Page 31 of The Laird's Unwanted Wife
“I think this color will pair well with the Laird’s outfit,” Sarah said. “Shows ye’re a unified front to Laird and Lady Kincaid.”
Aileen nodded numbly, letting Sarah completely take control of her dressing. Had last night actually happened, then? How could Gerald still treat her with such respect after she so boldly called him a liar?
“He could have long since thrown me out, and yet …”
“Who could have thrown ye out, Aileen?”
She glanced over her shoulder, catching the concern on Sarah’s face. Her maid finished lacing the back of her dress, gently braiding her hair in a thick fishtail as she patiently waited for ananswer. “Ah … nothin’, Sarah. I … I think I’m still a bit dazed from a nightmare I had.”
“Oh, ye poor dear!” Sarah quickly finished the braid, offering her friend a quick hug. “I ken things have been difficult, but I truly believe the Laird will keep ye and Mollie safe. And, now that I’m here,” she added with a smirk and a wink. “There isnae a thing that can stop ye now, aye?”
“Aye,” Aileen agreed weakly, though she could hardly feel her friend’s confidence. She’d been such a brat last night, and her stomach knotted at the prospect of hosting not only another powerful laird but also facing Gerald. She inhaled deeply, straightening her posture and folding her hands against her lap as Sarah moved to open the door. At least for now, she had no choice but to play pretend.
If Geraldwasupset with his new wife, he certainly wasn’t going to show it in front of the company. Aileen sat stiffly in her chair as he appeared fully engaged, leading the conversation entirely with the esteemed Laird and Lady over luncheon. Laird Kincaid—Evander, as Gerald referred to him—spoke in a fairly monotonous tone, seemingly uninterested in the topics of discussion.
Yet based on his posture, straight and attentive, it was obvious that the Laird was a man of focus, his mind visibly taking in information before carefully crafting his next response. It almostreminded Aileen of a feline, continuously poised to pounce whenever necessary.
“Duncan was quick to agree with yer proposal,” Evander said, his goblet of ale held loosely in his hand. “And Hector … well, ye ken Hector.”
“I’m certain he kicked up a fuss,” Gerald chuckled, though there was a distinct lack of humor in his voice.
“Arthur seemed quick to agree to yer division of the lands as well,” Evander continued, though his attention turned immediately to his lady, as if to indicate his desire to hear her own opinion on the matter. Keira—Aileen reminded herself—she sat in a plush chair brought in by Gerald’s request, a hand resting on her fairly pregnant abdomen. Aileen couldn’t imagine traveling in her state, yet Keira seemed like the type who would follow her husband to the ends of the earth.
“I have a suspicion Laird MacDonnell is pouring most, if not all, of his attention toward his wife’s previous clan,” Keira explained. “Marcus had done quite a bit of damage within their ranks. It’s been difficult to root out those still corrupted by his false promises.”
Aileen caught the tightening of Gerald’s jaw. She wanted to reach across and take his hand, but found herself unable to move. “And what do ye say, Evander?” Gerald asked stiffly. “Are ye satisfied with me proposal?”
Evander reached out to grasp Keira’s hand, settling his palm against her stomach as well. A zing of jealousy ran through Aileen, and she couldn’t help but clutch her hand against her heart.
“Truthfully, I daenae mind it. Wrangling Marcus’ clans beneath me banner will be hard enough, even with the smaller amount I was given. I daenae need any further chaos before me child is even born.”
“Of course,” Gerald said. “Though I daenae wish for ye all to fold simply for the sake of ease. If ye genuinely are displeased with me division?—”
Evander shook his head. “I wouldnae wish to insult the new Lady with talk of greed.” He turned to face Aileen, much to her surprise. “Ye are gracious to even offer parts of yer brither’s territory to us.”
“I hope we may repay it with an invitation to our keep,” Keira added brightly. “When all is settled here within yer home, I would love us to become friendly over tea.”
Aileen could only offer a nod in response, still staring at the intertwined hands of both the Lady and Laird of clan Kincaid. A part of her ached terribly, wishing she could hold her own husband’s hand in such a tender manner.
That he, perhaps, would reach out first, that they could be comfortable before others showcased such affections. But, if last night was an indication of their future, Aileen had a terriblefeeling that it was simply never to be. And, perhaps next time, her outburst wouldn’t be rewarded by being carried sweetly off to bed.
He had hoped to have a moment alone with Aileen after Evander and Keira’s departure. Gerald knew the pair wouldn’t stay long—Evander wasn’t one for sitting still too long, and he was certain he was worried about Keira’s being with child, so he was certain an opportunity would arise between them.
Their interaction from last night still buzzed incessantly in his head, and he wanted nothing more than to remedy any confusion left between them.
Gerald fought against the urge to push the Kincaids out the door too quickly. He was still a laird first and foremost, and he did his best to act the part while his allies were within his keep. And all the while, Aileen sat in the chair beside him like a frozen deer in the sights of a hunter.
Perhaps she feels remorse for her actions last night,Gerald wondered as he watched the main gates close behind the Kincaids. Perhaps he had a chance to make things right.
That was the plan, at any rate. And, like any good plan he tried to make, it was inevitably ruined by others.
Mere hours after the Kincaids had left, Gerald found himself suddenly hosting two more of his allies—Lairds and Ladies Marsden and MacKimmon—having traveled from the Marsden keep to offer congratulations and fully discuss the new division of Marcus’ land.
The castle was soon filled with the delighted shrieks of little girls, as Mollie was absolutely taken by the arrival of both Rosie and Bonnie and their dogs.
“Come on, Fergus!” Rosie squealed as her young pup scrambled to keep up with the pack. “Hurry, hurry!”
“Pipkin’s way faster than the pair of ye!” Bonnie insisted, patting her deerhound on the head as the duo quickly took the corner and sprinted across the sitting room.
