“Hear what?” I ask.
“The wedding they’re going to. It’sFran’s.”
“Aye, I know.”
“I cannot believe you were the one that designed those gowns,” Paisley says, shaking her head. “Honest to God, they’re the most gorgeous things I’ve ever laid eyes on!”
Leith snorts and shakes his head as the girls talk about the wedding. He smirks at me. “Looks like they won’t be the only ones going to that wedding, eh?”
CHAPTER TEN
Bryn
Mac’s sistersmake it easy to talk to them, and a short while later when his mum returns, we all talk about the wedding, the dresses, and the plans that are happening.
“It’s a bit crazy,” Paisley says. She’s shyer than Islan, will hardly meet my eyes when she talks, but I can tell beneath that shy exterior of hers she’s brilliant and witty.
“Fran met her man online. They only met last weekin personfor the very first time. Isn’t that mental, girls?”
Their mum, Flora, shrugs. “Oh, I don’t know. When you’re talking to people like me and Bryn’s mum, you hear that we all have our own stories, things like arranged marriages." She smiles sadly, and the mention of an arranged marriage makes my own nerves twitch. It's uncomfortable to even think about the possibility. “So when you talk about meeting blokes online, it doesn’t sound that far-fetched.” She sighs. “I suppose many of us made the marriages work despite the challenges, hmm?”
And for some reason, I feel as if she’s speaking directly to me. Could I make the arranged marriage work, and spare Mac from what I have planned? I don't like the thought of hurting him. I hate the thought of doing anything that would harm him. Furthermore, now that I've met his family, I despise the very thought of doing anything that would turn them against me. It's one thing to think of a nameless, faceless enemy, but another thing to see their actual faces.
This family is nothing like mine. This family… likes each other. They welcomed me in here… well, most of them. I wouldn't say their father gave me a very warm welcome. The women, however, actually stood up for me.
“You say that, Mum,” Islan says, shaking her head. “But arranged marriages are archaic. There's no need for something like that in this day and age, and it's a bloody shame to think that it still happens." She turns to look at me. "What do you think, Bryn?”
“I don’t know,” I tell her truthfully. “I mean, I can see why they’ve worked for so long for our families. But even by saying they worked, we may be talking about two different things, aren't we? It works to keep the peace among the clans. It works to keep… children coming.” I cringe. “It works to make sure that those in leadership positions have the power of family behind them. But when we talk about marriage working, maybe our hopes are still pinned on… something a little different.”
“Aye,” Islan says, her voice hardening. “We are. Something likelove.Is it too much to ask for?”
Flora doesn’t respond. Is her own marriage one built on convenience, like my parents’? I don’t say anything about myself. I’m not sure I want to.
I butter a scone and drink the scalding tea.
“God, this is delicious,” I tell her. “Our staff makes good food, but this scone’s amazing.”
It turns out this is the right way to change the subject. Paisley's eyes light up, and she begins to tell me about all of her baking lessons the staff has recently given her.
Flora shakes her head. “Now the only reason why you girls have this notion oflovein your heads is because of those novels you’ve been reading.”
“Novels?” I ask, curious why she’d blame the hope of love on a novel.
Islan snorts. “Now, don’t you go lecturing us for reading romance novels. You know as well as us that you’ve read every single damn one of them. Haven't you?" She gives her a teasing look, and Flora actually smiles.
“Well, of course I have," she says. "But at least I have the ability to discern between fiction and reality. These novels don't give you an ideal view into what actually happens in a marriage, do they?"
“Of course they do.” We look up to see the door swinging open, and an older woman with her gray hair pulled into a knot at the back of her head comes waltzing in. “Och, we’ve got fresh scones and muffins and a guest. Looks like I’m just on time.”
Mac takes a seat beside me. “Nan, meet Bryn. Bryn, Nan.”
“Pleased to meet you, Nan,” I say, extending my hand. She waves me away.
“No need for formalities, lassie, you have a seat beside your man. Bryn… what a bonnie name for a bonnie lass. Dinnae ken when I heard such a lovely name, do you, Flora?”
Flora’s eyes dance. “No, I don’t.”
“Now, then,” Nan says with a smile. “Were we talking about those romance novels? I’m a bit disappointed we haven’t had a new one since last fall. I mean, if a lass can’t get a real-life snog, she can read about it, hmm?”
