Alasdair tilted his head, frowning. “Speak with me? About what?”
Conall laughed, the sound a deep rumble in his chest. “Daenae worry. It is only a formality.”
“Formality?” Alasdair asked, his eyes narrowed.
Conall was intimidating, that much he could say. He saw a lot of himself in him, and that fact alone made him even more attentive to whatever the man had to say.
Conall cleared his throat before continuing. “Ye see, when ye marry one of the Blackwood sisters, ye join a rather exclusive group of men. I am sure ye ken what I mean.”
Alasdair let out a laugh of his own, short but genuine. “Oh, do I nae. Lily is quite the handful if ever there was one.”
“So is Brigid,” Conall said without hesitation.
His smile softened, and a reminiscent silence stretched between them for a beat.
Alasdair eventually broke it with a quiet admission. “I wouldnae trade her for anything else, though. I cannae imagine any day without her in me life.”
Conall nodded once. “Good. That makes our next conversation easier.”
Alasdair sat and leaned back in his chair, a hint of suspicion crossing his face. “And what conversation is that?”
“The first matter is obvious,” Conall said. “Lily never mentioned she had a husband. How she managed to keep ye hidden all these years is still a mystery.”
Alasdair let out a low laugh. “Well, I didnae exactly make it easy for her either. Something… came up after our wedding, and I had to leave.”
Conall’s eyes narrowed, his tone sharp. “Ye make it sound as though ye stumbled on a business venture at the far end of the earth.”
“Far from it,” Alasdair said firmly. “I cared for Lily. Always. What pulled me away was a matter of life and death, and I couldnae shirk me duty. I also couldnae take her with me. She would never have been safe with me if I had done so.”
“I understand.” Conall nodded.
“Perhaps if it happened now, I could have handled it a bit more maturely than I did ten years ago,” Alasdair added.
Conall studied him for a long moment. “And have ye told her any of this?”
Alasdair shook his head. “Nae yet. I am only beginning to warm up to the idea. But I intend to do that after the cèilidh.”
“Then ye had best get on with it,” Conall said. “The sooner, the better. It might even ease some of her resentment.”
Alasdair nodded slowly. “Believe me, I am working on that too.”
Conall leaned back, his expression unreadable. “Still, ye came back for her because of the alliance, did ye nae?”
Alasdair rose, crossed to the sideboard, and poured whisky into two cups. He handed one to Conall before responding. “Her healing skills were needed here. And she has proven herself beyond any doubt. More than twenty men have gone home whole thanks to her. I truly cannae imagine what state the clan would be in if she hadnae come here.” He also couldn’t imagine what statehewould be in if she hadn’t come, but he kept that last part to himself.
Conall swirled the cup in his hand, nodding. “I heard as much on our way here. I also heard that she raised a dead man from the grave, after he’d already been buried for days. Of course, I assume there is nay substance to those words?”
Alasdair exhaled hard through his nose. “Aye, those rumors keep twisting into something more dire with every telling.”
“That is what I thought,” Conall muttered. “The Blackwood sisters may be many things, but they are most certainly nae witches.”
Alasdair allowed a wry smile. “Nae witches. Though I’d say they bewitched us well enough in their own way.”
Conall gave a short laugh. “That they did.”
Another moment of silence passed between them, and Alasdair took the opportunity to take a sip from his cup.
Conall cleared his throat. “Still, ye must find a way to quell those rumors. If left unchecked, they can become dangerous.”
