Too Scot to Hold (The Hots for Scots Book 8) Page 3

  Vina put her shoulder to the heavy oak door, remembering last summer when it was left open all the time. “He’s blessed because he has ye, Kat.”

  Her sister snorted, and Vina smiled as they stepped inside.

  Last year, Laird Oliphant had gathered his bastard sons together—not realizing he was missing one—and declared since they were all the same age, the only way to determine who would be his heir would be the son who married and produced a son first.

  Finn, the charmer who handled the clan’s trade agreements, immediately married Fiona, the woman he already loved. Fiona must have fallen pregnant soon after their marriage. Finn’s twin brother Duncan, a goldsmith by trade, wanted naught to do with the lairdship, but that didn’t stop him from marrying Skye—who happened to be Fiona’s twin sister—after she held him up on the road to steal his valuables. Both of them had settled into a simple life near Duncan’s forge, and Kat wondered if now they would consider having a bairn or two, since they were now out of the running to be the next laird.

  Rocque—the clan’s commander in charge of the warriors—married next, convincing his long-time mistress Merewyn, the clan’s healer and midwife, of his love. His twin brother Malcolm, his opposite in many ways, decided to use his intellect. He had chosen a woman who already had two sons, believing that made her more likely to birth a third son. Davina had giggled with her sister over how Malcolm had so sorely miscalculated when he’d ignored the possibility of falling in love with his wife and her sons.

  Merewyn and Evelinde—Malcolm’s wife—were both pregnant before Davina and Grandda had traveled back home to Mull last year. The fifth Oliphant wife wasn’t, but Kat’s letters had shared that Lara—somber Alistair’s wife—was now with child, and both seemed pleased, although there wasn’t much likelihood of Alistair’s winning the position of the next laird.

  By the time Davina and Kat had made it to the great hall, the older sister was breathing heavily. “Shall we rest a moment?”

  “Nay, the bairn just has me winded as usual. I’ll see ye settled in yer chamber. ‘Tis the same one we were given last year.”

  When Katlyn winked, Vina wasn’t certain what she was thinking. Aye, the chamber was nice—and the bed was comfortable—but the entrance to the secret passages also held some memories for her. Good memories, but now that Graham had abandoned her, Davina didn’t like thinking of them.

  So, she offered her sister a small, non-committal smile. “Then hold on to my arm while we climb the next set of steps, aye? I willnae be the one to tell Kiergan I allowed his beloved wife to grow tired and fall over.”

  Kat snorted softly, but she did lean more of her weight on Davina’s arm as they climbed. “He’d never let me forget it; he’s always nagging me to be more careful.”

  “ ’Tis because he loves ye.”

  “And I love him, but I trust him to do his job, and he should trust me no’ to endanger our bairn. ‘Tis just that I’m so alarmingly pregnant, and he hovers.”

  “Alarmingly pregnant? Is that a technical midwifing term?”

  Kat’s lips twitched, although she tried to nod solemnly. “Aye, I’m alarmingly pregnant. Lara has finally passed the mildly pregnant stage into the fully pregnant one.”

  “And Evie?” Davina asked, as they reached the top of the steps.

  “She’s dangerously pregnant. When ye see her, ye’ll ken what I mean. And Merewyn herself is absurdly pregnant.”

  Laughing, Davina allowed her sister to pull her into the room she remembered from last year. But instead of looking around, allowing herself to remember, she took Kat’s hands in hers and marveled at the way her sister’s face lit up as she laughed.

  A year ago, Katlyn had been sure she’d never marry and would never carry a bairn. But she’d found a man—a man Vina herself was supposed to marry—who could look past the “curse” of her different colored eyes and love her for the kind, thoughtful person she was.

  Davina squeezed her hands, wanting to keep her sister joyful. “Ye expect me to believe these are all midwifing terms Merewyn uses?”

  “I cannae believe ye’d doubt me!” Kat pulled her hands free and began to tick off points on her fingers. “The first stage is suspiciously pregnant, where ye and others cannae quite be sure. Then comes mildly pregnant; ‘twas the easiest stage for me, but poor Fiona was miserable through that. Then of course is fully pregnant, then verra pregnant.” She pursed her lips in thought, her eyes sparkling. “Then extremely pregnant, which I think I was forever, and now alarmingly pregnant.”

