Page 33 of The Highlander’s Hellion Wife (Legacy of Highland Lairds #1)

33

D uncan, Arthur, and Evander were seated at the table.

Their three heads were bent together as they whispered excitedly amongst themselves, but once the men spotted her, their animated conversation came to a sudden halt.

“Wife,” Duncan said in greeting, although the word was now laced with a new undertone that sent tingles across her skin. “We have a couple of guests for a few days.”

“Oh!” Her eyebrows shot up at the announcement. “Is that so?”

“Our apologies,” Arthur said, rising from the table. “We should have warned ye.”

Alison bobbed a short, polite curtsy before approaching the table.

Arthur Ross was a large, formidable man, just as Duncan and Evander were. He had long, dark hair and a multitude of scars that she could see from a distance. His good eye was a bright, piercing green. On the other, he wore a black leather eyepatch.

He appeared to possess a calmer demeanor than the other two men.

“’Tis a pleasure to have ye here, my Laird. Any friend of Duncan’s is always welcome,” Alison said as she took her seat.

She was seated directly across from Duncan, and she did not miss the way his eyes roved over her as he admired her in her new dress. Desire smoldered invitingly within the blue depths of his gaze. Alison blushed as a shiver of excitement ran from her neck to her groin.

Just as she was about to ask where Rosie was, praying that her daughter would give her something to do to distract herself from her husband’s sensual gaze, she heard the distant sound of small, running footsteps.

As if conjured by Alison’s thoughts, Rosie burst into the room. Her auburn curls were wild, and her cheeks were red from running all the way to the dining hall.

“Ye little banshee!” Effie’s voice sounded from the corridor, and the maid appeared a moment later. She was holding a brush high in the air as she chased after Rosie.

“I heard that we have visitors!” Rosie chimed in, not stopping to let Effie brush her hair as she threw herself into her seat at the table. “I wanted to come to see for meself.”

Her excited eyes roved over the table, landing first on her father and then on Evander. When she got to Arthur, she stopped.

“What happened to yer eye?” she asked.

Alison groaned with embarrassment. “Rosie!” she whispered in admonishment. They let her get away with a lot of things, but she would not stand for her being rude to guests. “That isnae somethin’ ye go about askin’. Ye must remember to be polite.”

Arthur, however, waived a dismissive hand. He seemed neither offended nor impressed by Rosie’s question, merely accepting it as a fact of his life.

“The lass is curious,” he said, his expression neutral. “That is natural.” He turned his one good eye to Rosie, acid green meeting bright blue. “‘Twas durin’ a fight back when we were all much younger,” he explained. “Me face was cut with a sword, and it ended up nickin’ me eye. It had to be removed.”

Rosie’s eyes went wide. “So, there’s nay eye under yer patch?”

Arthur shook his head. “Nothin’ but skin.”

Alison expected her daughter to be sickened by the news. Her own stomach had churned at the man’s admission. She couldn’t imagine the pain of losing one of her eyes.

But Rosie, however, was undeterred.

“Can I see?” she asked.

Alison blanched. “Rosie!” she barked now, more force filling her voice than ever before.

Rosie finally had the good grace to look ashamed, her child’s mind seeming to finally understand the extent of her rudeness. However, when Alison turned her attention to Arthur, the man seemed utterly unphased.

“Ye have me sincerest apologies,” she stammered, her mind scrambling for anything that she could do to make things right. “She has the same wild imagination as me husband. And the manners of a mule.” She turned back to her daughter. “Rosie, apologize to Laird MacDonnell this instant.”

Rosie opened her mouth, preparing herself for an apology or argument—Alison did not know which—but Arthur waved his hand again.

“It isnae necessary,” he said in the same calm tone. “Like I said, curiosity is natural.” His good eye flicked to Rosie. “And I would show ye, but I dinnae think ‘tis appropriate for the dinner table. I’ll show ye next time.”

