Page 22 of Marry the Highland Villain
Conall wason his way down to supper when Emily found him and planted herself square in the middle of his path.
“I need to speak to ye,” she said without preamble, her arms crossed forbiddingly over her chest.
Conall frowned. “Is someone hurt?” he said in a tone that suggested they better be, to justify this ambush.
“Nae physically,” Emily replied, unperturbed by the disgruntled look on her brother-in-law’s face. “But yer betrothed… Och, now there’s a situation where ye’ve done a piss-poor job of takin’ care of matters.” She glared at him, her usually gentle expression suddenly fierce. “The lass is borrowin’ my clothes—which arenae made for her—and it shows. And what have ye done, exactly, to make sure she’s comfortable?”
“I gave her a suite…”
“A suite ye’d give a visitin’ laird ye barely tolerated—och, Conall, those rooms arenae suitable for a young woman, let alone one ye intend to marry! A man in mourning ye may be, but I’d think ye had better sense than to think a lass would be happy surrounded by dark oak furniture, bare stone walls, and drab colors!”
Conall felt the back of his neck and ears prickle. In truth, he’d barely thought of it at all.
“The chamber is one of the best in the castle. ’Tis certainly one of the largest. The decor may nae be exactly to her liking, but?—”
“An’ dinnae get me started on the fact that ye didnae provide her with clothing, nor soaps, nor candles, nor towels,” Emily went on as if he hadn’t spoken. “For goodness’ sake, Conall, she was dragged here with nothing but the clothes on her back. If ye’re determined to marry the lass, then ye’d better tak’ proper care of her, or I’ll put enough bearberry in yer mead to make ye overflow the privy!”
Conall winced. He knew enough about Emily to know that if she was sufficiently vexed, she was well capable of proving the old adage, ‘Never invite a healer’s wrath.’
Still, he’d heard whispers from the servants, and he knew what she and Brigid had been doing.
“It’s my understandin’ that ye’ve tended to much of the matter yerself,” he said, unwilling to admit that his sister-in-law might have a point.
Emily huffed. “We’ve found enough in the storerooms to make things better if that’s what ye mean, but ‘better’ isnae good enough, Conall. Nae for the Laird’s wife—the lady of the castle. Ye shouldnae need me to tell ye this. An’ what good is it for me to make all the effort? Ye’re the one who plans to be her husband. ’Tis yer responsibility to show ye havesomecare for the lass.”
Conall resisted the urge to snarl at the healer.
What the devil do I ken about such things? I scarcely considered bein’ wed until two days ago! I’ve never courted a lass, let alone been betrothed to one. And I ken she was brought here with nothing, but I also ken I’ve nay idea what a lass wants or needs. That’s why I wanted ye to make friends with her!
Emily stared at him, almost as if she knew exactly what he was thinking and was daring him to say it out loud. But Conall was not that stupid.
He took a deep breath to quell his irritation, or frustration, or whatever it was—Emily was more than capable of inspiring both—then said the only sensible thing he could think of under the circumstances.
“What would ye have me do, then, Emily, seein’ as ye seem to have all the answers?”
“’Tis market day tomorrow in the village,” Emily replied, refusing to rise to the barb in his tone. “Let me tak’ Brigid with me. We can get the supplies I need, and a little bit of everything she needs as well. Provide the coin, and I’ll do the rest.”
Irritation turned into anger and a fierce defensiveness he wouldn’t have thought, just three days ago, anyone besides his kinfolk was capable of inspiring in him. And yet here he was, feeling the need to protect Brigid.
“Nay,” he replied shortly. “She’s nae supposed to leave the castle. Ye ken that, Emily.”
Emily scoffed. “Och, Conall, have ye looked at the lass at all? She’s used to sun and freedom, or I’m a banshee.”
I’d rather deal with one of those, thank ye.
Conall quashed the thought before Emily could see it on his face. “She can have sun in the castle gardens or the courtyard.”
“’Tis nae enough, an’ ye ken it. Brigid told me ye’ve already refused to let her go to her kinfolk—do ye intend to trammel her like a wild thing, or bind her with jesses like a hawk? Ye’ll lose her heart and soul if ye do.”
The thought of seeing Brigid’s eyes turn flat and lifeless, without spirit or warmth, hit him like a mace blow to the gut. That didn’t mean, however, that he had to yield so easily.
“’Tis too dangerous for her to wander about,” he repeated. “It’s for her own good, Emily.”
Emily waved a dismissive hand. “She’ll be out at the market with me, nae wanderin’ the roads alone. Ye ken well enough that thevillagers would punish anyone who tried to harm me or anyone I was with. An’ like as nae, the off-duty warriors will be in the tavern, enjoyin’ the mead and the willing wenches. Defenses enough, if anyone tries to steal her away or harm her. Ye can also send extra guards to patrol the market if ye’re so worried.”
“She might…”
The look Emily gave him froze the words in his mouth before he could utter them.
