brightly, hands trembling somewhat in his grasp.

“Oh…of course, only if ye ask fer it,” Arthur added, hastily pulling his hands back to his side as he moved towards his desk, pulling a free chair forward as he offered Olivia to sit.

She still felt a bit dizzy over seeing the man without shirt, and thus, decided that sitting down would be her best option, lest her legs gave out beneath her.

The pair sat quietly beside each other, and Olivia wondered if, perhaps, Arthur was waiting for her to speak first. She opened her mouth to begin, though found herself lacking the words. What did she want to say to him? Where did she begin?

Arthur seemed to sense this, immediately launching into an apology. “I ken this isnae the life ye imagined, Olivia, but I cannae think of another way to keep ye safe. I feel responsible fer yer well-being–I owe ye this much, given all I’ve made ye do for me.”

Olivia’s face softened, the sour tang in the back of her throat beginning to ebb away.

“I…I appreciate it, Arthur. I’m truly touched by everything ye’ve done fer me.

Ye could have left me in that tarn, or sent me on me way once ye learned of my affiliations…

” She sighed softly, hand raising to take Arthur’s once more.

“I just…wish ye’d reconsider havin’ a family with me.

Being a maither–it’s all I’ve ever wanted. ”

Arthur looked so crestfallen after hearing her words. “I ken, selkie. And…and I would love nothing more than to fulfill that wish.”

“Then, why–?”

“I spoke a bit wit Rosie today,” Arthur suddenly said.

“We talked about her faither, how he’d always be there for her.

And–and I almost let it slip that, one day, her faither may not return home.

And that brief panic in her eye…” Arthur shook his head, squeezing Olivia’s hands tightly.

“Daenae make me cause such despair in me own children’s eyes. I couldnae live with meself.”

She understood. Of course she did; Olivia would crumple if anything ever caused Rosie discomfort. And yet, her own despair remained tightly wound in her chest.

“I promise to make married life fun fer ye,” Arthur promised, offering his signature wink, though it lacked its usual vigor. “We’ll travel about the highlands, discover lands untouched by any clan. And I’ll fight to make sure ye can see it all; I’ll make these lands safe for ye.”

Olivia allowed herself to be pulled in for an embrace, her hands running across Arthur’s back as he held her close.

She wanted nothing more than to remain in his grasp, to be content with what he was asking.

And maybe, some day, she would be. But tonight, she let herself be held by her soon-to-be husband, mourning the family she would never have.