  Willing to keep playing, Davina tried to control her laughter as she tried to remember what else her sister had said. “And after that is absurdly pregnant?”

  “Nay. First comes dangerously pregnant; ‘tis when ye’re just getting used to yer belly and ye keep bumping into things. I broke three mugs that way.”

  Ridiculous! “Aright, dangerously, then absurdly. Then…overwhelmingly pregnant?” she guessed.

  “Ooh, ‘tis a good one! Merewyn calls that stage too pregnant, although I’m going to suggest overwhelmingly pregnant. If she doesnae give birth soon, ‘twill be her classification.”

  ‘Twas impossible to keep track of all the stages, but there was one sister-by-marriage Katlyn hadn’t mentioned yet.

  “And Fiona? Is there a name for her stage?”

  Katlyn’s mismatched eyes sparkled as she hummed somberly. “Ah, aye, the rare case of hysterically pregnant.” But before Davina had the chance to laugh, her sister pulled her into a hug. “I’m so glad ye’re here, Vina,” she whispered, her tone no longer light, her voice shaking.

  Davina’s protective instincts kicked in. “What’s wrong? They are treating ye well, right? Is it the other ladies?”

  “Och, nay!” Kat straightened just enough to smile at her but didn’t release her from the hug. “I love ye and Grandda, but I cannae believe how much I love my new family. All is well.”

  It was the way she winced a bit at that last line which had Vina grasping her elbows. “Kat, what are ye no’ telling me?”

  “All sorts of things!” her sister joked. “Have I written to ye about the ghosts?”

  “The ghosts, plural?” Davina frowned. “I ken of the Ghostly Drummer of Oliphant Castle. Hearing his drumming portends doom.”

  “Aye, although Aunt Agatha has always said it doooooms those who hear him to fall in love. She also says there’s plenty of other ghost and spooky tales associated with Oliphant Castle, but nae one else has claimed to see any of them.”

  The subject of ghosts surely wasn’t the reason her sister had hugged her so tightly. “I dinnae believe ghosts are real, Kat.”

  “I said the same thing, except I keep seeing strange sights nae one else has. Like a sad-looking woman in an auld dress, and a monk who keeps laughing at me.”

  Davina peered closer at her sister and sniffed. Nay, there wasn’t alcohol on her breath, and her eyes looked fine. Mayhap ‘twas the changes in her body which were affecting her mind.

  “I’m sure,” she murmured politely, determined to keep an eye out for these so-called ghosts. One loud drummer was enough, thankyeverramuch. “We have much to catch up on apparently.”

  Suddenly, Katlyn tugged her into another fierce hug. “I’m so glad ye're here,” she repeated, her voice wobbly. “I’ve missed ye so much, and I need ye here at my side.”

  And Davina heard the unspoken words, the unspoken fear. So much could go wrong, even with an experienced midwife on hand. Although she believed the saints wouldn’t finally grant her sister this happiness, only to take it away after such a short time, Davina knew the fear would hang over their heads until Kat’s bairn was safely delivered.

  So she hugged her sister, her eyes closed, inhaling the scents she’d missed for so many months. “I’m pleased to be here too, Kat. And I’ll be here as long as ye need me.”

  And if that meant staying here in Oliphant Castle past the time Grandda wanted to leave, so be it. If that meant staying here while Graham ignored
her, then she’d do her best to ignore him too.

  Because, even if he’d broken her heart, her sister needed her. And that was more important than her pain or bitterness. Katlyn’s safety was paramount, and Davina would endure any embarrassment and pain to ensure it.

  Chapter 2

  It had been lovely to spend the afternoon with Kat, catching up on gossip and stories and laughing together. She was only a year older than Davina, and as Davina had grown up knowing the fate of the MacKinnon clan rested on her shoulders, Kat had been her support. The older sister, who’d been told she was unmarriageable because of her so-called “devil-cursed” eyes, had taught Davina how to run a household and care for their grandfather.

  Now, it was good to have the chance to take care of her.

  Both sisters were rested by the time they—slowly—made their way down to the great hall for the intimate evening meal. Kiergan had stopped in to greet Davina an hour ago but hadn’t mentioned Graham. In fact, no one had mentioned Graham to her, and she couldn’t help but wonder if they were avoiding the subject.

