“We need to be prepared on the very off chance that it does.”
“Ye cannae fall in love with a man in five days.”
“Can ye nae?”
“Maither,” Emma sighed. “Trust me. The last thing ye need to worry about is me falling in love with a man like Jack Barkley.”
A tense silence settled over the carriage, and nothing could be heard for the next minute except the sound of the wheels digging into the soft soil. The rain had cleared a little until there was nothing more than a light drizzle now.
“We are here,” the driver announced as the carriage rolled to the gates.
Emma felt the cold settle in her bones. The gates were much taller than she remembered. But then she didn’t remember much the last time, as she was only trying to find a way out. Now, she could properly study everything. The grey walls that were draped in fresh green ivy, the tall towers that disappeared into the low noon sky, and even the courtyard that seemed to stretch on for miles on the other side of the castle.
Laird MacLeod was wealthy, and now, perhaps for the first time, it was registering just how wealthy he was.
“It is nay wonder people come to him for alliances and nae the other way around,” Olivia commented, echoing her thoughts.
Jack was standing on the steps that led into the main keep. His coat was dark and hugged his shoulders rather nicely. His hair was less tousled than Emma remembered it, and the green in his eyes somehow shone even brighter than before.
She liked to think that the more mischief he was up to, the brighter the color of his eyes.
He did not move until the driver jumped down and swung the door wide for her and her mother.
“Welcome to MacLeod Castle,” Jack said, tilting his head a little. “I’m glad me bride considered doing this in the first place.”
As Emma’s feet landed on the soft soil, a shiver ran down her spine. She did not like the way that word made her feel.
Bride.
Once she was properly settled, she would tell him not to use that word anymore. For now, however, she would let it slide.
“Oh well, nothing is set in stone yet, me Laird.”
A smirk curved his lips, an involuntary reaction to her using his title.
“Of course,” he returned, his tone mild.
Olivia climbed out after her, the cloak around her tight. “Laird MacLeod.”
“Ye must be Lady MacFinn,” Jack said with a brief nod.
“The former Lady MacFinn, if ye will,” Olivia responded, the humility in her voice sickening.
Emma resisted the urge to roll her eyes.
Jack lowered his head a little more in acknowledgement. “Once a lady, always a lady.”
Olivia nodded, and for a few more seconds, they stood in utter silence while servants bustled around them.
Lads that Emma assumed to be stable hands led the carriage toward a shed. Two maids hurried across with a covered basket, and somewhere higher, she heard the click of a window. Her eyes, however, never left Jack’s.
“I hope yer trip wasnae too stressful.”
“The journey was long, me Laird,” Olivia replied, finding the safe ground first. “But it was pleasant enough.”
“Then ye’ll rest well here,” Jack assured.
“I hope so,” Emma said quietly.