He winked at her, and before Alison could repeat her demand that her daughter apologize, the doors at the back of the dining room opened.

The servants spilled out, each one carrying a well-prepared dish that they laid on the table before them. It was much more food than Alison had expected, and she glanced at her husband.

“Did ye tell them to prepare a feast?” she asked, trying to keep her voice low so the other Lairds didn’t overhear her.

“Aye,” he confirmed with a nod. “I did. I wanted to welcome me two best mates.”

“And why, exactly, are yer mates stayin’ with us for a few days?” she could not stop herself from asking.

Duncan scowled. “I have me reasons.”

That was all the answer Alison received before he turned his attention back to his two friends.

The trio resumed conversing, enthusiastically discussing how they would spend the next few days going over plans to revitalize the parts of Duncan’s territory that had been ravaged by the war.

They’re helpin’ us rebuild?

Alison stared at the other two men. Evander had seemed fine enough when she met him, but Arthur seemed rather brutish. However, hearing the three men discuss the ways in which they intended to revitalize the various communities was reassuring.

She turned to Rosie, not wanting to eavesdrop much longer on her husband’s conversation.

The girl’s hair was still wild, and Effie had long since disappeared with her brush once she realized that the room was occupied with not just one laird, but three.

Rosie stared back at her carefully but did not speak.

“Ye ken why I asked ye to be more polite?” Alison asked, figuring that now was as good a time as any to teach her daughter a very important lesson on manners.

Rosie shook her head. “I just wanted to ken why he was wearin’ a patch!” she argued.

Alison scowled.

“Aye, and like the Laird kindly said, yer curiosity is natural,” she assured her. “But ye cannae always ask people about things like that. ‘Tis nae polite. It might hurt their feelings.”

Rosie considered this. “But it would be more polite to pretend it doesnae exist? I have to act like I didnae notice it? Is that nae the same as lyin’? Ye said lyin’ is bad. So, sometimes ‘tis all right to be bad?”

She was staring at Alison quizzically, hurling question after question.

It was then that Alison realized that the Lairds had stopped speaking. She did not know what to do or how to respond.

Although Rosie had made a fair point, Alison knew that she had to impress upon her that she could not continue asking about people’s injuries. Her curiosity, while natural, was still something that had its rightful time and place.

“It depends on what the thing is,” Duncan said unexpectedly, and Alison turned to stare at him. “Things, just like people, arenae all bad or all good. So, sometimes ‘tis all right to do somethin’ ye normally wouldnae do if ‘tis for a good reason.”

“And what is a good reason to lie?” Rosie asked, looking indignant. “Because Maither always says that lyin’ isnae good, and ye should avoid it whenever ye can.”

“And yer maither is quite right,” Duncan answered.

Alison felt a rush of deep affection surging inside her as she observed the tenderness and patience with which he addressed their daughter.

“But,” her husband continued, unaware of the profound emotions blooming in her heart, “as ye grow older, ye’ll learn that sometimes we have to do things we wouldnae normally do. Let’s pretend that I told ye I was goin’ to surprise yer maither with jewelry or flowers. Would ye tell her about it afore I could give it to her?”

Rosie shook her head in earnest. “Nay, I’d never want to ruin the surprise. Maither loves surprises.”

“But ye ken about it. So, would that nae be a lie, since ye ken and didnae tell her?”

Rosie tilted her head to the side, considering her father’s words.

While the Lairds at the table waited for Rosie’s response, Alison examined each man’s expression with great interest.

Arthur’s face was pensive but aloof, much like his tone when he spoke, while Evander seemed highly amused by the lesson Duncan was teaching. Meanwhile, Duncan’s handsome face reflected nothing but calm, reassuring patience as he waited for his daughter’s answer.

Christ, I love him.

Alison’s heart skipped a beat, the revelation shocking her to her very core. She could feel the truth of it—the way the knowledge had instantly shattered her entire world and then built it anew.

She was only afforded a few seconds to process what she now knew to be true before Rosie began to speak.

