Page 38 of The Mad Highlander

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B ut when she knocked on the door, there was no answer. Nervously, she opened the door a crack and peered inside. The bed was in disarray, but Edan was nowhere to be seen.

“Blast,” she muttered under her breath, guessing he was already up and about. “I had better get dressed quickly and go find him.”

She went to the wardrobe and fetched some clean linen, a gown, a shawl, shoes, and stockings. Then, she bundled up a few things from the vanity—her hairbrush, a hanky, her rose perfume, and some jewelry—in her clean shift. Loaded with her things, she hurried back upstairs to her new chambers, relieved not to bump into anyone on the way.

“Will ye have some breakfast, Me Lady?” Megan asked when she got back and dumped everything on the bed.

“Nay, nae now, thank ye. I’ll have some later. For now, I must get dressed and go and find the Laird,” Olivia explained. “Will ye help me get ready?”

Once she was presentable, she went downstairs to look for Edan. With the help of a servant, she quickly found him in the Great Hall, seated at the Laird’s table, sharing breakfast with Greta.

She made a beeline for them. Despite her anxiety, it warmed her heart to see Greta happy.

Greta waved merrily at Olivia, but Edan, who had his broad back to her, did not even turn his head to greet her.

How rude!

As Olivia came up to the table, she heard Greta saying to him, “And ye have some new scars as well, I see, lad. Ye should be more careful. I cannae say it doesnae worry me, but I suppose I should just be grateful that ye’re back in one piece, eh?”

Edan rumbled something Olivia could not make out. Whatever it was, to her surprise, it made Greta chuckle.

So, the man is capable of good humor, is he? I would never have guessed!

Greta smiled at Olivia, who greeted her warmly with a kiss on her soft, wrinkled cheek. Edan, however, did not acknowledge her presence in any way. He seemed to be deliberately ignoring her, which irked her, since it made her hesitant to talk to him about Laird Nurkirk.

“Good mornin’, dear,” Greta said, patting Olivia’s arm affectionately. She nodded towards Edan, her eyes sparkling. “He’s back. I told ye he would be, did I nae?” she said triumphantly. “Och, ’tis so good to have ye home, Edan,” she murmured, looking at her grandson fondly.

But as far as Olivia could see, the ignoramus made no response. He merely picked up his tankard of ale and sipped from it.

What, is he so rude as to ignore his grandmaither now?

Annoyed by his rudeness, she turned her attention back to Greta for the moment.

It was impossible to ignore the stark change in Greta’s mood from the previous night. The anxiety had vanished, to be replaced by pure elation. She seemed to have grown younger in the space of a few hours. Olivia could understand how she felt. Edan was her only grandson, and she doted on him. She had been the only one never to give up hope that he was alive. Although Olivia had mixed feelings about Edan’s return, about her husband in general, she was pleased for Greta’s sake.

“Good mornin’, Greta dear,” she replied with feigned cheer. “Aye, what a lovely surprise for ye, eh? I’ll wager ye couldnae believe it when ye laid eyes on him.”

She cast a glance at her husband and met an impenetrable wall.

“I ken I couldnae,” she added under her breath.

“Och, aye, lassie, and I dinnae think I’ve ever been so pleased to see anyone in me life before,” Greta replied with a chuckle. “Everything will be all right now that he’s home.”

Olivia wondered if Greta had already told Edan that Laird Nurkirk was coming to propose to her that day.

Does he think I had something to do with arrangin’ it? Is that why he willnae acknowledge me?

Her sense of urgency rose. She had to make him understand that she had had no part in it, that it was all the council’s doing. Though why she felt so anxious for him to know that she was an innocent pawn in all of this, she had no idea. She chalked it down to fearing his angry reaction.

However, she was too afraid to bring up the topic just like that. So, she hid behind her teacup and covertly regarded him from under her lashes for a few minutes, choosing her moment and wondering how best to broach the subject.

Covertly, she took in his black-clad, powerful physique, the scars that covered his hands and neck as well as his face, and the expression that was as welcoming as flint.

He was a forbidding figure, to be sure. Yet, somehow, just as it had happened during their nighttime encounter, his presence stirred a response inside her that she had never felt before in the company of any man. It was deeply confusing, a visceral excitement that made her senses tingle and the blood heat up in her veins.

Thank God he has his shirt on this time .

