Page 75 of Highlander’s Forbidden Fruit

“Eat some yerself. Naught but skin and bones. I will nae have John accuse me of switching brides on the wedding day. Put some flesh on yer bones.”

Evanna ate a little. The thought of eating and beautifying herself for John made her sick. Her virgin skin had been branded by Aleck and even considering the remote possibility of someone else touching her felt like a betrayal. How could she share with another that which she had given exclusively to the man she loved?

It rankled her that John would lay claim to her on their wedding day, and she would not be able to refuse. How could she after taking him as her husband in front of her clan and God? But it was a bitter concoction to swallow. John was a handsome man, he was attractive, and could be attentive when he felt like it, but Evanna didn’t think she had it in her to physically betray Aleck.

But that was a problem for the future. She wouldn’t ruin Christmas thinking about the wedding and what would follow after.

“Let’s go for a walk, Da,” she persuaded her father once lunch was reduced to crumbs and cores. “Ye could use the fresh air.”

“Ye want me to freeze to death?” Laird MacLeod accused, his eyes glinting mischief. Evanna was delighted to see the old playful spark in his eyes.

“And ye a Laird?” she mocked. “I’d have thought ye’d be made of sterner stuff. But old age is harsh and makes weaklings of everyone. Let me summon a litter for yer frail bones.”

“Ye sly minx,” Laird MacLeod laughed. “Yer worse than yer mother.”

“If this is what Ma had to put up with then I’m on her side. Ye can be a right bairn at times, Da.”

“Says the wee lass who couldnae find her way around the castle she was born and raised in.”

“That was one time!”

Chuckling, Laird MacLeod got up on steady legs and followed her out of the room and down the hall. Evanna saw the men and women decorating the castle, and going about their chores, stop and bend in greeting and respect as their Laird passed them by and exchanged pleasantries. The Laird asked after their children and their farms. Evanna saw how much they loved him, how their eyes brimmed with tears to see their sick Laird walking about and talking to them like he used to. The washwoman, Jane, even took his hand and kissed his knuckles, she was so overcome with emotion.

“God bless ye with a long and happy life, Laird,” she said tearfully. “Ach, but it gladdens my heart to see ye like this.”

“Like an old codger shuffling about?” the Laird joked.

“Goodness nae!” Jane was horrified. Her rough red hands flew to her cheeks in panic.

“I’m only pulling yer leg, lass, dinnae fret,” he patted her hand. “‘Tis Christmas eve and what kind of Laird would I be if I didnae see to my people? Has me daughter been a good mistress to ye?”

“Aye,” Mrs. Lane piped up from behind Jane. “She’s been marvelous.”

“Generous with me money, isnae she?”

“Of course. That’s why we love her more,” Mrs. Lane said with a straight face.

The Laird laughed uproariously, his reduced belly jiggling slightly under his shirt. Color suffused his cheeks, and he looked younger. “Yer a cheeky one, Mrs. Lane. I’ve always liked that about ye.”

“And I’ve liked working for ye, my Laird.” Mrs. Lane curtseyed.

“And ye!” Laird MacLeod fixed his hard stare on Sarah who immediately froze behind Mrs. Lane’s skirts. “Do ye miss yer family?”

Sarah opened and closed her mouth like a fish out of water, but no sound came out. Eventually, she gave up on her voice and nodded her head.

“Good. Send an invitation to the feast tomorrow. They can spend Christmas at the castle with ye.”

Sarah beamed like a miniature sun.

“Now, daughter.” He turned and offered Evanna his arm. “Let’s go for a walk. I’d like to show ye off to the rest of the castle.”

“Are ye sure that’s wise?” she teased. “Ye’ve caused quite a sensation in the castle already. Work was delayed by five minutes.”

“Ten, surely,” Laird MacLeod countered. “And a Laird can possess such vanity.”

“Aye, but what of the people?”

“What of ‘em?”