A Laird to Hold Angeline Fortin (most important books of all time .TXT) 📖

Grinning broadly, he set her back on her feet and that smug grin became a conceited chuckle when she wobbled to the side like a drunk on a bender. “Don’t think you got away with anything, mister,” her words slurred through her swollen lips. “I’ll still have a thing or two say about this later on.”

He crossed his arms over his broad chest and smirked like the cocky bastard he was. Lord Connor had the savage charisma of an ancient Highlander in his kilt, and oozed posh aristocracy in his tux. This Connor, though—rugged, gorgeous, relaxed and satisfied—was somewhere in between the two. He was the one who’d stolen her heart.

“Aye and I look forward to it, lass.”

Scarlett

“Wait,” Scarlett interrupted the happy moment. Her eyes… and scowl, were all for Donell. “Let me see if I’ve got this right. This isn’t just some cosmic coincidence, you showing up just when we’re talking about you, is it? You’ve been watching us? Listening to us? All this time?”

“No’ all the time, but of late, aye.” Donell shrugged as if it were no big deal that he was eavesdropping on their lives, but Laird had him snatched up by his collar and his feet dangling in the air before his shoulder had time to drop.

“Where were ye last night when my wife’s life was in danger then?” he growled.

“Betcha didn’t see that coming,” Emmy murmured under her breath.

Scarlett didn’t succumb to Emmy’s attempt at humor but it did give her a glimmer of pleasure to see the old man swinging in the air. A little payback for all the times he’d left them hanging with his sudden appearances and disappearances.

Donell squirmed in Laird’s grip, but only succeeded in slipping out of one arm of his jacket. “Ye had the matter well in hand, lad. There was nae true danger.”

“He was shot!” Scarlett protested and another flood of exclamations rose from everyone. Even Emmy’s mirth was subdued by the knowledge that things had gotten real. “It was just a scratch. Hardly worth mention according to Laird but it could have been much worse if the shooter hadn’t been so far away. Why weren’t you there to save him, Donell?”

“Well, I…I…”

Laird dropped him to his feet with a harsh curse then a rueful laugh. “Because I’ve already played my part in this farce. That’s the sum of it, is that no’ so?”

Donell only flattened his lips together and didn’t say a word.

Scarlett stared at her husband, a sinking feeling in her stomach. “What do you mean, Laird?”

“I’ve done my bit,” he answered shortly. “I’ve sired the bairn he needed to see Hugh born.”

Was he saying he’d become expendable to Donell? Surely the old man couldn’t be so cold-hearted. She lifted Hermione into her arms and glared at Donell.

“Am I dispensable then too?”

A fierce glower crossed Laird’s face, then smoothed. “Nay, he needs someone to raise the bairn and keep her safe.”

Surely he couldn’t be trying to justify his theory? Scarlett shook her head in denial. “You could do that, too.”

“I’m nae mother.”

Frustrated Scarlett turned on Donell with worry worming its way into her heart. Not for herself. Only her family. Laird couldn’t be correct. “Tell him he’s wrong,” she demanded.

Old Donell wrinkled his nose at her. “Need I remind ye that ye claimed one more day would be enough to share wi’ him, lass?”

“I said that five years ago when I was simply falling in love with him,” Scarlett shot back, though the words were drenched with pain. Her voice splintered as she continued, “Now he’s my life. My whole world. Everything I have and everything I am revolves around him and our children. You can’t have one without the other.”

Her passionate plea brought tears to the eyes of everyone around her. Even Donell wasn’t immune to her heartfelt declaration.

“Admirable answer, lass.” He gave a satisfied nod. “I always kent I made a good choice in ye. Well, maybe no’ always.”

“Then wh—”

“I told ye, I kent ye’d make it oot safely.”

“Safely being a relative term?”

“Enough,” Laird broke into the argument and scowled at Donell. “If ye’ve had yer eyes upon us all this while, ye might hae given us all some wee clue aboot what was coming.”

“He might have,” Emmy agreed. “But that’s not his style, is it?”

“’Tis why I dinnae want to bring ye here to begin wi’,” Donell countered, his wary blue eyes following Scarlett as she passed Hermione to Rhys and asked him to put her to bed.

“Och, but I’ll miss all the fun, Scar,” he jested though he did as she asked.

Arms free, Scarlett crossed them over her chest and waited for Donell to continue.

“Och, lass, what can I say? Knowing too much about yer future will only hurt ye.”

“Now you’re sounding like Doc Brown.” Scarlett snorted with laughter but there was little amusement in it. “This isn’t Back to the Future, you know? What we don’t know apparently can hurt us.”

And the ones we love. And our friends. And our children’s children’s children.

Scarlett looked to the others for support. Laird merely lifted a hand in a gesture that said he trusted her to speak for them all.

Hugh drew Claire into his arms and nodded.

Even Emmy was content to let Scarlett do the talking.

“First, you didn’t want us here, then you clearly hadn’t planned on us meeting Hugh and Claire. Now you don’t tell us about Jameson before the threat is all too real.” She ticked off the points on her fingers. “So, what else is there? Because I’m willing to bet there is something more.”

Donell pursed his lips, disgruntled by her direct assault, but only scratched his balding pate irritably. No words, but the action spoke volumes.