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

of brotherhood born of truly knowing one another without barriers. A truth Hugh knew he’d never be able to share with another in this time. Trust. And to some extent, familial loyalty.

He would miss them all when they left.

But their group was down one, Hugh noticed. “Where’s Rhys tonight?”

“He’s meeting Jack down at the bar and they’re going out to a nightclub. To dance.” Scarlett managed to keep a straight face, but most everyone else laughed aloud.

“They’re going to something called a gay bar,” Laird added. “I dinnae e’en ken there was such a place.”

“Can’t really see a man Rhys’s size performing a graceful Cat Daddy, can you?” Scarlett moved her body, undulating in a manner that had Laird looking at once appalled yet captivated. “Not really in his wheelhouse, is it? Maybe Jack will teach him a thing or two.”

Hermione jumped up and tried to imitate her mother’s moves so adorably they were all bent over in gales of laughter.

“They’re really hitting it off, aren’t they?” Claire asked, moving to sit beside Hugh.

“Aye.” Laird nodded and drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair. “But Rhys would be best to remain unattached. We’ll be going home soon.”

“Soon?”

Then Laird did smile fully. “Aye, they’ll be releasing our bairn from the hospital in a few days more. Then we can all finally leave this hellish place.”

Hugh noticed Connor’s smile slip a notch and wondered at his lack of enthusiasm. Perhaps Connor’s upset mirrored his own, for in a sense he did not want these happy moments to end. However, Connor’s humor was restored so quickly Hugh thought he must have imagined it.

“To yer good fortune.” Connor lifted his glass high and toasted them.

“Aye, my friend.” Laird waved a hand. “Let us all drink to my bonny bairn’s sound health.”

Another round of drinks were poured. Achenmeade Whisky for the men—Laird had been thrilled to see the whisky brand he’d launched centuries ago on the shelves. Wine for Emmy, and a teeny tiny dram for Scarlett since she was breastfeeding. Claire lifted her glass of club soda and another toast was given, then another. Until they were all talking over one another. Laughing and relaxed.

Even Laird, who was the most serious of them all, smiled contently as he drank his whisky.

Aye, Hugh had found friendship here.

“Have you decided what you’re going to name her yet?” Emmy moved to sit in Connor’s lap and looped an arm behind his neck as she snuggled against him. “You can’t keep calling her the baby or bairn.”

“In my defense, I wasn’t planning on even giving birth until next week at the earliest. We’ve had a few ideas but haven’t settled on anything yet.” Scarlett sat on the floor near Hermione.

“Why don’t you get Hugh to tell you what the baby’s name is?” Claire suggested.

Scarlett seemed puzzled. “What do you mean?”

Claire cast him a knowing grin and patted his knee. “He claimed he knew his family lineage back the two hundred years from his birth to Laird’s, didn’t he? I would guess he knows what her name is. Or will be.”

Scarlett turned to him, intrigue alive in her eyes. Hugh thought it might be the first time she’d ever looked at him with such directness. She still hadn’t warmed to him fully. He who had been known for his ability to charm anyone. A gift, he’d told Claire, which had served him well in life. Yet, for all his efforts, he hadn’t been able to win Scarlett over. Despite spending mornings at the hospital while Claire worked, giving a fair amount of effort in winning over Hermione and holding the new bairn, she still seemed wary.

Of him, but not the others.

He couldn’t help but question why.

“Do you?” Scarlett asked. Laird, too, looked fascinated by the possibility that the bairn’s name was a foregone conclusion.

Since he did know, perhaps it was. However, his curiosity was roused by the idea of seeing whether they’d come up with it on their own. He told them just that.

Scarlett’s lips twitched. “Perhaps the only reason we name her whatever we name her is because you told us to. Have you considered that?”

“I hae no’,” he admitted, enjoying the casual interaction with her. There’d been little of it between them since he’d arrived. “Nevertheless, I’d hate to influence ye unduly.”

Then she laughed. With him. Because of him, and his heart warmed. Mayhap he’d win her over yet.

“Oh my God, the pressure! I hope we don’t disappoint you.” She took a wee sip of her wine with a sigh. “Oh, that’s yummy. The things we do for our children.”

Claire nodded. “No caffeine and no alcohol is a true sacrifice. Soon it’ll be your turn, Emmy. And you can feel the pain.”

“I already sympathize,” Emmy assured them. “At least you behave, so many of the mothers-to-be at home refuse to believe in the dangers of consuming alcohol during their pregnancies. I plan on setting a fine example for them all.”

“Is that so?” Connor probed, more seriously than the comment required.

“Of course, I do.” She grinned at him and caressed his chest. “After all the practice we’re getting in here with nothing else to do, it may happen sooner rather than later. After all, I met our grandson, remember? It will happen. Oh, I didn’t even think of it. We should look him up while we’re here. Then you can get a chance to meet him too before we go home.”

“Assuming Donell ever comes around so you can,” Hugh pointed out. “We’ve seen so sign of him in weeks.”

Scarlett sighed, twirling her now empty glass between her fingers. She set it aside and picked up one of Hermione’s books, inviting her daughter into her lap. “I wish he had shown up. If for no other reason than to send Connor