Page 81 of Taken By the Devilish Highlander
“They are getting so big,” Feya said, and a stab of guilt hit her in the chest. What would life be like now that she lived away from her family? How would she stay close to her siblings and still be a part of their lives?
“Nay, daenae start,” Morgana said. She shook her head, clearly recognizing that Feya was dropping into despair. “Ye willnae worry about us. We are barely a day’s ride away from ye.”
“But I willnae be there to see the twins grow up,” Feya protested.
“That’s right, because ye will be here to receive them when I need a break. The second those two become moody teenagers I’m sending them to spend summers at Castle Dougal.”
Feya was delighted by the thought, imagining Archer trying to navigate the mischief those two could get up to.
“Me husband is plenty moody on his own,” Feya laughed. “So, they’ll be in good company. But what about Ronnie and Tormond? Who will knock sense into those two if I’m not there?”
“Ryder is pretty good at setting those two straight,” Morgana laughed. “And no offense to ye, but they are a bit more afraid of me husband than their sister.”
They glanced across the yard, catching sight of Ryder and Archer deep in conversation. Now that the two were brothers by marriage, they seemed to drop into clan conversations any chance they got. It pleased Feya to know Archer had someone he could depend on.
“Who would have thought,” Morgana said, squeezing her sister’s hand. “Both of us village girls married to Lairds. If I didnae ken better, I would think it was a tale from the twins’ story books.”
“Sometimes it feels that way,” Feya admitted. She was dressed in emerald green, the crushed velvet perfectly complementing her eyes. Ayla had arranged her hair in a series of braids and curls, tucking chamomile flowers here and there to add to the look. “I never imagined I would end up here. It was quite...unexpected.”
“The best things in life are,” Morgana beamed. “Come, if we don’t go break up their chat, they’ll speak to no one else for the entire ceilidh.”
“Aye,” Feya nodded. “Getting Archer to talk tomeis hard enough. It’s going to take some convincing to get him to make the rounds with his wedding guests.”
“And why do I have a feeling ye have no troubleconvincingyour husband of anything? The man’s infatuated with ye.”
“He is not,” Feya laughed, shaking away the accusation, but she couldn’t help the burst of pride she felt at Morgana’s observation. She knew Archer was devoted to her, just as she was to him. And she was pleased to know that Morgana could see it, in the same way Feya could see the bond that Morgana shared with Ryder.
“I’m glad he has someone to talk to,” Feya said as the women walked toward them. Feya admired the full frame of her husband, constantly struck by how handsome he was. He was dressed in his clan’s traditional colors, his long hair braided behind him, also Ayla’s work. “Someone who willnae betray him.”
“Nay, Ryder wouldnae dare,” Morgana laughed. “Or else he’ll have me to deal with.”
“If she’s anythin’ like Morgana, I don’t envy ye in a fight. That woman can argue with the best of ‘em.”
“Feya, too,” Archer laughed. He had a flash of this morning, when a single glance from Feya had him eating from the palm of her hand. Or, to put it more bluntly, making desperate love to her against the windowsill. “Must have been somethin’ in the water where they grew up.”
“Village girls,” Ryder said, shaking his head, and Archer laughed. “They certainly keep things interesting.”
“Alright, you two, no more talk of politics,” Morgana scolded. She walked up with Feya beside her, and Archer and Ryder shared a guilty look.
“Of course,” Ryder nodded, holding back a smile.
“We do have other people to see,” Feya teased. “Have ye even thanked your sister for all the work she did to put this party together?”
“I was getting to it,” Archer said, his voice light and teasing.
“And Ryder has promised me a dance.” Morgana pulled on her husband’s arm, slowly dragging him toward the open grass where couples danced in front of musicians.
“I did?” Ryder asked, feigning surprise, but then he quickly spun his wife in a circle, guiding them gracefully to the edge of the dance floor.
“I like him,” Archer said, nodding in Ryder’s direction. “He and Morgana are well matched.”
“Aye,” Feya agreed. She slipped her hand into Archer’s arm and walked him toward Ayla. She was seated next to Holly, their heads bent together as they whispered. Nearby, there was another spread of food, complete with all Feya’s favorite treats from the women in the village. Despite the many hands Archer hired to help Jan with the cooking, the village women insistedon bringing their own pastries, breads, and cookies to the celebration.
“I think it was a success,” Ayla announced, casting her eyes around the grounds as Feya and Archer approached. They all took a moment to survey her handiwork, enjoying the bouquets of flowers and the village musicians. The whole wedding was the perfect mix of festive and formal. A good mix, Archer realized, of him and Feya.
“It was wonderful, Ayla,” Feya beamed. “We could never have pulled this off without ye.”
“Of course ye could have,” Ayla protested, but Archer shook his head.
