Leith butters his roll and points to her with his butter knife for emphasis. “Precisely.”
I immediately imagine him out in the woods, an ax in hand, as he swings it powerfully, the wood splintering with one fell swoop.
Oooh, chopping wood. I want to see him chop wood. That sounds like the sexiest thing ever.
I blink in surprise at myself. Who am I, and why are these crazy thoughts coming to me out of nowhere?
He’s muttering about unrealistic expectations and fantasy, and he’s annoying the hell out of me.
I pull out my phone and send him a text.
Romance novels are every bit as valid as regular fictional novels, thank you very much.
His eyes dance with amusement, a sight I’d pay good money to see more often.
“Cairstina’s joined the argument,” he says, a note of humor in his tone that’s rare. He repeats my text.
Islan grins. “She’s quite right, of course, and only little men with little—”
Paisley elbows her and their mum stifles a giggle.
“Only small-minded men think little of romance,” she finishes with a flourish. “Honestly, though, Mum, the story’s almost uncanny.” She shakes her head. “It sometimes feels like the author herself is sitting right here among us, but that isn’t possible…”
Leith glares at her, and she drops the subject. Does he think I’m fool enough not to put two and two together? What does it mean if he’s part of the mob?
Do I care?
Should I?
“We have work to do this evening, son,” his father says, and they go on to talk about all sorts of things that interest me, but I have a hard time following. And a little part of me’s disappointed. Didn’t Leith say he and I would spend the evening together tonight?
“Aye, Dad, we’ve work to do, but not tonight,” Leith says, and my heart soars. “Cairstina and I have much to discuss.”
Islan and Paisley look at each other and burst into giggles. Leith rolls his eyes and exhales, as his brothers enter the room.
“Sorry we’re late,” Mac says, “but you’ll want to know what it is we’ve found.”
I’ve got a forkful of carrots halfway to my mouth when I freeze, mid-bite, at his next sentence.
“Ran into a certain Dougal Reilly in town today.”
My brother?
I drop my fork onto my plate with a clatter.
“Is that right?” Leith asks, his dark brows drawing together. My heart beats a little faster. I’d love for my arsehole of a brother to come toe to toe with Leith when he looks like that.
“Aye,” Mac says. “Pumping petrol, and he had the nerve to come up to me and accuse me of stepping too close to his bloody car.”
“Really?” Leith is clearly interested, and the look on his face makes me feel as if he’s thinking about how he’d handle someone who provoked him on an errand.
“Are you older or younger than your brother?” Flora tips her head to the side curiously. I look to Leith, hoping he’ll give me some guidance on how to respond.
I text him and he translates for the rest of them. “She’s younger, by four years.”
Their mum nods. We all take hearty portions of Scotch broth, a savory soup with leaks and turnip floating in a rich broth. I eat every single blessed bite. It warms me through, my belly pleasantly full.
Paisley clears her throat. “And now I’d like to propose a trip next weekend. Leith’s expressed some reticence, but I’ve already made my plans.”
Leith’s eyes darken. “Where to?”
She holds her head high. “Paris.”
“No fucking way.”
“Leith!” his mom says, but he ignores her and shakes his head.
“You’re not going that far when our Clan could be in danger, Paisley.”
She opens her mouth to protest, but he pushes on.
“I agree,” their dad says, frowning as he takes another bite of his food. He nods. “Leith is right, it’s too risky right now.”
Paisley’s cheeks flush pink and her eyes look bright. “When aren’t we in danger, hmm? Honest to God, it’s always something, isn’t it?”
“Aye, I agree,” Islan says. “You should let her go.”
They begin a right ruckus of an argument, but I quietly eat my dinner in silence, not a text or bit of eye contact with the lot of them. Frankly, I understand her desire to travel and go out with friends, but I also understand why Leith doesn’t want her to go so far away from home. I saw what those men did to Father MacGowen, and I know they won’t stop at anything to enact revenge if they know it’s the Cowen family responsible for the death of their friend.
Dinner is so delicious I hardly even hear the argument that ensues, I’m so intent on the buttery rolls and savory roast, flavored with roasted garlic and onions, so delicious it fairly melts in my mouth. I’m taking a second helping of roasted carrots when Paisley pushes away from the table in a torrent of tears and fairly runs from the room.