Page 6 of The Laird's Unwanted Wife
An unfamiliar warmth bloomed across Gerald’s chest, and he gently lifted his good arm to grasp Mollie’s. “Aye. A laird’s promise, wee one.”
“L—Laird?” Leelee asked.
“Aye,” Gerald nodded. “Laird MacLiddel, of the wintry clans up north.”
Laird MacLiddel. The Beast of Braeriach. Her brother’s closest ally, and he was here, of all places. And she’d pointed a sword—his sword—directly at his face. Aileen felt her legs give out beneath her, dropping the sword to the ground as she quickly fell before the man. “Me Laird,” she managed to get out. “I…I’m so sorry, I didnae realize it was ye.”
“Would that have stopped ye from attackin’ me?”
Aileen bit her lip, still staring down at the floor. It wouldn’t have, of course. She would take on the whole of the Highlands to keep Mollie safe. Bannock seemed to reciprocate the feeling, a low growl rumbling deep within the back of her throat.
“Bannock really doesnae like ye, sir,” Mollie said.
Much to Aileen’s surprise, the terrifying laird of the winter lands chuckled in reply. “Titles and names daenae mean much to beasts, wee lass. I’m very much still a stranger to her.” The sounds of shuffling soon followed after, and Aileen dared to lift her head and watch as Laird MacLiddel began to step around her brother’s study. He peered through shelves and opened various drawers, his injured arm still held against his chest.
“Do ye need help, me Laird?” Immediately, Aileen scolded herself internally. Why would a great laird need the help of some bastard’s daughter?
“Nay. I’ve been in this study plenty of times to ken where he kept everything …” Laird MacLiddel suddenly paused, slipping what appeared to be a bottle of whisky hidden between the books on the shelves. With a nod, he proceeded to down the entirety of its contents, leaving Aileen to stare in wonder. Now that her vision wasn’t obscured by the wardrobe’s interior, the Laird of the MacLiddel clan really was a sight to behold.
He appeared just as powerful and well-built as she expected, with dark curls of hair tied off at his shoulder, along with a neatly kept beard that likely helped fight back against the bitter cold found in his territory. But it was his eyes that caught heroff guard; a brilliant emerald-green that was more reminiscent of the rolling hills of summer than the cold wintry land he was known to hail from.
Aileen watched him quickly tend to his arm. He first undid the arm guards and rolled his sleeve to check for damage. She nearly swooned at the sight of his well-toned forearm, thick with hair and hardly a scratch across its surface. “Aye—yer beast nearly bit through the leather,” Laird MacLiddel remarked, almost sounding impressed.
“Bannock is … incredibly protective of Mollie,” Aileen explained. “Especially now, with our clan having seemingly lost their minds.”
The Laird glanced up, curiosity sparking behind those enchanting green eyes. “Yer clan, lass? Ye’re part of the Hughes family?”
Perhaps she had said too much.
“Marcus never spoke of siblings,” Laird MacLiddel continued. “Nor of a wife and child.”
“He’s nae me husband,” Aileen quickly refuted.
“Could have fooled me,” Laird MacLiddel replied, gesturing to Mollie. “She’s practically his mirror’s reflection.”
It was too late to lie, now. Aileen shook her head once more, still kneeling on the ground out of respect. Or perhaps her body had finally given up, too weak to rise on its own anymore. “We … our maither wasn’t the proper lady of the castle. But Marcus let us stay within the clan until … recently.” She felt the Laird’s eyes run across her, seemingly fixated on her scarlet dress.
She hadn’t the time to change from it, but was regretting not doing so. At least in a plainer frock, she had a better chance of portraying herself as a simple stranger. Though she had a suspicion Laird MacLiddel would have gotten the truth out of her, regardless of how she looked or what fibs she told.
Marcus had siblings. No, more than that. Marcus had a pair of sisters he’d told nobody about. Gerald shouldn’t have felt as surprised as he had, nor felt the sting of betrayal any more powerfully than learning his ally had been a traitor for the entirety of their friendship.
And yet, as he stared down at the disheveled state of the pair, of Leelee still bowing across the ground, something inside him snapped. He turned toward Mollie, her dirtied face still somehow holding fast to childish hope, and posed a question. “Mollie, would ye like to come with me?”
Immediately, Leelee’s head rose, her expression wrought with panic. Mollie seemed to pick up on her sister’s worry, as her own brow knitted with a level of concern no six-year-old should ever display. “Can … can Leelee and Bannock come, too?”
Gerald nodded. “Aye. They’re welcome as well.”
A delighted squeal escaped the girl’s throat as she turned to her sister, her hands excitedly pushing against Leelee’s shoulder. “Leelee, Leelee! We’re goin’ to have a home again! Come on, let’s go!”
Bannock immediately joined Mollie’s side, nuzzling underneath the girl’s chin before giving a warning growl at Gerald’s way. Even so, Leelee continued to stare at the floor, her face pale and her gaze distant.
“I think yer sister’s a wee bit surprised,” Gerald said.
“Aye. I think she is, too,” Mollie agreed.
Well. Nothing to be done about it, then. Gerald suddenly stepped toward the pair, Leelee visibly flinching with each thud of his boots. She recoiled as he slipped his arms around her waist, only to turn her to his right side and position her in a more bridal-style hold. “I?—”
“Ye’re nae goin’ to leave yer sister, are ye, Leelee?” Gerald asked.
