Chapter Fifteen #4
The three women hugged and laughed and danced the best they could with Raelynd being so large. It was only after several minutes of revelry and talking about how Cyric, her husband, had finally been able to break away that they remembered they were not alone and why everyone was there.
The bride. The bride whom no one knew. The bride whom everyone was here to meet.
It seemed they really had little interest in Conan.
They wanted to meet her. To see her and determine what kind of woman Conan was willing to marry and just could possibly be willing to marry him. Mhàiri was tired of it.
“Rowena,” Meriel said, grinning and gasping for breath, “meet Mhàiri.”
Like everyone, Rowena’s eyes grew wide with surprise, and then what could only be labeled as a skeptical smile followed. It was as if they were surprised by her appearance and then had trouble envisioning her with Conan. “Why does everyone do that?” Mhàiri asked bluntly, pointing to Rowena’s face.
“What?”
“That look of surprise. Don’t deny it. You are not the only one. Practically everyone does it when they first meet me. Why?”
Rowena looked back at her friends, who seemed just as shocked by the small outburst. But her husband, Cyric, was very gifted in the ways of diplomacy, and over the years she had learned a few things.
First was not to be affronted by honesty.
In fact, do the opposite and embrace it.
Rowena sat down beside Mhàiri. “I guess you do probably feel like a specimen being inspected, but trust me, if my expression is like everyone else’s, you have not been found wanting. ”
Mhàiri swallowed. “Well, that is a relief. But that smile was not one of happiness. It was more amazed than genuine.”
Rowena laughed. “Well, first, I was surprised at how beautiful you are. I mean, you truly are stunning. Conan may be a very good-looking man, but he is a difficult one. And since you are being blunt, I will, too. I am not a beautiful woman—”
“You are too!” came the cries from her best friends and distant cousins.
“I am far from unpleasant, but I am not a beauty and I know it. I’ve watched many beautiful women, though, over the past few years.
My husband works directly for and with the king in diplomacy matters so I have seen too many to count around court.
And beautiful women, well, usually seek someone who would fawn over them.
They certainly would not be interested in a man with Conan’s difficult temperament.
As far as my mischievous smile, you are not just marrying a McTiernay.
You are marrying Conan—the McTiernay everyone has heard of. ”
Mhàiri was not sure she could handle another story about Conan and his life before meeting her. And what she had discovered was that those who only knew Conan by reputation were spreading what they had been told, not the truth.
Mhàiri wanted to say it was physically impossible to have been with that many women, to have scorned them and left their hearts bleeding as he heartlessly walked away.
She knew the truth. His eye had been caught by a pretty face numerous times, and he could count on one hand how many had turned him down for a kiss.
But it had never gone beyond that because by that time he had found nothing beyond their looks of any interest. He had limited his actual sexual activities to a couple of widows.
Who they were she did not know and hoped never to find out.
That was his past. What was important was that Conan had not touched another woman since meeting her, including the times they had not been talking.
Despite most everyone’s stories about Conan being drenched in fiction, the tales kept coming .
. . usually over dinner and in the earshot of Conan himself.
It had taken everything in Conan not to stand up, pummel the storytellers, and create a scene that launched a massive fight.
It had happened once before, Maegan had told her, but Mhàiri knew the reason Conan did not was because of her.
What was worse were the looks from people who did know Conan. They just could not believe someone was willing to deal with his rude behavior. Raelynd had been the worst of them.
She and Meriel were not on bad terms with Conan, but neither were they really on good terms with him either.
They enjoyed sniping at him and pushed him to snipe back.
A couple weeks ago at dinner, both women had been relentless, and when he had had something to say to Mhàiri, he had used the same tone and surliness.
“This is all your fault,” he had said, the malicious tone unmistakable and aimed directly at Mhàiri.
“If you had simply told Laurel no and gotten married when we first wanted to I would not have to put up with any of this, especially those two.” His eyes darted to a hostile Raelynd and then Meriel, who at least looked apologetic for pushing him so far.
It was the first time that any visitor had heard Conan be rude to Mhàiri. They had all known he would eventually and stared at Mhàiri to see her response. Would she explode in anger, making him explode in kind? Would she meekly apologize?
Mhàiri had studied him for a moment and then shrugged.
“What really is angering you is that I would do all of this”—she twirled her fork around in the air—“again if we had the option. I have no regrets about wanting a wedding, nor will I suddenly attain them because you, Meriel, and Raelynd cannot act like mature adults in each other’s company. ”
Meriel’s jaw had dropped, but Raelynd, who had been listening intently to see how Mhàiri would explode and rip into Conan like she would have, had sat frozen with shock.
Her eyes had swiveled to her husband, Crevan, for support.
He had just thrown up his hands and said, “You know it’s true.
You have been intentionally poking at him every night, waiting to see what will happen. ”
“You should have said something!” Raelynd had shouted at him. “I’m pregnant, not fragile!”
Creven had shaken his head. “Not until my babe is safely in this world.” Raelynd had sat and fumed and probably would have said more if Conan had not made a threat.
“If you feel that I am so immature, maybe I should leave.”
Mhàiri had bobbed her head. “That is one of the better ideas you’ve had in a while. Go test our cart for a week. By the time you return, everybody will have to be here and we can finally marry.”
While that had been the perfect response for Conan, it had been the wrong one for everyone else.
Mhàiri had been expected to get mad and yell, like all other McTiernay wives.
Some had begun to wonder if her and Conan’s relationship was not one of passion, but more one of convenience.
The craziest rumor following that night had been that she was afraid of Conan.
Then, yesterday, all those rumors, thoughts, and concerns had been put to rest. Mhàiri had not been looking for a reason to fight with Conan, and yet that was exactly what had happened.
She had gone to her old room in the Warden’s Tower to get one of her hemp books and discovered that every last book was missing.
She had charged into Conan’s room and found them safely among his things.
Unfortunately, he had not been there to explain why he had had them moved . . . but he had been in the courtyard.
“Of course I moved the damn things!” he had yelled back. “Do you know who is sleeping in your chambers? Donald and Brighid and their three sons.” He had waved three fingers in her face.
Mhàiri had forgotten this, but felt it did not matter if Conan had a good reason to move her things.
He had done so without telling her; therefore, he should have expected she would be angry.
“And what would your reaction be if you suddenly found all your things gone from where you knew them to be just because someone got it in their head that they weren’t safe? ”
“But they weren’t safe!”
“They were mine to move!”
“Aye, and that’s why I did it! But trust me, I won’t make that mistake again!”
All throughout the argument, more and more people had surrounded them.
Those from McTiernay Castle had stopped for a moment because it had been something new to watch Conan and Mhàiri raise their voices, but after a few minutes they’d realized it was no different from Laurel and Conor.
The others, however, had been intrigued and their eyes had been completely glued on the two of them.
As a result, it had been impossible to make up after their argument, which was doubly upsetting because she had won.
Rowena patted her knee with a smile, bringing Mhàiri’s attention back to the women surrounding her. “Cyric told me to tell you that Laird MacInnes’s group has been spotted and is less than a day away. He will be here in the morning.”
Laurel clapped her hands together. “Mhàiri, he is my grandfather and Conan’s godfather. Once he is here, there is no reason to wait any longer.” She leveled her gaze on Mhàiri, whose heart started rapidly beating. “Tomorrow afternoon at sunset, we are going to have a wedding.”