Page 10 of The Highlander’s Hellion Wife (Legacy of Highland Lairds #1)

10

“ D o ye think he’ll be funny? What if he doesnae like corn? How about…”

Rosie fired off question after question while Alison listened, seated at the dining table.

The bairn had not stopped chattering from the second they had walked out of their chambers. She seemed ecstatic that her father had returned and would not cease asking questions about the man she had just met.

“Mayhap,” Alison answered, “all of those are things ye’ll have to find out for yerself.”

Rosie nodded, looking momentarily serious before launching into a fresh litany of questions.

Ye truly dinnae ken a thing about yer own husband.

The realization bothered Alison, even when she knew it should not. It was not her fault that she knew nothing about the man to whom she was married.

A wife should ken her husband!

She wanted to strangle Duncan and wrench from him all the answers to Rosie’s questions, along with more than a few of her own.

The sound of footsteps echoed down the hall, announcing the arrival of someone rather large. Alison knew who it was before she even turned to see her husband walking into the room.

She had not seen him since their exchange in the courtyard. She knew she had told him to clean himself up, but she had not given any further thought to whether he had heeded her advice.

Apparently, he had.

Duncan stopped in the doorway, his blue eyes widening when he spotted his wife and daughter sitting at the table. Rosie stopped babbling upon noticing her father standing there, watching them.

Alison’s stomach dropped at the sight of him.

Dear God, he’s handsome.

The thought came to her mind before she could stop it. However, it was indisputable that Duncan was breathtakingly handsome. She had thought so even when he still looked like an absolute barbarian.

But now? Now, his skin was clean and gleaming, and his dark hair was neatly combed back and secured with a leather strap into a low bun at the nape of his neck. The unruly beard that had concealed most of his face had been shaven and tamed into a neat stubble that framed his chiseled jaw and chin.

Now that Alison could see most of his face, she was lost in just how lovely it was. His sumptuous, plump lips, unobstructed white teeth, and twinkling eyes were now hers to gaze upon and enjoy without distractions.

I had kenned his lips were plump after our kiss this mornin’.

She felt herself smile and blush furiously as she remembered him crushing her body to his own before devouring her mouth as she stood pinned against the bedchamber wall.

Duncan cleared his throat while walking into the room, giving Alison a moment to shake her head and banish all images of his lips on hers from her mind.

She had assumed that he would take the seat at the head of the table, but she was shocked when he took the seat directly next to hers. The chairs were arranged so close together that if he moved, their shoulders would brush.

He just wants to sit across from his daughter.

Alison looked lovingly at the bairn, who was now seated across from both of them.

Rosie beamed, but they were all spared from having to make conversation as the servants came into the room, each of them carrying a dish.

Alison gave her husband a sidelong glance, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard and stared at the food being laid out before him.

“I didnae ken any of yer favorites,” she explained. “So I had the cooks make a little bit of everythin’.”

Duncan nodded. “Thank ye.”

“Do ye like corn?” Rosie’s voice cut through the clattering of dishes.

Lord, here we go. Give me strength.

Duncan fixed his blue eyes on his daughter, and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. When he did, his shoulder brushed against Alison’s, the light touch sending tingles of delight through her.

“Aye,” he answered with a stiff, curt nod. “’Tis one of me favorites.”

Rosie’s eyes went wide. “Mine too! And creamed spinach. Maither says ‘tis a nasty vegetable, but I like it with a little pepper and rosemary.”

“Well, yer maither is right on that one,” Duncan answered with a chuckle.

His deep, gentle voice stirred the butterflies in Alison’s stomach. She longed to stand up and move to a different seat that was not so near him. She ceased thinking whenever he came that close to her.

But she knew if she stood up and moved at that moment, it would only raise eyebrows and questions—questions that she was not yet prepared to answer.

“Did ye hear that, Maither?” Rosie’s question cut through Alison’s rampant thoughts.

It was only then that Alison realized she had lost the thread of their conversation. The servants had gone, and the table was laden with more food than three people could ever eat.

