Page 45 of Marry the Highland Villain
“Megan! Oh, Megan, ‘tis so good to see ye here!” Brigid gasped a little at the strength of her sister’s embrace. “Och, I’ve missed ye all so much! I thought ye would never get here!”
“And we’ve missed ye more than ye can imagine.” Lily appeared behind Megan to sweep them both into her arms, followed a few seconds later by a third set of arms that Brigid knew was Valerie’s.
Brigid breathed in deeply, inhaling the scent of herbs and woodsmoke from Lily, the fainter scent of leather and tanning tools from Megan, and the camphor Valerie used to keep insects away from her clothes. Familiar scents, warm and comforting, and carrying the sweet reminder of home.
She tightened her grip for a moment, then released her sisters, stepping back to get a better look at them.
“I was beginnin’ to fear ye’d met with mischief on the road,” she said, hardly daring to allow herself to believe they were all safely here, at last.
Valerie snorted—a familiar sound that made Brigid smile. “As if any of us would let a wee misadventure stop us from reachin’ ye,little sister,” she said with a grin. “The worst ye ever had to fear is that we’d be late and miss the wedding.”
Brigid flushed. “I was worried about that,” she admitted. “But Conall agreed to delay until ye arrive. Seein’ as ye’re here now, we’ll be able to hold the wedding tomorrow—everything’s ready.”
“Is that so?” Lily murmured, her eyes searching her sister’s face. “’Tis very kind of him to wait for us, especially when he didnae ken how long it might take us to get here.”
“Aye. He is kind,” Brigid replied, her cheeks reddening further under the knowing gazes of her three elder sisters. “He isnae what ye might think. He’s… Well, mayhap ’tis best I introduce ye to him and let ye judge for yerselves.”
She turned to face Conall, who was standing a few steps away, waiting patiently for the sisters to finish their greeting, and looking as if he didn’t quite know what to do with himself.
“Come and meet my sisters,” Brigid said, hurrying over to him and taking his arm.
“Are ye sure?” Connor murmured, in a voice low enough for only her to hear. “They dinnae exactly look pleased to see me.”
“They dinnae ken ye,” Brigid replied, tugging gently at his sleeve. “All they ken of ye is what ye wrote in yer letter, and that it’s yerintention to marry me. And I’m the youngest of all of us—ye can understand if they seem a wee bit overprotective, I’m sure.”
Conall’s arm twitched slightly under her fingers, as though he was considering making his escape, after all.
“Ye’re the youngest?” he said, sounding for all the world as if this was completely new information to him, even though Brigid was sure she’d told him this before.
Her mouth turned up into a smile.
For a man who didnae even blink while he was facin’ down his enemy earlier, he’s certainly nervous to meet three women!
“Aye, that’s right,” she said patiently, almost dragging him the final distance to where her sisters were standing, waiting for them, before stepping between them to introduce him.
“Lily, Valerie, Megan,” she began, smiling widely now. “I want ye to meet my betrothed and soon-to-be husband, Conall Barr, Laird of Clan MacKane.”
Conall bowed into the silence that descended, his strong, deep voice carrying easily across the courtyard, and showing no trace of the nerves he’d displayed just a few seconds earlier.
“A pleasure to meet ye all, ladies.”
CHAPTER 16
Conall studiedthe three women in front of him. They stared back at him, their bright gazes sharp as knives and showing no trace of the fear or uncertainty most people carried when meeting Laird MacKane for the first time—or even the second time, for that matter. If looks could be blades these would have been daggers aimed at his heart.
For once in his life, Conall suspected he might have met his match.
The woman Brigid had addressed as Lily appeared to be the oldest. Her hair was a few shades lighter than Brigid’s, an unusual shade that fell somewhere between mahogany and cherry. Her eyes were blue, and her figure, though not as robust as Brigid’s, was well-endowed. Her gaze was calm, assessing, and she carried herself with some of the same air that Emily wore when she was examining a patient. There were also stains and calluses on her fingers that suggested she might be a healer or at least an herbalist.
She cares for hearth and home, for all the cares an’ ills of her kinfolk, I’ll wager. And sister she may be, but she looks as if she has a mother’s care for my betrothed. An’ ten-to-one, she’s just as dangerous as a mother wolf with a cub in regards to Brigid’s safety and well-being.
The lass Brigid had named Valerie had hair the same color as Lily’s and a similar figure, but she had Brigid’s green eyes rather than her eldest sister’s bright blue ones. Her clothing was more colorful, and more like some of the fashions Conall had seen sported by women at the Highland Gatherings he’d attended than her older sister’s plainer garments. She also carried a pouch at her belt that seemed to be full of… something. Tools of trade, perhaps, for she, too, had the look of one skilled with her hands.
And, Conall recalled, the letter had suggested that she had worked with, or voyaged with, her infamous father. Valerie Blackwood was no woman to cross lightly, he suspected. Not if she had learned any lessons at Magnus Blackwood’s knee.
She might dress like a seamstress, but if she rode the seas with Magnus Blackwood, then she likely fights like any one of his crew—an’ carries more sharp objects than I’d want to tangle with. She seems to be the quietest of them all as well, and I ken well that a quiet lad or lass can hold a warrior’s fire under the right circumstances. I’ll wager she’s one of those ’tis nae wise to push too much.
The last of the three, Megan, had hair the color of bright autumn leaves, tightly braided back. Her dress was plain and utterly practical—leggings under a skirt that was clearly madefor riding, a plain blouse under a leather vest, with bracers on both wrists and an unstrung bow and quiver of arrows on her back. She also had a knife at her side and carried herself lightly on the balls of her feet, moving with the easy grace of a seasoned hunter. She was slim and lithe, leaner than her sisters, and with hands that showed she knew very well how to use the weapons she wore.
