A Laird to Hold by Angeline Fortin (best feel good books .txt) 📗

a split second, something akin to desolation crossed the man’s face before the fleeting expression was gone and the oily smile was back in place. “For what it’s worth, I’ll try to cushion the worst of all this for her. If I can. And her mother, too, though that will be more difficult. She’s a regular bitch.”

The overture surprised Laird after all he’d heard about the man from Scarlett. “Ye’d hae my thanks if ye could manage it.”

“If there’s anything else I can do to help, give me a call.” Tyrone withdrew a rectangle of stiff paper and held it out to him.

Laird took the calling card then shook the man’s extended hand. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m well able to protect my family wi’oot yer assistance.”

“I’ll bet you are. I would love to hear how you met her and managed to hide all of this someday.”

“I wouldnae count on it.”

Tyrone laughed, humor and approval in the sound. “I like you, James. You really might be just what she needs.”

“Aye, I am.”

“Keep her humble, will you?” Tyrone turned and took a few steps down the hall before turning back. “I kind of like knowing she’s met her match, you know? She’s put the fear of Scarlett Thomas into too many men over the years.”

Laird’s nod was brisk but inwardly he smiled at the man’s sentiment. Aye, his lass had answered every push with a shove when he’d first met her. Every meeting between them fought like foes on a battlefield. The habit had aggravated and intrigued. The years since had never been dull with his spirited lass at his side.

God help him, he wished he were as confident they had many more years to come, but ill feelings had beset him that he couldn’t dispel.

Something far more malevolent than his mother-in-law was coming for them. He could feel it with a dire foreboding.

Scarlett

“I don’t care whether the National Enquirer is posting pictures of me in articles of celebrities aging badly, or whether every damn person on this planet is analyzing every last bit of video of me from the past year trying to pinpoint the moment they should have noticed I was pregnant. I care nothing about them. Nothing.” Scarlett repeated the word with solid emphasis. “All I care about is making sure my daughter is healthy and taking her home.”

“Back to Memphis?” Olivia cried. “And that man, too, I suppose? I have no idea what you’re playing at, Scarlett, but you need to get over this nonsensical rebellion of yours and get back to work.”

“No, Mother. I told you already, I’m done with it. All of it,” Scarlett reminded her. “I will not change my mind, so please stop pestering me.”

“Of all the…!” Her mother huffed. “Ungrateful.”

“On the contrary, I’m incredibly grateful,” Scarlett corrected her. She was, for every nuance of life in the past five years. For Donell bringing Laird into her life most of all. “I have more to be grateful for than you can imagine, more than all the lauding in the world could ever possibly provide. What you are failing to comprehend, Mother, is that I am no longer the actress or celebrity you want me to be. All that matters now is my life as a wife—”

Her mother raised a brow. “To that beastly man? Where did you dig him up?”

Scarlett gritted her teeth. She’d let Laird leave her knowing there was nothing Olivia could do to harm her physically, but she’d forgotten how much she’d often suffered mentally under her mother’s capricious parentage. Mercurial at best, she’d ranged from wanting to be Scarlett’s best friend to the worst parts of Mommy Dearest over the years. Even talking to her was exhausting.

She hadn’t faced a battle like this since the Scottish war with the English at Flodden Field, unless Scarlett counted her occasional arguments with Laird. At least those were mitigated by the fact that they usually ended up being resolved with a surrender by one or the other in their bed.

“That man is the most loving, caring man I’ve ever known and the father of my children.” She grimaced at the can of worms she’d just unwittingly opened.

“Plural? My God! What else have you been hiding? I hardly know you anymore.” Olivia threw up her arms again and resumed her frantic pacing. “In just a few weeks, you’ve become a complete stranger.”

Try five years, Scarlett wanted to say. To explain how she’d aged, changed by more than just a few lines on her face. Grown from a girl to a woman. “I know you have a hard time understanding the concept, but nothing means more to me than my husband and my children.” She took a deep breath. In all the years she’d been gone, an inkling or two of regret had washed by for leaving what little family she had behind. From time to time, she even missed her parents. “My family is everything to me.”

“Am I not your family any longer?”

Olivia tried to sound hurt, but Scarlett could hear the fallaciousness in her tone. Obviously over the years she’d forgotten what her mother was like. Where was the parental love? The concern? The joy of having a grandchild?

“I love them. More than anything. I won’t expose them to the life I lived.” She took a steadying breath. How to explain real love to a woman as cold as ice? Not once in her four, going on five, marriages had Olivia ever been in love. Never displayed any outward affection for her own daughter.

Scarlett hadn’t known what she was missing until Laird. She’d never had the chance to experience it, much less recognize it when it was right in her face. Until it had almost been too late to do anything about it.