Page 30 of The Highlander's Captured Bride
“If she is anything like her maither, I’d nae be surprised.” Mister O’Cain snorted. “Her maither would see through me, too, and call me to task when I failed to dae the right thing, like spend more time with me work than with them.”
A quick memory of Violet fully grown flashed through his mind. He shook his head and went back to his meal. “I can see that.”
“She’s going to be a very strong woman, which scares me to be truthful,” her father said. “Such independence might alarm the man who might marry her.”
“Nay if she chooses the right man, one who understands and appreciates her,” Ethan rebutted quickly, only to earn himself a queer look from Mister O’Cain, who stared at him with an unflinching gaze.
He began to shift under the older man’s look. His food sat uneasily in his stomach until Mister O’Cain tore his look away with a secret smile that made him even more uneasy. When the man went back to his food, Ethan grabbed at his goblet of water and chugged as if he had just come in from a desert.
“Ye’re right,” Mister O’Cain said. “The right one will not turn her away or slight her for her achievements.”
And the bizarre feeling that was between them began to crawl over his skin. He was fully uncomfortable and felt that he might have given the man some signs that could be construed in very different ways, with assumptions he instantly shied away from even considering.
His appetite dwindled to almost nothing, but he forced himself to eat the rest of his meal. With a little prodding, Mister O’Cain began to divulge more about Violet and how she had been after her mother died. His recollection matched up with the ones Violet had told him about how she had acted after her mother had passed away. The trenchers were cleared away but he sat, listening to Mister O’Cain recalling tales of Violet’s past.
He was recalling a case where a canny crook had used an elaborate relay of crows to scare people into thinking a spirit was the one murdering men in a small town near the borderlands when Violet’s voice cut in.
“Did ye get to the part where I sat in the town’s lighthouse for a full night to see where the crows came from?” she asked gaily.
“Nay,” her father’s lips twitched. “Now that ye are here, I ken it would be best for ye to finish the tale.”
“Are ye sure?” Violet came to stand by Ethan’s side. “I dae so love hearing the recollection of how ye scolded me when I threatened to chain meself to the tower if ye dared move me from it.”
He chuckled, stood and kissed her forehead. “I ken that now up to ye. It’s late, and I have had a good few hours of travel. Me bed is singing to me like a siren. Good night, Violet, and ye too, Master MacFerson.”
Both watched him leave, then Violet took the vacant seat. He tried to look everywhere except towards her. But his attempts failed and she was waiting silently by his side. “I spoke to Faither about what we discussed and then soon later, yer faither came in and said the same thing ye said about a third party in the murder. Ye two are uncannily similar.”
She snickered. “Well, he is me faither, in case ye havenae realized by now.”
Her dry humor evoked a laugh from him, too, but while looking around the dark kitchen he felt it was ill-fitting for what he wanted to talk to her about and stood. “I ken a change of scenery would be good, eh? Care to take a turn with me around the garden?”
“I would like that, aye,” she said, and he held his hand out and she took it.
With her close, he led her out into the main garden as this one was larger than the one he had taken her before, there was more legroom to walk. This one had many crushed gravel walkways and trimmed hedges. Not a word passed between them but a calm quietness that felt like a warm blanket had them coming closer. His fingers were laced with hers and her shoulder brushed him softly.
“Have ye been avoiding me?” she asked quietly. “I havenae seen ye since the stables.”
“Nay intentionally,” he replied quietly. “I just… felt overburdened by all that was happening. All of it felt like a horse unleashed, one running pell-mell without any direction. I dinnae feel any measure of calm until yer faither began to tell me stories of yer past.”
“Ethan, I—”
“I ken ye dinnae want me to worry, I daenae want to worry but it’s always there, lingering in the back of me mind. When all this tangled web sorts itself out, I’ll be here, grabbling with making the lairdship half as successful as I kent Finley would have made it,” he blurted then grimaced. “I’m sorry, Violet, that wasnae right of me.”
They were near a bench and she sat first, then he joined her, only to lean his elbows on his knees. “I’m scared, Violet. I’m so very scared.”
“We all have things to worry about,” she said quietly. “Like me, I’m worried that what I dae and who I am will never draw a man near to me. In many aspects, I am the opposite of what would appeal to a prospective husband. I face the fact that I might be alone for the rest or me life or settle for someone who willnae appreciate me.”
Again, Ethan was thrown by the similarities between the father and the daughter. Shaking his head wry he sighed, “And ye faither might have mentioned that too, but from a concerned parent’s perspective, mind ye.”
“And I believe what yer faither said that ye will find yer own footing,” she injected. “Ye have a caring, loving heart, Ethan, one that I cannae ever see people rejecting because ye’re nay the one they were expecting.”
He leaned back, nearly trembling from the sincerity of her words. He knew she was right, just as he knew his father was right and the disembodied voice of his brother whispering in his soul told him he was right, but the doubt still lingered.
“And I cannae see why any man fortunate enough to see ye would reject ye for living a different life than they expected,” he said. “Whoever rejects ye is a fool.”
“Remind me to call ye up when that happens so ye can say it to their face,” Violet smiled. “But what about ye? I’d imagine yer faither would want ye to get married one day.”
“Aye.” The sunken feeling in his gut from earlier in the day, doubled in strength. “To a daughter of one of the nearby clans. It’s how we’ve always done marriages. Finley was ready to weather the lairdship unmarried but…I suppose when it comes to me time…I’ll have to find the right one.”
