Page 70 of The Highlander's Fake Wife
Rosie’s shoe scuffed against the cobblestone flooring, hands swinging absentmindedly at her side. “I dunno…I just heard Olivia be awful excited about it. She gets real happy when she’s helpin’ Maither with Forrester, and she says she likes spending time with me.” Rosie glanced upward, staring at Arthur with wide, bright eyes. “I think she really wants one fer herself.”
Arthur blew out a breath. “I think ye’re right.”
“I bet you want one, too!” Rosie beamed. “Ye’re my favorite uncle, after all. So you’ll be a really good faither, too!”
Arthur wasn’t sure quite how to respond to that. The praise sat heavily in his chest, his imagination trying to spin a quiet life with Olivia, her pregnant belly and child in arms. Having his and Flora’s children grow up together, help run the keep, look to their mothers for kindness and fathers for strength.
“There ye are, Rosie!”
Rosie gasped, spinning on her heel as Duncan appeared down the hall with Fergus sprinting alongside him. She immediately took off running into his outstretched arms, squealing loudly as the laird of Marsden spun his daughter in his arms. “Faither, Faither! Uncle Arthur’s gonna tell Auntie ‘Livia he loves her!”
“Well, let’s not cause him further delay doing so, aye?” Duncan set Rosie back onto the ground, giving her head a gentle pat and flashing a warm smile. “Yer maither’s at the back o’the castle with Bonnie; ye an’ Fergus go an keep ‘em company, would ye?”
Rosie nodded curtly, breaking out into a dazzling smile of her own before taking off down the hall, Fergus hot on her heel. Duncan waved her goodbye until she vanished completely, then let out a slightly pained groan, hands pressing against his back.
“The Laird o’ Marsden showing signs o’pain?” Arthur ribbed. “How the mighty have fallen.”
“She slammed right into me!” Duncan argued back, though he held the makings of a smirk at the corners of his lips. “Och, nay; ye’ll see when ye have one of yer own. Terrifying wee besties, always full o’more energy than I’d seen any man show in battle.” He turned to fully face his friend, expression falling somewhat as he genuinely looked at Arthur. “Ye alright?”
Arthur went to nod, but paused. “Duncan…how did ye get over it?”
Duncan’s brow furrowed slightly. “I just stretch a lot more than usual. Stay nice an’ loose when I see her coming. At this point, I ken she’ll always tackle into me in some way or other.”
“Nay, not Rosie,” Arthur scowled. “Not in that way, at least. When ye and yer first wife had her–decided to settle and have children…” He felt his voice weaken in his throat, and Arthur exhaled sharply, doing his best not to show weakness of his own.
Regardless if Duncan caught on or not, he didn’t show it. Instead, he simply propped himself against the wall, stroking his beard thoughtfully as he genuinely mulled the question over. “I was terrified, truth be told. Ye ken the life a laird must live, and wit the highlands so entrenched in violence…” he sighed lightly, rubbing a hand through the dark curls of his hair.
“But, ye still had her,” Arthur said softly.
“Her maither would have beat me black an’ blue if I said otherwise,” Duncan chuckled bitterly. “And, truly, I think it was thanks to Rosie that I managed to marry Alison.”
Arthur was certain he had never heard his friend confess to such a thing. He’d never seen Duncan look so worn down, so…vulnerable before. “How did ye get over yer fear of widowing her? Of leavin’ Rosie behind?”
Another weak chuckle. “I havenae, Arthur. I’m still afraid o’ the possibility, every time I have to pick up me sword.”
“Then, why…?”
Duncan shrugged, pushing himself off the wall as he approached his friend. “Fate had other plans, I suppose? I wasnae going to argue against something I had no control over.” He set a hand against Arthur’s shoulder, with a voice much softer than Arthur was accustomed to. “But, even if I am to go, Rosie has an entire keep to look after her. Kinfolk, allies–Alison herself will be there. That brings me some comfort.”
“And when it doesnae?” Arthur dared to ask. “When ye cannae be satisfied wit ‘some’ comfort?
Duncan’s tone shifted slightly, the soft gaze in his eyes suddenly hardening. “Then, I ensure the highlands daenae need to go to war anymore. I forge alliances, like with Hector. We build a world where we daenae need to fear fer our children’s safety.”
A future where the highlands weren’t constantly at war…Arthur had considered it, certainly, but to hear Ducan so passionately speak of such a dream, it made the idea seem less impossible.
“Yer awful curious about children,” Duncan noted lightly. “Something ye need to tell all of us about?”
Arthur scowled darkly. “The fact ye all think I havenae been a perfect gentleman to me betrothed is unsettling.”
“Och, Arthur! We think nothing o’the sort!” Duncan’s laughter shook deep from his chest, and he swung an arm around Arthur’s shoulders. “She just seems rather taken wit ye, is all. I’m surprised ye didnae give her what she seems to be requestin’. Ye never turned down a request like this before.”
“I’ve never genuinely been betrothed before, either,” Arthur pointed out. “This is far different than a fun time wit’ a lass.”
“Aye, but what about–?”
Arthur knew exactly where Duncan meant to take the conversation, and a hard stare stopped the Laird of Marsden in his tracks. Instead, Duncan shook his head and smiled softly, offering genuine compassion in his tone. “Ye really do fancy the lass, then?”
Arthur nodded.
