Page 27 of Marry the Highland Villain
She took Brigid’s cup next and tsked at it. “Och, ye’ve a great choice to make, M’Lady. A hard one. Follow yer heart, or follow yer head… they’ll both lead ye to love. But one will bring grief, and the other will bring joy. An’ only ye can make the choice.”
As fortunes went, it seemed to Brigid to be an ominous one. Still, she paid the fortune teller the three coppers requested. By then, it was noon, so she and Emily retired to the tavern for lunch, before returning to their market exploration.
Time passed, and Brigid immersed herself in the pleasant experience of being able to browse the market without being sneered at. She was scarcely conscious of anything more than Emily’s presence and the delights of each new stall, until Emily sucked in a breath, startling her.
“What are they doin’ here?”
Brigid looked up and realized with a start that the sun was low in the sky, near the horizon, and the light was coming from torches as well as the setting sun.
And there, at the head of the lane, both wearing wrathful expressions, were Conall and Oliver.
Brigid swallowed hard and shared a glance with Emily. “I think we might be late in returnin’ to the castle.”
Conall strode toward the market in a foul mood. His day had been a difficult one, between the council questioning—again—his decision to marry Brigid and Oliver’s blatant distrust, which never seemed to waver no matter how hard he tried to reason with him.
Oliver had been furious with him ever since he’d agreed to let Brigid accompany Emily to the village. All day long, Oliver had muttered and snarled, snapping like a dog with a thorn in its paw.
I ken he doesnae trust Brigid, but this was his wife’s idea, nae Brigid’s or mine—and surely he trusts her?
He’d been tempted to smack sense into his brother’s skull more than once that day and had only refrained because he’d not wanted to incur Emily’s wrath. It did not do to get on the bad side of the clan’s only healer.
But now both women were late in returning to the castle. He’d specifically told Brigid to come back before sunset, and the sun was clearly touching the horizon, almost disappearing beneath it. He knew quite well that one might argue it hadn’t fully set, but that wasn’t the point. She should be home by now.
“Return afore sundown an’ supper,”he’d told her, expecting her to know that meant in time to wash up and attend supper.
He spotted Brigid and Emily soon enough—they were both coming toward him with full baskets, and Brigid’s black hair was easy to see even in the dimming light. Conall strode forward to meet them, Oliver hot on his heels.
They met in front of the second set of stalls.
Brigid spoke first. “Conall…”
“I told ye to return afore sunset,” he snapped without allowing her to explain.
Brigid’s expression changed from apprehensive to stubborn in a moment. Her chin went up, and her shoulders went back, her eyes flashing with annoyance.
“The sun hasnae set yet. And we were on our way back.” Her voice was as sharp as his own.
“Didnae appear that way to me,” Oliver snarled, sounding just as annoyed as his brother. “And what were ye doin’ anyway—tryin’ to bleed the clan’s coffers dry?”
“I’ve scarcely spent more than half of what the Laird gave me.” Brigid’s cheeks flushed. “Nae that it’s any of yer business—yer brother gave the coins to me.”
Oliver opened his mouth again, ready to retort, but Emily intervened, stepping between the two and glowering at her husband. “Enough. ‘Tis nae Brigid’s fault we didnae return ontime. I was gossipin’ with Maggie and talkin’ to a fortune teller. Ye ken well enough what I’m like on a good market day, Oliver, and this has been a fair one. Marcus the bookseller was back, too, and I was lookin’ for new herbs for a good long while.”
Conall huffed and folded his arms, addressing Brigid. “I gave ye a command, an’ ye didnae heed me. How am I supposed to let ye go out when I ken I cannae trust ye to do as I ask?”
Brigid tossed her hair back and raised an eyebrow. “Would ye have had me leave Emily wanderin’ the market by herself and return to the castle alone? Is that what ye would’ve preferred?”
“I’d have had ye remind her that I asked ye to return at a certain time.” A small crease appeared between Conall’s dark eyebrows.
Brigid glared at him a moment longer, then sighed and looked away. “I was enjoyin’ myself, and so was she. I’ll admit I wasnae heedin’ the time as much as I should have, but even so, I didnae ken ye meant to return the instant the sun touched the horizon!”
That much, Conall could admit, had been his fault. Sunset generally encompassed at least half a candlemark, from the first touch to the last sliver of light disappearing into the night. However, Oliver was still glaring at him as if he expected him to say more.
“And ye didnae think to ask what I did mean?” he said.
“Nay more than Emily did.” Brigid shrugged as if to suggest he was making a fuss about nothing. “Are ye always so strict?”
“Mayhap,” Conall replied before he could stop himself. “But even if I werenae, I dinnae ken ye, and if ye want to have my trust, then ye ought to pay better heed to my commands.”