Daunting as he was, Olivia summoned her courage and shifted in her seat to face him. She even managed a welcoming smile. “And a good mornin’ to ye as well, husband. I trust ye slept well,” she said pointedly.

There was no hint of a smile on his face as his eyes met hers across the table, pinning her to her seat. A shiver ran down Olivia’s spine, but she refused to be cowed and held his gaze. It was then that she realized she had forgotten his eyes were grey, the color of granite, and about as forgiving. His intense gaze bored into her in the cold daylight and only made him seem even more intimidating.

But he’s me husband, and I have to tell him!

So, mentally taking a deep breath, she opened her mouth to speak. Only to shut it when a steward suddenly appeared at the table.

“Me Laird, Andrew Morrison, Laird of Clan Nurkirk is here,” he announced.

Olivia struggled to suppress the squeak of panic that threatened to burst from her lips upon hearing the news.

Blast him! Why has he come so early? Could he nae have at least the decency to wait until after breakfast? There’s nay time to tell Edan now… Och, Lord above!

At the same time, she felt a deep-seated disgust for Nurkirk, guessing the real reason why he was calling so early. It was because the faster he got her to agree to marry him, the faster he could take over as the leader of Clan Aberfeld, taking all of Edan’s wealth and power for himself, as well as his wife.

Although she had never met the man, in her eyes, his actions appeared blatantly self-serving, revealing him to be ambitious in the worst way possible. That alone told her he was not husband material—not that she had ever had any intention of accepting his proposal. Under the strange circumstances, despite Edan’s fearsomeness, she was glad he was alive and that she was Lady Aberfeld.

It was obvious from Edan’s mystified frown that he had no clue why Laird Nurkirk had come. Olivia trembled, imagining his furious reaction when he learned the reason, especially when caught off guard like this.

Would he feel humiliated? She cast a worried glance at Greta, hoping for some sign as to what she should do. But the old lady’s dark eyes were trained on her grandson as he turned to fix Olivia with a steely gaze.

“Do ye ken why he’s come?” he asked quietly, his voice deep and gruff.

“Um, aye, I-I do,” Olivia forced herself to admit, hating the way her voice shook.

“Good. So, explain it to me,” he commanded, folding his arms as he looked down at her, his harsh gaze searching her face.

Plucking up all her courage, Olivia took a deep breath and blurted out, “Laird Nurkirk has come… with a proposal of marriage… for me.”

There was a tense moment where everything around them seemed to stop, and she quaked in her slippers as she watched Edan’s expression turn thunderous. A few folks were now seated at the tables in the hall, enjoying an early breakfast.

Olivia nearly jumped out of her skin when Edan suddenly turned to them and bellowed, “Out, the lot of ye! Get out now!”

The surprised clansfolk scurried to obey their Laird.

Of course, they would .

Olivia wished she could go with them as she watched them depart hurriedly, some taking their breakfasts with them.

Who in their right mind would disobey Edan?

At last, the hall emptied but for her, Edan, and Greta. The old lady was still seated at the table, watching them both with rapt attention. When Edan turned his thunderous gaze to Olivia once more, she took a step back out of fear.

He followed her and grabbed her upper arm firmly. “Explain to me why he thinks he has the right to come here and propose to ye, seein’ as ye’re already married. To me.” His voice was tight with barely controlled fury.

“Because everyone thought ye were dead,” she blurted out fearfully. “At least, the council did. The councilmen wanted the marriage.”

Edan released her arm and began circling her as a wolf circles its prey, his eyes drilling into her.

Though completely unnerved, Olivia tried not to show it. She moistened her dry lips with the tip of her tongue and forced herself to meet his eyes and maintain a calm facade. She reminded herself that she had not asked for any of this. Taking strength from that as well as her pride, she was determined to show that she was not intimidated.

He suddenly ceased his circling and stepped uncomfortably close to her, looming over her. “And did ye intend to accept this proposal?”

Olivia lifted her chin, looked him right in the eye, and stated clearly, “Nay. I planned to refuse him.”

Edan said nothing to that. But Olivia felt his piercing gaze as though it were hot needles on her skin. He seemed intent on penetrating her very soul, to see if she were being truthful.

Well, let him look. I have nothin’ to hide.

“All right, enough,” he finally said, grabbing her arm once more and leading her briskly down the center aisle towards the hall’s great doors. He halted a few feet away, keeping her close to his side as they waited for Nurkirk to be shown in.

