Page 48 of Marry the Highland Villain
Brigid felt a blush rising in her cheeks, but she held her elder sister’s gaze defiantly. “Aye.”
“Well, as long as ye’re sure…”
Lily quickly got to her feet and came around the table to embrace her sister gently. “If ye’re sure, and ye’re happy, then of course, we’ll stand by ye.”
“We’ll even move to MacKane lands,” Valerie put in unexpectedly.
Brigid blinked at her, her heart beating so fast that she could barely hear herself think.
“Ye would?”
Valerie studied her. “Did ye nae hear him when he asked if we would wish to join his clan?” she asked.
Brigid swallowed hard as this sank in. “Aye but… ye’d truly consider it?” she asked incredulously.
“Aye. We’ve been considerin’ it ever since the Laird made us the offer,” Lily replied, her embrace tightening. “But only if ye’re certain ye want to wed him.”
“I do.” Brigid looked up at her sister. “I do.”
She did want to marry Conall. There was a part of her that still remembered her mother’s warning, but it didn’t seem to matter—not when she recalled the passion in Conall’s kiss and the way he’d defended her against the men who’d threatened her last night. Even that first night, when he’d known nothing about her save that her grandfather had sent her, he had protected her, incensed by the knowledge that she had been harmed.
He was still a frightening man. Still the type of gruff, temperamental warrior her mother had warned her against trusting with her heart. But he was a fair one, and a loyal one—anyone could see that. And Brigid couldn’t make herself turn away from him, even if she’d wanted to.
The truth was, Conall made her feel like no one else ever had, and that was a feeling she couldn’t help but want to explore some more.
The talk around the table turned to other, more familiar subjects—which villagers had approached Valerie for new clothing, what Megan had hunted recently, and how Lily was progressing with her herbal studies and the household preparations.
Eventually, though, her sisters dispersed to bathe and change for dinner, tired after their long journey, and Brigid found herself wandering the halls of what would soon be her home—the place she was coming to love as much as she loved the large cottage she’d grown up in.
Maybe ‘home’ could be more than one place.
“Brigid.” She turned to find Conall behind her.
“Conall. Did ye have a good day?”
Conall smiled, a quick quirk of the scarred side of his mouth before his expression smoothed over into the customary impassivity. “I think I’m supposed to be askin’ ye that. Did ye enjoy spendin’ the day with yer sisters?”
“I did. ’Tis good to see them again.” Brigid moved closer and impulsively embraced him, her arms tight around his tapered waist. “Thank ye for offerin’ to accept them into the clan.”
“They’re yer kin. And they’ve nae agreed to it yet, so I woulnae get too excited.” Conall’s voice rumbled through his chest as Brigid leaned against it, listening to the deep, comforting tone that was already becoming so familiar. “I gather they want to be sure ye’re happy afore they decide.”
“That is what Lily and Valerie are thinkin’,” Brigid agreed. “They’ll most likely give ye an answer after the wedding tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?” The soft question in Conall’s voice made her look up. “Are ye sure?”
Brigid blinked. “Ye said the wedding would be held the day after my sisters arrived.”
“Aye, I did. But I ken… there hasnae been much time for courtin’. If ye wished to delay for longer, I would understand. And I would be patient, much as it would pain me to wait.”
“Ye said the truce wouldnae hold if we waited too long, though?” Brigid said, frowning in confusion.
Conall snorted. “Och, Laird Auchter proved today that he’ll do as he likes. He doesnae have much choice, really. The truce will hold well enough if we wait a little longer.”
Brigid blinked up at him as an unwelcome thought came to her. “Do ye… do ye wish to delay?” she asked tentatively, not sure if she wanted to know the answer to her question.
Conall pulled her close, his gaze as intense as firelight trapped in glass. “Make nay mistake,” Brigid,” he said quietly. “I’d marry ye right this moment if it were possible. But as much as I wish for ye to be my wife, I wish for ye to be happy. I told ye afore… I’m marryin’ ye forye, nae for the sake of peace with Eric Holdenson. So, when ye walk up to me at the altar and swear in front of the priest, I want ye to be completely sure that ye’re willin’ and happy to be there.”
He was giving her a choice. The choice to wait, and the choice to walk away if she wished. For a moment, Brigid considered the offer and the choice, as well as her mother’s rule, which continued to echo in the back of her mind almost like a lullaby.