“I suppose it wouldnae be a bad thing then,” the girl conceded reluctantly. “So, sometimes ‘tis all right to lie or nae tell the truth when it’ll ruin a surprise?”

“Or when the truth is somethin’ that doesnae need to be said, at least nae in that moment,” Duncan clarified. “There is a time and a place for everythin’, lass. And we’ll teach ye the right and wrong of it every step of the way.”

Rosie nodded, accepting her father’s answer as the final platter of food was placed on the table.

The conversation then shifted to the mouthwatering food as they all filled their plates.

The remainder of their dinner was blessedly uneventful, with conversation shifting and flowing easily amongst everyone present.

Evander took it upon himself to teach Rosie a song about the fae, one where they lure naughty, little girls into the woods with trinkets so they can give their own babies to the humans. Alison knew that her daughter would be waking her up in the middle of the night, scared she was about to be lured away by a faerie.

When they were finished, Rosie let out a large, exaggerated yawn and patted her stomach before turning to Alison.

“Maither, I’m tired,” she announced. “Do ye think we might go on our night walk a little earlier tonight?”

Alison nodded.

Their night walks had been a somber affair the past three evenings, since Alison had had trouble keeping up. However, she was feeling much better that evening and was eager to get back to their routine.

She and Rosie excused themselves, leaving the men to their chatter and planning as they exited the dining hall. Rosie took the hand that Alison offered her, holding it gently as they walked.

“Now, remember,” Alison said, her voice gentle as she led her daughter through the castle. “We have to go a wee bit slow. I still cannae get around like I did afore.”

Rosie nodded but did not say a word as they slowly made their way down their usual route.

Alison found that it was more difficult to go up the stairs than to go down, but she was able to lean heavily on the banister for support. They eventually reached the final landing. Rosie, however, remained quiet.

“Is everythin’ all right, lassie?” Alison asked, taking hold of Rosie’s hand once more.

“Are ye happy that Faither is here to stay?” Rosie asked abruptly.

The question caught Alison off guard.

“Of course I am,” she answered quickly. “I will always be happy to have our family together. Why would ye ask that?”

“I’m happy he’s back too,” the child said. “But it means that everythin’ has to change. Will we still be able to go to the village every Tuesday for readin’ and writin’? Will we still go on our night walks? I dinnae want things to change.”

Alison looked down at her daughter, praying for the power to erase the uncertainty from her tiny body.

“I ken that change is scary,” she began, trying to keep her voice soft. Rosie gazed at her with wide, vulnerable eyes. “But change can also be very good. Just look at me and ye. ‘Twas a change when I moved into the castle and became yer maither, and now I love ye more than life itself.”

“Do ye think he’ll still let us do the things we love to do?”

Alison nodded. “Aye. In fact, I think he’ll likely join us while we’re doin’ them.”

Rosie chewed on her bottom lip thoughtfully, the uncertainty not yet fading from her face. “Then why did he nae join us tonight? Or last night?”

“Last night, I wanted to do it meself,” Alison explained. “Since it was the first time I was able to walk on me own. Tonight, he has Laird Kincaid and Laird MacDonnell with him. Did ye want all of them to join us on our walk?”

Rosie shook her head adamantly, prompting Alison to chuckle.

“All right then,” Alison continued. “He wasnae goin’ to leave his friends behind when they came all this way to visit ‘im. But I promise, lass, we’ll be able to do the things we love to do. And soon, yer faither is goin’ to do them too.”

Rosie’s blue eyes shone as she studied Alison, seeming to weigh whether her mother was lying to her or not.

The lass is probably tryin’ to see whether I’m tellin’ her a nice lie like her faither just told her about at supper.

Alison kept her face passive until, finally, Rosie gave her a nod. Most of the apprehension faded from her features, and she tugged on Alison’s hand to lead her further down the corridor, following their nightly route.

Now, only time will tell if that promise makes a liar out of me.