A moment later, the door opened, and a man Olivia knew must be Andrew Morrison, Laird of Clan Nurkirk, crossed the threshold with a spring in his step.

He looked to be in his late thirties and was very well dressed, in a full kilt and a sky-blue coat. He was of medium height and well-built, and he wore his curly blond hair short as if to show off his handsome, light-complexioned features. His bearing was authoritative, but his air of confidence vanished the moment his eyes landed on Edan.

Olivia looked nervously between the two men and immediately noticed that despite Nurkirk’s look of shock and dismay, Edan was very tense. His whole body radiated hostility. He seemed poised, like a steel mantrap about to snap shut.

Without a word, Edan stepped towards Nurkirk, away from Olivia’s side, leaving her feeling very exposed to the unwelcome visitor’s gaze. Like a black monolith, he planted himself firmly in front of her, a few feet away from the other laird. He towered above Nurkirk, blocking his path, his hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

“Nurkirk,” he said, his voice so low and menacing that Olivia shuddered. “I hear ye’ve come to me castle to propose to me wife. Is that right?”

Visibly caught off guard, Laird Nurkirk’s face flushed. But he quickly rallied, responding with a curt nod. “Aberfeld. I admit I’m surprised to see ye.”

Olivia held her breath when she saw how he casually rested his hand on the pommel of his sword. She nervously twisted her fingers at her waist, silently praying the men would not come to blows. When they did not, she exhaled slowly but continued to tremble in the horribly tense atmosphere.

“Aye, I bet ye are,” Edan replied disdainfully. “’Tis nae every day that ye come face to face with a dead man, eh?”

Nurkirk cast a glance at Olivia. “Ye’ve been away for a long time, man. Ye can hardly blame folks for thinkin’ ye werenae comin’ back,” he countered coolly.

But Olivia could tell he was far from calm under the surface. His brown eyes were glinting with suppressed fury. But there was fear there too.

“And ye saw yer chance to take me place and expand yer wee empire, eh?”

Nurkirk lifted his chin. “I only acted on the invitation of the council. Yer council. With an absent laird, who can blame yer councilmen for seekin’ stability for the clan through a union with mine?” He cast another glance at Olivia. “Lady Olivia would have also benefited from the marriage, since she was considered to be a young widow. Ye would likely have done the same if?—”

“Shut yer mouth,” Edan growled, brutally cutting him off. “Dinnae ever try to tell me what I would do. And as to me wife, she’s nae a widow, as ye can see.”

He took another step towards Nurkirk, which visibly flustered the man. But Nurkirk stood his ground, nonetheless.

“Ye’d better understand that only I ken what’s best for her, nae ye nor anybody else. So ye need nae concern yerself with her,” Edan ground out.

He stepped forward threateningly again, and Olivia suddenly realized he was slowly and deliberately blocking Nurkirk’s view of her.

“Now, this conversation is over. I dinnae want to see yer face around here again, Nurkirk, nor anywhere inside me borders, or it’ll be worse for ye. And I strongly advise ye to leave now. Because if ye dinnae go at once, then I may end up doin’ somethin’ ye’ll regret.”

Olivia saw the look in Nurkirk’s eyes turn into icy hatred. Terrified by its ferocity, she was suddenly convinced that they would begin fighting. It was surprising to find herself worrying that Edan might get hurt. Thankfully, the pair only glared at each other, but the tension in the air was palpable.

Nurkirk straightened up and said, “Ye seem to be forgettin’ that ye and yer men have been away for a year, fightin’ someone else’s war, Aberfeld. Ye’re battle-weary, the lot of ye, and nae as strong ye used to be.”

Edan squared up to him. “Is that a threat? Because if it is, then ye’d better be able to back it up,” he shot back.

“I’m nae threatenin’ ye, man,” Nurkirk replied hastily enough to make Olivia suspect that he was lying. “I’m simply statin’ a fact.”

“Is that so?” Edan replied. “Well, I suppose we’ll see whether ye’re lyin’ or nae in due course, eh? Now, as I said, ’tis time to for ye to leave. And dinnae come back. The guards will show ye out.”

Nurkirk gave him a last venomous glare before turning on his elegant heel and stepping out of the hall.

Olivia and Edan stood in tense silence, not looking at each other, as the door closed and the sound of several retreating footsteps echoed down the hallway.