Page 43 of The Laird's Unwanted Wife
Still, Aileen nodded, thankful that she didn’t have to recite their encounter aloud. “But, after it all, he said that … he hoped I nay longer was afraid of being thrown out. That after our … moment,” she added bashfully. “It should be clear what I mean to him.”
Sarah’s brow rose, offering a disgruntled look. “Aye, but ye said it didnae, right?”
Again, Aileen nodded. “I mean, I can assume what he meant by it? Create a grand narrative in me head as to what such vagueness of words could mean, but I shouldnae do that to meself.”
“Aye, that’s right!” Sarah agreed wholeheartedly. “Ye should ken for sure.”
“I mean, he made it seem like he was quite taken with me body,” Aileen went on, rambling somewhat now as the memory of his hands against her bosom flared to life. “And that me womanhood was something to respect and honor …”
“Aileen!” Sarah choked back a gasp, her hands pulling away in shock as she shot her friend a scowling look. “Ye didnae think to mention that before?”
“It … he could have said it out of lust!” Aileen insisted.
“Hen, ye and I both ken how ye see yerself.” Sarah’s startled tone took on a gentler cadence, expression reeling back from shock tosympathy. “How many times had I insisted to ye that yer smaller chest wasnae something to be ashamed of? Or a lack of curves didnae make ye a bad wife-to-be?”
Embarrassment once more rose, flushing Aileen’s cheeks. She quickly hid her face, the palms of her hands doing little to cool her flushed features.
“And it’s nay secret that other men thought similarly, regardless of how foolish I claimed them to be.” Sarah’s hands gently pulled Aileen’s back to her lap, offering her friend a reassuring smile. “So, take it as a good sign that he embraces ye for who ye are, and nae for what others deem properly attractive in a lady.”
“But now what?” Aileen asked. “I’ve already said me piece, and he made it quite clear I shouldnae disrespect him again with such outbursts.”
“Then, daenae make it an outburst,” Sarah offered lightly. “Frame it as … a business proposition.”
“A what?” Aileen sputtered.
“Make it part of his duties as Laird of MacLiddel,” Sarah explained. “If ye arenae certain of yer place here, it will begin to affect how the castle is run. A lady is typically given some form of responsibility over the clan, aye? So, instead of framing it as yer purpose in the relationship, frame it as yer purpose as his lady. He cannae beat around that bush, Aileen. Like it or nay, he’s chosen ye to rule alongside him, and ye cannae do that without proper expectations laid out.”
It sounded horrifically unromantic, but Sarah had a point. And, truth be told, Aileen was desperate for some sort of task to focus on. Especially with Carswell looming just around the corner, even Mollie had picked up on that quicker than she had.
“For now …” Sarah pushed the bowl of meat scraps into Aileen’s hands. “Ye go and help yer sister. The Laird is going to be quite busy the next few days, and it’s unlikely a moment will willingly present itself. So, keep to Mollie. Help her feel safe, and if ye see an opportunity, daenae let it escape ye.” Aileen couldn’t help but tear up a little.
“Thank ye, Sarah. I daenae ken how I will ever repay ye for all yer kindness.”
A mischievous smile crossed Sarah’s lips. “Well, if ye’re looking for suggestions, I wouldnae mind an introduction to the Laird’s man-at-arms. I’ve passed him by a few times in the infirmary, though I hadnae the luck to be assigned that room for daily tasks. If ye were to drop a word with Ms. Blair, though …?”
Aileen smiled, gently wiping the corners of her eyes. “The next time I see her, I’ll request ye’re put on infirmary duty right away.”
23
The afternoon turned quickly into evening, with Aileen keeping to her friend’s suggestion. She spent the rest of her day alongside Mollie, helping train Bannock with the ‘sit’ command while occasionally taking a break for a snack.
As her sister chomped down on a plate of scones, Aileen continued to busy herself with some knitting, hoping to produce a scarf and hat for her sister once the truly bitter winter hit their new home. Even with so many distractions, she found herself entirely distracted by all the wrong things.
Whenever footsteps passed by the sitting room, Aileen immediately perked up, eagerly checking faces to see if her husband was among them. And, when he wasn’t, disappointment filled the void that persisted in her chest.
She did her best to remember Sarah’s words, to simply wait for the opportunity to present itself. But every part of her wanted nothing more than to jump to her feet and track that ridiculousman down. “And what would ye say that ye havenae already, Aileen?” she scolded herself.
“What was that, Leelee?” Mollie asked, her face sticky and covered in crumbs.
Aileen offered a quick smile and a chuckle, abandoning her work to cross the room toward her sister. “I was commenting on how ye’d need a bath after yer snack.”
“Aww, it’s nae fair!” Mollie whined, immediately pulling Bannock’s attention from underneath her chair. “I already had one after dinner!”
“Well, I’m nae the one who smeared jam all over her face,” Aileen pointed out, tapping her sister’s sticky nose with her finger. “Come on, now; ye can have Bannock join ye. I fear she’s become quite musty over the last few days.”
Bannock’s head tilted, acutely aware she was being spoken of, but uncertain of the context surrounding it. In response, Mollie gave the dog a gentle pat on the head, begrudgingly hopping down from her chair before making her way toward the tub. Aileen couldn’t help but chuckle further at the sight. It was as if she’d condemned the poor girl to sleep outside for the night.
“Ye could have used a wet rag, ye ken.”
