Page 15 of The Laird’s Unwanted Wife (Legacy of Highland Lairds #5)

I t didn’t feel real until the silk was tied around their wrists. Up until that moment, Gerald hadn’t felt fully engaged in the ceremony, hadn’t felt as if he were currently being married to the sister of his once best friend.

But as the snow-white ribbon was brought out, and as he wrapped it around Aileen’s wrist and spoke his promises of loyalty and protection … it all came to him at once. Gerald Buchanan was now married. The Beast of Braeriach had, in a sense, been collared at last.

He glanced toward the crowd, briefly skimming the subtle cross expressions amidst the MacGunn’s council while his own people seemed thrilled.

Even Ms. Blair offered a rare, wry smile.

But it was Mollie’s reaction he was truly interested in, and from what he could see, the little girl was absolutely delighted to finally be properly part of the MacLiddel Clan.

“Thank ye again, Gerald,” Aileen whispered as she finished wrapping the silk around his own wrist. “For all ye’ve done for us.”

He nodded, a burning heat swelling in the depths of his chest. But for once, it didn’t come from a source of anger. Pride, perhaps? To be given recognition for the powerful laird he was, able to take in those of a traitorous family and make them beloved in his clan?

Yes, Gerald thought as he and his new wife presented themselves to the crowd, all now standing with thunderous applause.

That must be it .

The feast began as the sun sank below the snowbanks, and it continued well after the sky had darkened to its twilight hue.

Gerald’s staff seemed thrilled to be included in the celebration, many taking advantage of their new, unfettered access to the higher quality stores of whisky.

Aileen seemed equally enchanted by their revelry, hiding a smile behind her hand as she used the other to get Gerald’s attention.

She pointed him toward one of the tables farther back, and he watched as both Ms. Blair and Sarah seemed to have gotten into a contest of drinks. “Yer maid better be cautious,” Gerald chuckled lightly. “Ms. Blair may look old, but she had to handle me and me brither growing up all on her own.”

Laughter bubbled up from Aileen’s throat, and Gerald found himself enjoying the sound far more than expected.

He recalled his order of separation, his insistence on maintaining an arm’s length between them.

It suddenly seemed a far more difficult standard to maintain. “Where is Mollie?” he suddenly asked.

“Oh, gracious,” Aileen giggled, her own goblet fixed in her hand as she took a sip. “The poor thing hardly made it through dinner. Sarah insisted she could tuck her in, but I did manage to say goodnight.”

“Ye didnae wish to go with her?” Gerald inquired.

Aileen set her goblet aside, suddenly looking quite sheepish. “I didnae think ye’d appreciate me leavin’ yer side. This night is as much for yerself as it is for me.”

It was an unexpectedly touching sentiment. Gerald blinked, taking his own goblet and drinking deeply in an attempt to recollect himself. “Well, daenae worry yerself next time. Mollie’s needs will always come before me own.”

That seemed to catch Aileen by surprise, and she quite suddenly found her dinner far more interesting to stare at.

Even so, Gerald could see a flush beginning to spread across her cheeks, unable to stop himself from chuckling once more.

Gracious, but she truly didn’t expect any kindness from anyone.

“If ye dinnae me mind asking, ye dinnae seem too … interested in heirs yourself.” Aileen’s face reddened further, and she quickly took a drink from her cup.

Once she set it aside, Aileen scrunched her face slightly, as if trying to forcefully draw upon her reserve of courage.

“Yet, ye treat Mollie as if she were yer own. Why is that?”

Why was that? Such a simple question, but as Gerald tried to think up an answer, he drew upon a blank.

He furrowed his brow, taking a moment to genuinely consider the question.

“I … suppose in a way, she reminds me o’meself.

When I was her age,” He clarified with a slight chuckle, “Not that I were ever a wee lass at some point.”

That got a good giggle out from Aileen. He quite liked hearing the sound. “The thought o’ye in a gown is certainly somethin’, dear husband.”

He laughed as well, shaking his head as he continued on with his explanation.

“I was the youngest o’me family, an’ I have fond memories o’playin’ wit’ me brither.

The games he’d come up wit’—the way he’d treat me as if I were a proper man like him—meant the world to me.

” Gerald smiled, though it carried a bit of a somber weight to it.

“I dinnae have the chance to thank him fer that. To take his example an’ be a great uncle to me nieces an’ nephews.

So … I wish to give that, instead, to Mollie. ”

“Even though she isnae yer kin?” Oh, but the sorrow in Aileen’s voice; this was the first proper time Gerald had brought up his deceased brother.

The future children that never came to pass.

Such a thought would typically drag him into a fuming despair, but …

he was alright. He felt able to talk of him with his new wife.

“Mollie is me kin,” Gerald clarified gently. “An’ so are ye, now.”

“Me Laird?”

Whatever Aileen had wanted to say was cut off as one of MacGunn’s council members approached their table. His head nodded in respect, his gaze completely fixated on Gerald and seemingly ignoring his wife’s presence entirely. The slight irked him, but Gerald let it pass. For now.

“I am Alastair Barclay, me Laird. One of the top councilmen for Clan MacGunn.” Even with his head bent low, Gerald caught the tail end of a smile on the older man’s face.

He held back a scoff, instead crossing his arms loosely against his chest. What Alastair had to smile about, he couldn’t say for certain.

There was no pride to be had for aiding a traitor, even if done unknowingly.

“Thank ye again for taking the journey up to MacLiddel’s keep,” Gerald began. “Yer presence today will only further strengthen the union between our two clans.”

“Aye, I couldnae agree more!” Alastair practically crooned. “It was a noble thing ye did, offerin’ yer aid in our greatest time of need. My personal guard told me it was ye who found the new Lady MacLiddel hidden away in the castle of the late Laird MacGunn?”