  But he’d be at the meal—‘twas impossible to believe otherwise. Which meant she’d see him then. She’d see him, and possibly have to speak to him, even after knowing he’d professed his love to her, then changed his mind.

  “Davina, lass!” Laird Oliphant roared as he caught sight of her, and it was impossible not to hug the older man. His embrace was bone-crushing, but it always made her feel loved, which was silly, considering he wasn’t related to her. But he hugged her in a way Grandda never did, and she couldn’t help adoring the acceptance.

  “Ye’re sitting by me!” the laird boomed, hauling her up beside him. Then, in a quieter voice, he spoke from the corner of his mouth, “Mainly because that auld fool ye came with cannae seem to keep his hands off of Aunt Agatha, which is, frankly, disgusting. I need a distraction.”

  His mutter sounded so irritated, Davina had to fight to keep from giggling. For certes, Grandda was seated at the other end of the long table on the dais, flirting openly with the laird’s aunt.

  “He’s been pining for her, but he’ll never admit it,” she murmured in response.

  Laird Oliphant harrumphed. “He’d best no’ be expecting her to live in sin. She’s never married, and I ken Father Ambrose would be happy to marry the two of them when he returns from Inverness.”

  Davina almost choked. Grandda marry? For certes, he’d been married years ago, to Mother’s mother. But marry Agatha Oliphant?

  Well, why no’? He’s clearly interested in her and has spoken of her all winter, and apparently, has now picked up right where they’d left off.

  When Laird Oliphant strode toward the table, he kept his arm around Davina’s shoulders, and she had to hurry to keep up. Since he was being so informal, she thought naught of poking him in his side. “Kat tells me congratulations are in order. Ye married Moira at Hogmanay?”

  “Aye!” the large man boomed cheerfully, as he tugged her up onto the dais with him. “The lass finally—finally—said aye to my begging and put me out of my misery.”

  Moira, the Oliphant’s long-time housekeeper, leaned over from where she was directing servants and kissed the laird on the cheek. He loosened his hold on Davina just long enough to sweep Moira into an embrace, which had the plump woman giggling.

  As Davina smiled with pleasure at seeing the two of them so happy, Lara—Moira’s daughter and Kat’s sister-in-law—swooped in for a gleeful hug from Vina herself. After that, Davina felt as if she were being passed from one Oliphant wife to the next, greeting each as if she were a long-time friend. Only Skye and Merewyn—who lived in the village with their husbands—were absent.

  It was so good to see them all. In the time she’d visited Oliphant Castle last summer, these women had become her sisters, and their husbands were her family as well. In the time before the meal began, Davina was also passed from one Oliphant brother to another, laughing and hugging joyfully. Finn teased her as much as Kiergan did, Alistair welcomed her solemnly but with a warm hug, and Malcolm handed her his younger son Tomas—a sturdy young lad now—for a kiss.

  And for a while, Davina forgot about Graham.

  “Sit down!” Laird Oliphant bellowed. “Moira’s got a treat for us!”

  “ ’Tis Cook’s doing,” Moira corrected with a laugh. “Stewed oysters!”

  Beside Davina, Kiergan groaned. “I hate Lent. When can we slaughter a pig?”

  His wife nudged him. “No’ ‘til after Easter Sunday. Dinnae fash, ‘tis only a sennight away! But I have noticed Hero Pig is losing another ear. Do ye think the butcher is eating him a piece at a time?”

  Chuckling, Kiergan launched into an improbable story about a revered pig who’d saved a family from a burning building, as he led the sisters to their seats.

  “Nay, nay, Kier, take yer wife to the other end of the table.” His father suddenly appeared and nudged Kiergan and Katlyn toward Grandda. “I’m sure she wants to sit with her grandfather and catch up on news”—he lowered his voice to a growl—“and keep him from kissing my aunt too much.”

  As the couple moved toward the other end of the table, Davina realized the laird wasn’t done. “Malcolm, ye switch places with Fiona, and Finn’s going to have to go with her so she doesnae fall over— Och, lassie, I’m just teasing ye! Evie, let Liam sit with his Uncle Alistair, and Lara, ye switch places with her. Good! Now, Graham, ye’ll sit…there, aye.”

