Page 68 of The Highlander's Fake Wife
“I’ll take yer shortbread if ye daenae want it!” Rosie cried out, suddenly appearing from beneath the table as her tiny hand grasped at the cookie.
“Ye’re nay going to share it with Bonnie, are ye?” Olivia inquired. “Ye ken Katie said no more sweets today fer her.”
“O-Of course not!” Rosie promised. “Laird’s promise.” Flora then passed the cookie to Rosie, who quickly squirreled it away in her dress’ apron. “Uh, for no reason at all, though, I’m gonna go eat this somewhere else.” Without allowing the women to reply, Rosie ran off through the hallway, the clattering paws of Fergus scampering to catch up.
“That lass is a menace,” Olivia’s mother chuckled.
“I hope me own bairn’s just the same,” Flora beamed.
Finally, nighttime fell upon Marsden’s keep, and everyone retired for the evening. Both mothers practically crawled to bed with how tired they looked, and Flora and Nathan had long-since retired after dinner. Olivia was certain she was the only soul still awake, and thus, she slipped on a robe and slipped out her door, strolling the silent halls in search of sleep.
She found herself wandering past Arthur’s door, and her pace slowed, pausing directly in front of it. For a moment, her hand lingered at her side, fingers flexing between a flat-palm and a fist. They had spent the last day or so together, yes, but hadn’t a proper moment to simply speak between each other. To have a discussion about his…proclamation. With a deep breath, Olivia curled her hand into a fist and knocked gently against Arthur’s door, listening intently for his reply. Something grunted on theother side, and–taking that as a sign to come in–Olivia opened the door.
But immediately regretted it upon entering the room.
Evidently, she wasn’t the only person who couldn’t sleep. Arthur appeared to have been previously pacing about his room, a few papers and books scattered across his provided desk and chair. Whatever sound she had heard from him seemed to be murmurings under his breath, ones that had come to a pause upon her intrusion. It became quickly evident that the laird of MacDonnell had not, in fact, invited her, as he only wore a pair of trousers for clothing.
Olivia let out a panic squeal, quickly covering her eyes to try and give Arthur a modicum of modesty. Though, she admittedly hadn’t coveredtooquickly, having taken in the man’s defined muscle and toned chest. And the hair–a part of herself wanting nothing more than to run her hands through it. Maybe convince him to loosen his trousers a bit, bear witness to that stiffness she’d felt against her during their romp through the rowan grove.
“Uh…Olivia?”
Olivia shook her head, trying to remove such lustful thoughts from her mind. “S-Sorry! Ah, sorry, Arthur–I thought ye had invited me in, b-but,”
She could hear Arthur chuckling, his hands gently grasping her own as he lowered them from her face. “’Tis alright, selkie. We’ll be married soon enough; ye’ll be seeing me shirtless quite often.”
Olivia’s face lit up brightly, hands trembling somewhat in his grasp.
“Oh…of course, only if ye ask fer it,” Arthur added, hastily pulling his hands back to his side as he moved towards his desk, pulling a free chair forward as he offered Olivia to sit. She still felt a bit dizzy over seeing the man without shirt, and thus, decided that sitting down would be her best option, lest her legs gave out beneath her.
The pair sat quietly beside each other, and Olivia wondered if, perhaps, Arthur was waiting for her to speak first. She opened her mouth to begin, though found herself lacking the words. Whatdidshe want to say to him? Where did she begin?
Arthur seemed to sense this, immediately launching into an apology. “I ken this isnae the life ye imagined, Olivia, but I cannae think of another way to keep ye safe. I feel responsible fer yer well-being–I owe ye this much, given all I’ve made ye do for me.”
Olivia’s face softened, the sour tang in the back of her throat beginning to ebb away. “I…I appreciate it, Arthur. I’m truly touched by everything ye’ve done fer me. Ye could have left me in that tarn, or sent me on me way once ye learned of my affiliations…” She sighed softly, hand raising to take Arthur’sonce more. “I just…wish ye’d reconsider havin’ a family with me. Being a maither–it’s all I’ve ever wanted.”
Arthur looked so crestfallen after hearing her words. “I ken, selkie. And…and I would love nothing more than to fulfill that wish.”
“Then, why–?”
“I spoke a bit wit Rosie today,” Arthur suddenly said. “We talked about her faither, how he’d always be there for her. And–and I almost let it slip that, one day, her faither may not return home. And that brief panic in her eye…” Arthur shook his head, squeezing Olivia’s hands tightly. “Daenae make me cause such despair in me own children’s eyes. I couldnae live with meself.”
She understood. Of course she did; Olivia would crumple if anything ever caused Rosie discomfort. And yet, her own despair remained tightly wound in her chest.
“I promise to make married life fun fer ye,” Arthur promised, offering his signature wink, though it lacked its usual vigor. “We’ll travel about the highlands, discover lands untouched by any clan. And I’ll fight to make sure ye can see it all; I’ll make these lands safe for ye.”
Olivia allowed herself to be pulled in for an embrace, her hands running across Arthur’s back as he held her close. She wanted nothing more than to remain in his grasp, to be content with what he was asking. And maybe, some day, she would be. Buttonight, she let herself be held by her soon-to-be husband, mourning the family she would never have.
35
Finally, the sun rose on the day of the wedding proper. Marsden keep was abuzz with activity, with final touches being made before the ceremony. Olivia stood in her room before the mirror, trying to mentally prepare herself for what was to come. A gentle knock came at her door, and a small part of her hoped it was Arthur. To try and convince him that their marriage was a mistake, or to try and change his mind about children. Maybe she just wanted to see him, take some of the confidence he always seemed to perpetually exude.
The door gently cracked open, with Olivia’s mother standing on the other side.Olivia? Do ye mind if I come in?”
Olivia let out a gentle sigh, partially out of relief, partially out of disappointment. “Aye, Maither. Ye may enter.”
Her mother slipped through the door, a folded gown tucked in-between her arms. Olivia couldn’t help but smile at her expression; at the very least, one of them would enjoy todayfully. She did her best to hold onto that warm feeling, and she crossed the room to embrace her fully.
“Ooh, Olivia.A sheòid, my only daughter…” Her mother sniffled, pulling away just enough to gently wipe her face. “I dinnae think I would get to see this day, yet here you are. Getting ready to marry the man who,” her voice hitched, and she quickly shook her head.
