“Me betrothed couldnae wait to show off,” Marissa chimed in, offering Arthur a wink.
Her reward was a roll of his eyes before he turned his attention to Freya and Michael.
“I wouldnae have me wife’s family sleepin’ in rooms that werenae fit for them,” he assured them, exuding nothing but confidence.
“Well, we appreciate it all the same,” Michael said. Even he couldn’t hide the awe that had taken over his features.
Arthur only bowed his head at that, accepting Michael’s praise.
Marissa watched eagerly, a rush of pleasure flooding her at how well everyone seemed to be getting along.
It wasn’t long before Arthur, Joseph, Cody, and Michael had fallen into conversation. Soon, Arthur proposed that the men retire to the game room for drinks while the women got ready for the cèilidh.
“Good man,” Michael said exuberantly, clapping Cody on the shoulder. “We could use a good dram after a day of travel.”
“And to get away from the chatter,” Cody added pointedly, shooting Abigail and Marissa a wink.
“Ye love the chatter!” Freya argued, swatting his arm playfully.
The men said their goodbyes before exiting the chambers, the sound of their chatter echoing off the walls until it finally faded entirely. Leaving Marissa alone in the room with her sisters, but with nothing more than her betrothed on her mind.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
“Are ye excited about the cèilidh?” Freya asked, grabbing Marissa’s arm and leading her toward the vanity in the corner of the room.
“Aye,” Marissa admitted with a nod. “And nervous if I’m bein’ honest. I dinnae ken what to think of meetin’ the council.”
She turned to look at her sisters before continuing.
“But ye have been travelin’ all day,” she said hastily, trying to get up from her seat before the mirror. “Ye should get some rest before we start gettin’ ready. Ye dinnae need to be fussin’ over me.”
Freya’s strong hands fell on her shoulders, pushing her gently but firmly back into her seat as the other women in the room waved off her words.
“We’ll hear none of that,” Abigail declared.
Marissa’s eyes darted to the mirror, taking in the scene behind her.
The rooms that Freya and Michael had been given were similar to Arthur’s and her own. There was a large, lushly furnished room that was intended to be a receiving and changing room, connecting three other doors.
One, she knew, led to a private bathing chamber. The second led to a small study where the lairds that had come to visit Castle Reid could conduct their business. And the third led to a large, opulent bedroom, second in extravagance only to Arthur’s.
Abigail and Cody both had private rooms, the doors to which were directly across the hall from Freya and Michael’s chambers.
Abigail had collapsed into one of the large reading chairs in the center of the room, her legs thrown over the armrest in a rather unladylike fashion. Her eyes locked onto Marissa’s in the mirror.
“Ye’re the one who has to impress a council this evenin’,” Ayla chimed in, coming up to stand beside Freya.
Her body blocked Marissa’s view of the rest of the room, so Marissa’s gaze flicked to her reflection. Ayla was watching her with a smile as she and Freya started working on her short curls.
“Weallneed to impress the council,” Marissa reminded them. “Do ye think they’ll allow me to marry Arthur if they dinnaeapprove of me family? They seem like they’re ready to cause a tizzy over even the smallest of things.”
Ayla snorted a laugh. “Do ye think Arthur would allow the council to stop him?” Her voice was dark, laced with a challenge.
As Marissa studied her reflection, she realized that she’d never seen Ayla behave like her brother since arriving at Castle Reid.
“They could certainly try,” she argued, but her voice sounded unsteady and unsure even to her own ears. “And they already seem to be such a thorn in his side.”
Ayla waved a hand, dismissing Marissa’s worries. “They’re all a bunch of old curmudgeons,” she assured. “They’ll do nothin’ but yap his ear off. But at the end of the day, it’s Arthur who is the Laird. He’s a damned good one, too. And they ken it. They’ll do nothin’ more than give him a headache.”
