A Faerie Fated Forever Read Free Page A

Miraculously, the attire Granny had worn since her days in the American colonies helped to hide the long list of physical flaws Heather hadn't realized she was afflicted with until Granny MacIver pointed them out. She bit back the vicious insult she wanted to hurl at her empty headed mother. Only her Granny had loved her enough to tell her the truth and to accept her despite her flaws. Mother just criticized and crafted impossible dreams. Why did her mother show her stars she could never reach? She tried to tune her mother out, but her voice took on that high pitched whine that made Heather long to stuff her fingers in her ears.
    “Baby, don’t you want to marry? Someday you will want children. You're marvelous with the little ones. I've told you time and again that it is always the wrapping that attracts men. They're like fish—forever chasing the pretty lure.” Heather crossed her arms and looked away.
    She looked back fast enough when Bonnie craftily suggested, “Why, take Laird Maclee. A man like him will never bother to check out the contents if he isn’t interested in the wrapping.”
    “You’re wrong about Nial. He’s not shallow! He’s different!” Heather retorted, loudly. Anything resembling an insult to the great Maclee roused the girl as nothing else could.
    By now, Bonnie shouted too. “I’m not calling him shallow. I’m just calling him male.”
    In much better spirits, Carrick bounded between the two women, puffing his cheeks in and out. Then he raised both brows, lowered his head, and aimed for Bonnie, who ran around the room, laughing.
    Finally, he caught her, and as he bobbed up for her earring, she squealed, “What on earth are you doing?”
    “I’m a fish, love, and I’m chasing the pretty lure.” His ridiculous imitation had them all laughing. For the moment, issues of wandering off at night to tend sick tenants and even Heather’s attire were forgotten. He called for wine and when it arrived, he cleared his throat and raised his glass, “The invitation Nial promised has come. We have been invited to Kilcuillin for a house party to celebrate his birthday. It will be a good time for the young ones to get to know each other. I know my lass, and the Maclee is too smart a fellow to let such a lady get by him. He shall not know what hit him. To Heather and Nial, Gle Mhath (very good)!!”
    Heather grinned and raised her glass to join in the toast. She had loved Nial for years and his protective embrace at the fair only increased her devotion. She believed Nial was as beautiful inside as he was outside and cited his generosity with his clan as proof. Everyone knew that his kindness to widows was prolonged – he provided meat for their table, wood for the winter and played substitute father for the children. (Heather didn’t know that the generosity to the women yielded other benefits for Nial with widows who weren’t virgins and were available).
    The family toasted and Bonnie raised her glass. “Nial couldn’t find a finer lass in all of Scotland.” She took a drink and then another, before she added, "It's unfortunate that sometimes the pretty cake isn't the best tasting. But Laird Maclee has so many dishes to choose from that I fear 'twould take an exceptional dish indeed to make him forego such a feast."
    Heather considered the statement and gave a long sigh, as she glanced out the window. She knew all too well that the loveliest lasses in the land dangled after the laird. She'd seen them pawing him on the dance floor. She'd seen it so often that she'd memorized the gesture he used to swat away their hands that had even earned its own nickname - the Maclee swipe.
    Bonnie put a tender hand to her daughter's cheek and tried one more time. “Heather, why don’t we delay the trip for a bit and do some shopping first. Love, your exotic looks, properly showcased, along with your passion - and I know Nial won’t miss that - might get you that prize you’ve sighed over your life long.