Page 25 of The Laird's Unwanted Wife
An offended scoff escaped Sarah. “How horribly unromantic! And ye’re all right with this?”
Aileen shrugged her shoulders carefully. “He takes land I have nay interest in managing, and meself and Mollie are protected from further dangers. It’s a perfectly acceptable arrangement.”
“Perfectly horrid, if ye ask me,” Sarah mumbled under her breath. “Though … I suppose if I had to choose between this and Laird Carswell, this arrangement is far superior.” She offered a hand to Aileen, helping her to her feet as she inspected her work fully. “Laird MacLiddel’s mad for thinkin’ he can resist yer charms. Ye look like the fair folk’s queen, Aileen!”
Aileen’s blush grew hotter, offering a shy smile Sarah’s way. “It’s all yer handiwork, Sarah.”
“Well, nay. I can hardly take credit for such a perfect canvas to work on.” Sarah exhaled lightly as she gestured toward the door. “Ye ready to work yer charm on yer betrothed?”
“Ye put far too much faith in me,” Aileen laughed.
“Nay! I ken ye well, Aileen, and ye have far more persuasive power than ye think,” Sarah replied with a wink.
Did she, really? Aileen rolled the compliment around in her head; she had come this far in lifesomehowor another, so perhaps her friend was right. It was a nice thought, believing she had some control over her marriage. To have a genuine romance with her husband … it was something Aileen had dared to hope for all her life. Marcus hardly seemed interested in such trivial matters, but, then again, Marcus was no longer involved in her life.
From here on out, everything would be up to Aileen herself.
13
Gerald forced his foot to remain still as he stood within the council’s meeting room. It had been simply decorated for the wedding, the typical rise where he and his council usually sat was now where the priest stood. A few benches had been placed to form an aisle of sorts, with the MacLiddel clan seated on one side, and the council sat up front.
At some point, the MacGunn council had finally made their appearance, a collection of—quite frankly—old men looking close to the point of breaking. Not that Gerald could blame them, what with their clan completely collapsing in on itself.
He stood at the back of the room, staring at the door while his impatience coursed throughout his body. Were weddings always such long ordeals? Gerald couldn’t recall when he’d last gone to a ceremony, but being a guest was vastly different from being the husband-to-be.
Something had to fill the awkward silence, so Gerald cleared his throat loudly, catching the attention of the crowd. “Thank ye all for coming today. We are especially grateful to the council of Clan MacGunn for making the journey over.”
The MacGunn Clan nodded their acknowledgment, albeit a bit stiffly.
“While the circumstances of this wedding are unusual,” Gerald continued. “It is me greatest hope that both MacLiddel and MacGunn can come together as a united front, for the sake of our offspring’s future. They shouldnae have to live amidst a highland bloodied by war and conflict. Let us take this as an opportunity to move forward and take the first proper steps toward peace.”
A few voiced their agreement to the sentiment; war had taken quite a bit from the previous generations, and the people were obviously exhausted from it all. Even the MacGunn council seemed to be on the same page, though Gerald knew he couldn’t end his speech just yet.
“But daenae be mistaken,” he continued, his voice dropping to a chilling octave as his expression hardened. “While I encourage cooperation between MacGunn and MacLiddel, I would like to remind our visiting council who they owe their lives to. If anyone wishes to follow the previous Laird of MacGunn down his traitorous path, well …” His eyes flashed dangerously. “I’m happy to show ye how I earned me title as the Beast of Braeriach.”
The atmosphere immediately became tense, with the MacGunn’s council looking especially uncomfortable. It had to be stated clearly, though; the clans may be merging, but Gerald would offer little trust to the citizens of a traitor. If they wished to stay within his walls, they would need to earn his loyalty. He was certain the point was made, and it would be up to each member of MacGunn to make the right choice?—
“Gerald!”
The door suddenly flew open, slamming against the wall as Mollie came sprinting down the aisle. Her dress was the sapphire one he’d seen during her showing, with Bannock expectedly glued to her side, similarly dressed in a matching scarf.
A few members of the crowd let out soft chuckles and croons, completely fixed on the sudden entrance of the small child as she—without any fear or hesitation whatsoever—ran straight up to the Beast of Braeriach.
“Leelee’s all dressed now! She’s way prettier than when she was with Laird Carswell! Ye have to see for yerself!” Mollie immediately grabbed the Laird’s arm and began to pull furiously, Bannock rounding behind and nudging his leg with her head.
Gerald did everything in his power to remain stoic, though it was far easier said than done. Part of him insisted he chastise Mollie verbally, admonish her for acting so disrespectfully in front of so many important people.
But the other half—the one who would willingly burn the Highlands to the ground for the sake of this child’s safety and happiness—won out, and Gerald allowed himself to be led by the hand down the aisle and out through the door. “Mollie, lamb,” he began, warming the tone of his voice considerably. “Ye ken I’ll see Aileen soon enough, aye?”
“Aye, aye, but ye have to see her right now!” Mollie insisted. “It willnae be the same if everyone else sees her at the same time!”
Gerald was certain it would have been. Yet, as he allowed himself to be pulled around the corner, he came face-to-face with a sight he wanted to keep all to himself. Aileen stood beside her new maid friend, the pair arm-in-arm as they seemed to be in mid-conversation. At least, until Gerald had unexpectedly appeared; now, Aileen stared at him wide-eyed, her mouth slightly parted as the subtle rouge of her lips caught against the torchlight.
The dress was … breathtaking, to say the least. A beautiful, rich green that would be right at home amidst the evergreens, and her hair had been done in such fantastic loops and knots, tied all together with an assortment of wildflowers dotting the frigid landscape.
Now, more than ever, she truly looked the part of a wintry fairy. A true daughter of Cailleach; a beautifully elusive deer amidst the snowbanks of his territory. Something stirred deeply inside Gerald’s chest, an almost primal urge to grab Aileen by her waist and immediately take her to his room. Instead, he gritted his teeth and clenched his fists, finding a crack amidst the stone wall suddenly far more interesting to stare at.
“I ken it’s a lot,” Aileen stammered sheepishly. “Sarah insisted on the flowers.”
