Fiona's eyes widened."Months?"
"Aye.Connor ended things with her well before yer betrothal was even announced.The woman is here tonight purely to cause trouble."Morna leaned closer, her voice dropping to a whisper."Look at him, Fiona.Really look at him."
Fiona turned her attention back to Connor, studying his face more carefully.She could see the tension in his shoulders, the way he kept glancing between her and Teàrlag, the frustrated set of his jaw as Ewan murmured something in his ear.
Suddenly, understanding dawned.
Connor needed her permission.As his wife, she could give him the freedom to deal with Teàrlag directly without it appearing that he was choosing his former lover over his bride.But he couldn't ask for that permission without seeming to prioritize the other woman's presence over Fiona's feelings.
"He's trapped," she breathed.
"Aye," Morna said with satisfaction."If he goes to her, ye'll think he's abandoning ye on yer wedding night.If he ignores her, she'll continue spreading poison until she's turned half the keep against yer marriage.But if his wife were to handle the situation..."
Fiona felt a spark of something she hadn't expected.Determination.Her father wanted her to be passive, to accept whatever scraps of respect her husband might offer.But Morna was suggesting something entirely different.She was suggesting that Fiona take an active role in her marriage, that she fight for what she wanted instead of simply enduring what she was given.
Rising from her chair with purpose, Fiona smoothed down her stained wedding gown and lifted her chin.If Connor needed her then she would go to him.And in doing so, she would show everyone in the hall—including Teàrlag—that she was not a woman to be trifled with.
She made her way across the floor with purposeful strides, ignoring the curious glances that followed her progress.When she reached Connor's side, she slipped her hand through his arm with easy familiarity, as if she'd done so a thousand times before.
"Husband," she said clearly, her voice carrying to the nearby guests."I believe there's a matter that requires yer attention."She glanced meaningfully toward Teàrlag, then back to Connor."Perhaps ye should handle it now, while I speak to Laird Ewan about some matters."
Connor's eyes widened slightly as he understood what she was offering him.Relief flooded his features, followed quickly by something that looked very much like admiration.
"Are ye certain?"he asked quietly, his hand covering hers on his arm.
"Quite certain," Fiona replied firmly."A husband shouldn't have to deal with unwelcome guests while his wife stands idly by."
The message was clear to everyone within earshot: Fiona was not intimidated by Teàrlag's presence, and she trusted her husband to deal with the situation appropriately.She was giving him permission to handle his past while simultaneously establishing herself as his partner and ally.
Connor brought her hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles."Thank ye," he murmured, his eyes holding hers for a long moment.
"Go," Fiona said with a small smile."I'll be here when ye return."
As Connor strode across the hall toward Teàrlag, Fiona turned to Ewan with composure she didn't entirely feel.But she'd made her choice.Instead of cowering in the face of her first challenge as Connor's wife, she'd chosen to meet it head-on.
***