Aileen shifted in her seat, looking visibly uncomfortable. “Aye,” Gerald replied carefully. “And it was yer men who tried to take her from me.”

Alastair laughed nervously; it sounded like old paper crinkling to Gerald’s ears.

“Ah, aye. I heard of that as well. Rest assured, me Laird, that disciplinary actions were taken against that man soon after I was made aware of his transgressions. We arenae a people who bite the hand that offers its aid.”

Gerald frowned slightly, leaning further back in his chair.

“A wise sentiment, councilman. Just a shame yer late laird didnae share it.” It was obvious he’d struck a nerve, but he had to hand it to Alastair’s poise.

If he was upset at such blatant disrespect toward Marcus, the older man refused to let it show.

“Aye. A shame indeed.” Alastair cleared his throat loudly, once more offering a bow of his head. “Well, I thank ye again for the hospitality, me Laird. The rooms provided for us councilmen tonight are quite splendid; ye went to quite a bit of work to accommodate us at the last moment.”

“It was nay bother,” Gerald insisted, his patience growing thin. “I wouldnae wish ye to brave the wintry landscape at nighttime.”

“Aye, well, there’s that, certainly,” Alastair agreed. “Though it would be quite the bother to have traveled all this way only for the sheets to be sent via courier.”

Aileen audibly choked on her food, bending over and sputtering loudly. Gerald set a hand on her back, rubbing it gently as she took a large gulp of water. “What nonsense are ye speakin’ of, councilman?”

Alastair offered an awkward grin directly at the Laird. “Well, me Laird?—”

“The Lady of MacLiddel sits beside me,” Gerald growled dangerously.

“And ye have nae acknowledged her once amidst this tedious exchange.” That familiar anger bubbled in his chest, and if a long table wasn’t placed before him, Gerald was certain he would have already had the old man’s neck in his hand.

“Of … of course.” Alastair turned fully to face Aileen, still recovering from her sudden choking fit. “I do apologize, Lady MacLiddel. I had falsely assumed ye had nay interest in the topic of discussion.”

No interest in the … was the man completely mad?

Aileen could only stare incredulously, her water glass in hand, while she worked to control her breath.

What was she even supposed to say in this situation?

As far as she was aware, there would be no sheets to showcase, so long as Gerald held to his word.

And, even if they were to, by some miracle, sanctify their marriage tonight—but, to be so forward about it?

Already, they are trying to drag me back into me old position, she thought bitterly. One where she quietly sat in her room, and jumped to her feet when they commanded it.

“Ye must think very little of yer intelligence, councilman.”

Aileen blinked, brought back to the conversation at hand. Gerald’s voice was right on the edge of ice; polite enough for those who might overhear, but dreadfully cold toward the one person who needed to hear it. And much to her surprise, he was looking directly at her.

“But why continue with assumptions?” the faintest hints of a smirk played across his face. “Sweet wife of mine, do ye have any interest in the conversation at hand?”

Was he including her? Aileen set her cup aside, trying to exude an air of confidence around her. She was Lady MacLiddel; there wasn’t a man in this room who could willingly ignore her anymore. “If I am to be honest, dear husband, I’m feeling quite insulted.”

She was genuinely surprised at how level her tone was; it was invigorating, to say the least. “Not only does the man before me question me capabilities as the new Lady, but he seems to believe this is the time and place to discuss such intimate details.”

“I couldnae agree more, sweet wife.” The smirk Gerald held on his face had Aileen weak in the knees, even though she was sitting firmly in her chair. “One would think ye’re nae knowledgeable about a lady’s duties.”

“Aye, but that cannae be the case.” Aileen turned to Alistair, offering a light chuckle and a polite covering of her mouth. “I wouldnae assume such an esteemed member of our new joint council would be so foolish. Why, one may mistake such actions as a desire to be removed from his position?”

The way the older man’s face paled, the way his face twisted up in panic at her words—this new power was addictive, Aileen realized. And Gerald seemed equally enthused to see her wield it to such devastating effect.

“Nay, of course nae!” Alistar insisted. “I … we wouldnae make such bold assumptions, me Lady. It’s just that we worry this alliance will come apart without proper proof. That after all of this trouble, the Laird willnae?—”

The clink of a sword leaving its scabbard turned the room silent as all the celebrants turned toward the main table.

Gerald had long since gotten to his feet, his hand pulling at his weapon’s hilt as fire finally spilled out over into his voice.

“Ye must be daft in the head, to believe there wouldnae be consequences for nae only insulting me wife, but the Laird of this castle.”

Aileen didn’t think it was possible for a man to turn any whiter.

And yet, Alistair proved her wrong. He immediately dropped to his knees before Gerald while attempting to stammer some form of apology.

It meant very little as, with a nod from the Laird of MacLiddel, a pair of warriors approached the councilman and dragged him to his feet.

“Let it be known that Alistair Barclay is stripped of his title of councilman,” Gerald bellowed.

“For disrespecting the sanctity of this union between clans MacGunn and MacLiddel. And for any others who believe themselves above me new wife’s respect …

” He pulled his sword out completely, pointing its edge at the remainder of the crowd. “Ye have been warned.”

A great tension pulled itself tightly within the room, with everyone watching the now-blubbering councilman be dragged out the main doors. Eventually, the cautious string of instruments began to fill the room with music, and the celebration began in earnest once more.

Gerald sat back down in his chair, with Aileen unable to look away from him.

It was the first time someone genuinely stood for her honor—it was the first time she could properly defend herself.

And it was all thanks to him; to a man who, for all intended purposes, wanted nothing further to do with her after tonight’s celebration.