Page 67 of The Highlander's Fake Wife
“Ye made sure they didnae, right, Uncle?” Rosie asked.
Arthur nodded gently. “Of course. Me an’ Maesie worked together.”
Rosie glanced off towards the nearby hearth, making a slight face as her own pup chewed on his rope and growled playfully. “I hope Fergus can be as brave an’ strong as Maesie is.”
“Wit’ proper training, he will be,” Arthur reassured. “And remember; yer faither will do everything he can to protect ye while he’s here.”
Rosie’s brow furrowed, visibly confused. “Is he goin’ somewhere, Uncle Arthur?”
Arthur bit his lip; he’d spoken far too out of turn. Maybe he believed his destiny lied in death, but Duncan had his own plans for the future. This wasn’t his place to speak, nor was a child the proper person to speak of such things. “Ah, no, Rosie. I just meant that he’s…” Good God, how was he supposed to dig his way out of this mess? “He’s…he loves ye very much Rosie. And he’ll make sure nothing bad happens to ye.”
Rosie giggled lightly. “Of course he will! He’s me Faither, and that’s what Faithers do.” She hugged Arthur around the neck, exhaling loudly as she shifted in his grasp. “I’m glad he’s me faither, and I’m glad yer me uncle.”
Arthur rubbed her back softly, mind in a frenzy over Rosie’s words. “I’m…glad yer me niece, rosebush.”
It wasn’t long before Arthur’s family arrived at Marsden keep. Olivia, wrapped tightly in her arisaid, felt such intense relief as her mother crossed the castle’s drawbridge. She could barely keep herself together as everyone dismounted, immediately rushing to her mother for an embrace once she was off her steed.
“G-Gracious, Olivia!” Olivia’s mother happily returned the gesture, though broke apart soon after to inspect her daughter. “Are ye alright? Ye werenae hurt, were ye?”
“Nay, m-maither,” Olivia stammered. “Arthur–he didnae let anything happen to me.”
Elspeth appeared next, panic wrought across her face as she, too, pulled Olivia into a hug. “Olivia! I cannae believe it–when Duncan’s kin came to the keep, I thought the worse had happened–!” she shook her head, grasping Olivia’s face gently with a relieved sigh. “I’m so glad yer safe, sweetness. And, Arthur…?”
Olivia offered as reassuring a smile as she could manage. “He’s alright. Poor Òr got the worst of it, but the stablehands say he’ll make a full recovery.”
“Olivia!” Flora was the last to call out, though she looked to be struggling to get down from her horse. Nathan was immediately at her side, carefully lifting her by the waist before setting her gently on the ground. She tried to sprint for Olivia, but her husband put a hand against her shoulder, flashing her a stern look.
“Ye need to rest,” he instructed. “The ride wasnae easy in yer state. If anything,”
“Ooh, daenae start wit me again,” Flora huffed. “I wasnae going to miss my braither’s wedding, and nay leave my sister-in-law without a familiar face!””
Nathan’s expression softened, but his hand remained against her shoulder. “Take it slow. We daenae need to cause more of a stir.”
Flora nodded, making great effort to walk Olivia’s way. Once she was close enough, of course, she immediately grabbed Olivia for a third hug.
“Y-Ye all are wonderful fer makin’ the long journey over here,” Olivia sniffed. “And–and especially with ye feeling so poor in health, Flora.”
Flora flashed a somewhat cheeky grin. “Aye, well, being pregnant will make ye feel sick no matter where ye are.”
Olivia’s mouth dropped open, a wide smile immediately crossing her face. “Oh, Flora–! Yer husband was right; ye shouldnae have made the trip!”
“Ooh, I daenae need ye scolding me, either,” Flora huffed, looping her arm around Olivia’s. “Now, come on! I heard Katie was still around; she an’ Alison owe me a sit-down, an’ I would kill fer a cup o’ tea in me hand right now.”
Olivia chuckled weakly; she was grateful for the impromptu distraction. It had been a long few days of wedding preparations, of crossing Arthur’s path and having to make decisions over their wedding. The food to cook for the feast afterward, the flowers to decorate the hall with; appearing as a loving couple was taking its emotional toll, and she was only just starting to feel capable of socializing again.
The day stretched on without incident, though Olivia noticed how quickly the wedding preparations were being finished. She occasionally bumped into either mothers, both completely in control of organizing their respective tasks. While Elspeth ensured the halls sparkled and were decorated in the best finery, Olivia’s own mother kept the fires stoked and the pots boiling, delighted to share her latest soup combinations or baked good experiments.
“This one is some shortbread using bilberries for a spread,” Olivia’s mother gushed. “And I tried using grouse instead of hare for the meat in this pottage.”
“Oh, gracious, Katherine,” Flora beamed, her spot in the dining room overflowing with dishes. “I’m nearly filled to burstin!”
“Aye, but yer eatin’ fer two now,” Olivia’s mother beamed. “And ye’ve been traveling on nothing but rations fer two days.”
“Maither,” Olivia chuckled, having just managed to finish her previous pottage bowl. “Yer gonna scare poor Flora off.”
Flora quickly shook her head, a hand resting on her stomach. “Oh, nay; I think it’s very sweet of ye maither, especially when she has so much to do fer the wedding.”
Olivia’s mother was practically glowing at Flora’s praise, and Olivia couldn't help but faintly smile. At the very least, some folks were enjoying themselves; even if thoughts of her wedding still filled her with dread, she wouldn’t ruin it for her poor mother. If anything, she deserved an exciting goal to work towards. And, in a strange twist of fate, Olivia never had to explain the ruse to her. Her mother would forever assume the betrothal was true from the start, and Olivia couldn’t take that away from here.
