Bridgette made herself nod. “I ken.”
Alanna smiled, and fine lines crinkled the skin around her warm brown eyes. “It’s verra clear how much Graham loves ye. It’s plain on his face.”
She stared at Bridgette so hard that Bridgette suddenly feared that her own face clearly showed that she did not feel the same. She interlaced her fingers to keep from fidgeting. When the bairn gave a cry, Alanna turned her attention to Moira. Bridgette exhaled with relief, but before the breath had even been fully expelled Alanna asked, “Has he asked ye to marry him yet?”
“Nay,” Bridgette replied, miserable that instead of being disappointed, she felt glad that her unchangeable future had not yet come to pass.
Alanna patted Bridgette on the hand. “Dunnae fash yerself. I’m sure, he’ll ask ye soon.”
Bridgette had not thought it possible to feel worse than she already did. She was lying to Alanna, yet she’d not uttered a false word. Still, her silence was as good as a lie. Yet it was for Graham’s sake, the man to whom she owed her life, so surely God would forgive her. “I’m nae concerned.” That, at least, was true. “Graham says,” she whispered, “he’ll ask me when he’s whole again. He wants to be recovered from his injuries.”
Alanna frowned. “The clot-heid should nae have declared such a thing. What if he does nae recover completely?”
Bridgette’s mind instantly turned with the implications of that.
Alanna heaved an irritated sigh. “Does he expect ye to wait on him forever, or does he intend to turn ye from him because he does nae consider himself worthy of ye? Bah,” she grumbled. “Men are fools.”
Bridgette’s breath caught in her throat. Turn her from him? Then she’d not have to wed him… Hope filled her and she nearly sobbed with the wretchedness of the emotion.
“What are ye two lasses discussing?” Graham asked over her shoulder, causing her to twitch with surprise.
Alanna scowled at him. “We’re talking about—”
“Bairns!” Bridgette blurted, then turned her head to give Alanna a narrow-eyed warning look.
Alanna pressed her lips together, but she nodded, indicating she had understood Bridgette’s hint. Alanna bounced Moira up and down. “Aye. I was saying how tired I am because Moira sleeps verra little.”
Bridgette nodded enthusiastically. “And I said that Rory Mac should take a turn with the bairn at night,” she added loudly enough for Rory Mac to hear. Bridgette happened to know the stubborn Scot thought Alanna should do all the work with Moira while he snored peacefully in his bed.
Rory Mac’s lips twisted in an amused smile. “Caring for bairns is a woman’s work, Bridgette MacLean. When ye’re married and have one of yer own, ye’ll ken it well enough.”
Bridgette frowned at him. “I’d never marry a man who possessed such a clot-heid notion. It takes a husband and wife to make a bairn; therefore, both the husband and wife should care for the bairn.”
“Then ye’ll nae be marrying Graham because he believes as I do that the husband provides for the wife and bairn, and the wife cares for the bairn and husband. Dunnae ye believe it to be so, Graham?” Rory Mac prodded.
Certain Graham would deny what Rory Mac had said, Bridgette looked at him. “Surely, ye dunnae believe that?”
He shifted in his chair a bit, avoiding her gaze. Rory Mac whistled and chuckled while Alanna glared at him. “Dunnae tell me, Graham MacLeod, that ye’re going to bow down to a lass’s wishes,” Rory Mac said.
“Ye bow to my wishes all the time, Rory Mac.” Alanna shifted the bairn yet again to free a hand so she could smack her husband on the shoulder.
“Woman,” Rory Mac grumbled, “I choose to pacify ye sometimes when it suitsme. Dunnae forget who is the head of the family. ’Tis me.”
Alanna snorted and shifted Moira once more as the bairn started to cry again. “Ye keep telling yerself that wee lie if it makes ye feel better.” Moira let out a piercing scream, and Alanna blew out a frustrated breath and then stood. “I’m going to put Moira down.”
She gave Rory Mac a pointed look. When he didn’t move, Alanna shook her head. “Dunnae come looking for comfort in my arms tonight, Rory Mac,” she muttered as she walked away from the table.
“Ye ken ye kinnae resist me,” he hollered at his wife’s departing back.
Alanna’s response was a loudbah.
Bridgette knew most men expected obedience from their wives and didn’t think of them as equal, but it still bothered her. Her own brother had never treated her as an equal, except when he allowed her to hunt, but that was only after Lachlan had helped her prove her worth.
“God’s truth,” she said, her voice quiet but strong, “I will nae ever obey a man like a mindless dog.” She stared hard at Graham as she spoke, willing him to look at her. She owed him her life and her allegiance, but that did not mean she was prepared to let him order her about and treat her as his personal serving wench for the rest of her days.
He shifted again but drew his gaze upward to hers. “I dunnae think Rory Mac expecting Alanna to care for their bairn is the same as him treating her like a mindless mutt,” Graham offered with a shrug.
Bridgette opened her mouth to argue, but Iain, who was seated at the head table on the dais at the front of the room, stood up and called for music and dancing. It didn’t take long for the chairs and tables to be moved to the side and couples to fill the middle of the room.