Clearly, Rosie and Duncan had been having a conversation, one that they thought Alison had been paying attention to. But she had been overly preoccupied by her husband’s proximity.

“Did I hear what, lassie?” she asked, knowing there was no way to pretend that she had been paying attention.

“Faither likes his carrots with honey! Just like ye!”

Alison’s cheeks grew warm. “Is that so?”

She felt Duncan’s eyes on her, but she resisted the urge to turn to look at him, instead keeping her eyes on her daughter.

“Aye, honey and a wee bit of salt,” Duncan’s deep voice rumbled from beside her.

“I only like mine with salt. Salt and butter!” Rosie announced, before launching into a speech about why she thought salt and butter was the better option.

Alison sensed the instant Duncan’s eyes left the side of her face, and she allowed herself a moment to focus on breathing normally.

Get yerself together, lass . Ye cannae fall apart just because the brute had his wits about him enough to trim his beard! This is still the man who abandoned ye.

At that final thought, Alison straightened her spine. She would not allow herself to succumb to his charms and good looks. She only had to get herself through the next few days. Then, when he left again, chasing some war or another, everything would return to normal.

The thought comforted her as she reached forward and began serving herself some of the roasted potatoes from the plate in front of her. From then on, it was easier to occupy herself with the act of eating.

Listening intently as daughter and father chattered, she found herself slightly lulled out of the anxiety that had consumed her only a few minutes ago.

This is for the best . When he leaves, Rosie will at least have gotten to ken her faither a wee bit better. Then, she’ll be able to understand when I tell her he’s away, protectin’ us. That will serve her well.

She held onto that thought as they ate dinner. Eventually, when their bellies were full and their plates were empty, the servants reentered the dining hall and cleared away the platters, plates, and cutlery.

Rosie rose from the table and turned to her mother with a wide smile on her face. “Do ye think the Laird can join us on our nighttime walk?” she asked enthusiastically.

Alison’s stomach sank. She was suddenly very regretful that she had eaten so much.

“He’s nae the Laird to ye,” she quickly corrected as her mind determined what to say next. “He’s yer faither, and ‘tis all right for ye to call him as such. As for the walk…”

She turned to glance at Duncan, who had already pushed back his chair while she remained sitting. It was hard to look at his face from that angle, but she could see his furrowed brow and could sense the confusion and indecision in his stance.

“If yer faither wants to join us, then he absolutely can. We should work hard over the next few days while he’s here to make sure he feels welcome.”

“Yay!” Rosie jumped up and down, clapping her hands excitedly.

“What do ye mean by the next few days?” Duncan asked, frowning deeply.

Alison felt her cheeks redden with embarrassment. She opened her mouth to explain when she caught sight of one of the maids walking into the hall.

Duncan must have heard her approach because he turned and addressed her.

“Will ye take me daughter to her rooms?” he requested, his voice laced with an emotion that Alison could not place.

While his attention was diverted, Alison used that moment to finally stand up. She smoothed down the skirts of her dress with shaking hands. She had no idea why she was suddenly feeling so unsettled.

She had always known that the Laird could return and insert himself into the routines that she and Rosie had created, but as the years passed, it became less and less likely to ever happen. Furthermore, the more time passed, the more her husband began to seem like a figment of her imagination rather than an actual person.

The thought of having him in their daily lives was well and truly knocking her off her game.

“But our walk!” Rosie protested as the maid rushed forward to grab her hand.

Alison looked at her, giving her a soft smile. “’Tis all right,” she assured the child, whose expression had turned petulant. “Go with Effie now, and I’ll come get ye in a wee bit. We’ll take our walk then.”

Rosie’s doubtful eyes flitted between her parents. Eventually, she nodded, and Alison sent up a prayer of thanks that her daughter allowed herself to be led out of the room.

“I think she gets her stubbornness from ye,” Alison joked as Effie and Rosie left the room.

Her attempt at a joke fell flat, eliciting no response from Duncan as he turned to face her. She did not know what to do or how to recover while he stared at her in expressionless, utter silence.

She did not think her anxiety could get any worse until Duncan opened his mouth and finally spoke.

“We need to talk.”