  As the family began the process of rearranging themselves—laughing and teasing at the laird’s high-handed commands—Davina felt herself freeze. Her blood went cold, her heart stuttered, and her breath paused half-in, half-out of her lungs.

  Graham.

  She was expected to sit beside Graham?

  In front of her, the finely set table swam out of focus, blackness creeping toward the edges of her vision. Not only was she going to have to acknowledge him, but she’d also have to sit beside him? To know he was close enough to touch? To smell his scent and remember what it felt like to be held by him?

  Blessed Virgin, even now she could imagine his heat—

  ”Breathe, Vina.”

  The command came from over her right shoulder, his gentle brogue laced with faint laughter. That’s why she recognized his warmth! Before Davina could think, she sucked in a breath and whirled to face him, the motion making her light-headed after her dazed moment.

  Unfortunately, he realized it and concern flashed across his face as he reached for her arms to catch her. “Steady, lass. ‘Twill no’ be so hard, will it? Sitting beside me?”

  There was a mocking note in his voice, but when she met his dark blue eyes, she saw a hint of hurt there too.

  He was…hurt she didn’t want to sit beside him? But it was he who had been the one who’d—

  Och, dinnae think of it. Just sit beside him at the meal, dinnae speak, dinnae think of him. Make it through this, and ye can escape to yer room.

  So, remembering to breathe—steady, steady—she looked away, pulled herself out of his hold, and sank as gracefully as possible into the chair beside him. ‘Twas not a comfortable chair, but the hard seat would give her something else to focus on.

  Besides the way his shoulders look in that Oliphant plaid—

  Curse her wayward mind! ‘Twas not helping!

  He didn’t try to speak to her again as he settled beside her, but he was impossible to ignore. ‘Twas as if her body were somehow attuned to his in a way she hadn’t realized. Just knowing he was beside her meant her entire right side vibrated with anticipation as it reacted to his warmth.

  Last summer, after he’d learned of her grandfather’s plan to marry her to an Oliphant, Graham had met her here. He’d researched the history of the castle and had known of the secret passages. That first night, when he’d stepped through the wall to crouch beside her in bed, she’d screamed first from fright, and then from joy.

  And later, she’d screamed his name.

  He hadn’t taken her virginity, although
she’d offered herself. He’d said he wouldn’t, not until her grandfather welcomed him as her husband. Since Grandda was holding out for a strong alliance, the bastard nephew of the MacVanish Laird wasn’t good enough.

  Unfortunately, he’d also been unimpressed with Graham’s personal qualities, to the point where even after ‘twas revealed Graham was really an Oliphant, Grandda wanted naught to do with him. The old man had done his best to keep Davina away from Graham after that, but the secret passages had still been useful.

  The night before Davina departed for Mull, Graham had vowed to find a way for them to be together.

  And here they were, together again, but not the way either had imagined.

  “Bread, Vina?”

  Damnation! She couldn’t ignore him when he insisted on speaking to her!

  “Aye, thank ye,” she replied stiffly, keeping her eyes anywhere but on him.

  A piece of brown bread slid onto her trencher beside the oysters, and she was pleased to have some way to soak up the broth. Automatically, she reached for the bread, but her stomach was still clenched tightly enough she knew she wouldn’t be able to taste a thing.

  Around them, conversations swirled, and vaguely, she could hear Finn cajoling his wife into eating something, despite Fiona’s pinched face. Down the table, someone laughed, and Laird Oliphant was murmuring quietly to Moira. But around Davina and Graham, there was a little pocket of silence which grew more and more oppressive.

  “The wine…‘tis good,” he said. She was determined not to look at him, but she saw his hand—that slightly callused, yet incredibly talented hand—reach for his goblet. “I’m glad my father’s family doesnae follow Lenten privations too closely.”

  “Yer father’s family?” she blurted, before she could stop herself. “Ye dinnae consider them yers?” She told herself she was shifting on the hard chair because she was uncomfortable, not because she wanted the chance to catch a glimpse of him.

  “Och, aye, they’re mine.” She saw a shrug flow down his arm. “I’m just… After so long, ‘tis hard to remember I have a place to belong now. If I want it,” he finished quietly.