Confusion flickered across Marissa’s face. “What else do ye want to ken?”
“Is he handsome?” Abigail asked. “Does he seem kind? What is he like?”
Marissa considered this for a moment. She had been so shocked when she first met the Laird that she hadn’t given much consideration to his looks.
“He’s…” She paused, searching for the right word to describe her betrothed. “Rugged.”
Abigail cocked her head, clearly wanting her to elaborate.
Marissa sighed. “He has a big, bushy beard. And he was a bit dirty if I’m bein’ honest. But he said he’d only just gotten his men to his castle before ridin’ here, and he hadnae had a chance to wash up before he left.”
“So ye dinnae ken what ye think of him.”
It was not a question, but that didn’t stop Marissa from responding.
“I ken that I’m intrigued,” she said honestly. “He seems to have a wicked sense of humor, which I like, and he just wants a wife to keep his council off his back.”
“What does the reason why he wants a wife matter?” Abigail questioned.
“Because he may leave me alone once his council leaves him alone.” A wistful look flitted over Marissa’s face. “If I’m lucky, I’ll have all the time in the world to write. I can craft me stories, I can live me life. I can visit ye. And mayhap I can even be friends with me husband.”
Her sister arched an eyebrow at her. “And ye want only to be friends with yer husband?”
Marissa shrugged. “It would be nice enough. I dinnae want to give meself hope for anythin’ more than that. Especially when it has all worked out for the better.”
“And how is marryin’ a man that ye didnae ken existed until an hour ago for the better?”
“Because,” Marissa explained with a sigh, “it’s thanks to Laird Reid that I was able to secure safety for Freya and Michael. And for ye while ye’re livin’ here. And I willnae be a burden on them anymore.”
Abigail studied her for a moment. When Marissa had begun walking toward her sister’s room, she’d been certain that Abigail would be so excited she’d barely be able to contain it.
Because while Marissa had never had fanciful ideas of love and marriage, Abigail always had. Her younger sister had always been drawn in by tales of knights rescuing damsels and ladies living happily ever after.
So why was Abigail not excited about her sister getting whisked away by a mysterious man?
“What is worryin’ ye?” Marissa asked.
She couldn’t say why, but she was very suddenly worried about her sister’s response.
Yes, she had been incredibly nervous when the Laird had first shown up. For her entire life, Marissa had been certain that she did not want to marry. But during her conversation with Arthur Barkley, she had gotten used to the idea. She could see all the potential benefits an alliance and marriage to the man would bring, not only to her life but to the lives of those she loved.
Marissa had been certain that Abigail would see that. But now that she didn’t, it had her second-guessing everything.
“I fear ye are walkin’ into the beast’s den, Marissa.”
Abigail’s voice was low and filled with a worry that Marissa hadn’t often seen from her carefree younger sister.
“What do ye mean?”
But before Abigail could answer, the door to her rooms was flung open. Freya stood on the other side, her hand rubbing her belly absentmindedly and a smile plastered on her face.
“There ye are!” she exclaimed happily, walking into the room oblivious to the tension between her two sisters. “I’ve been lookin’ for ye.”
Immediately, she plopped down onto the small, cozy couch between her two sisters. Her brown eyes landed on Marissa, filled with excitement.
“Esther has shown yer betrothed to his chambers,” she tittered. “And the cook is preparin’ the feast. It’ll be quite the send-off.”
“Aye,” Marissa murmured, although she was still a bit hesitant due to Abigail’s concern just a few moments ago. “It’ll be strange, nae livin’ here anymore.”
