A Faerie Fated Forever Read Free Page B

Accept my guidance and take a chance!”
    “Leave the lass, alone. She has other assets that Maclee already appreciates,” Carrick said. "Don't forget the fair, love."
    “You think the man will give up his faerie fated love and tie himself to our daughter while she looks like that?” Bonnie's voice sharpened as she continued. “A wallflower will not gain the eye, much less the vow, of Nial Maclee! For goodness sakes, he's fought the schemes of beauties trying to trap him beneath the parson’s noose for years. They say he is the spitting image of Ian whose masculine glory lured a faerie.”
    Carrick walked to Heather and removed the bonnet she had retrieved, ignoring her attempts to snatch it back. “Stand,” he ordered in the daddy tone she couldn’t ignore. She stood, and he reached up and removed her hairpins and unwound the tight little bun atop her head. Then he ruffled her hair until it flowed about her wildly. He glanced around the room and finally seized the fabric tying back the curtains. He looped it around his daughter's waist.
    “Have you taken leave of your senses?” Heather snapped. Being looked at was her worst nightmare. Now her beloved father arranged her like a freak at a carnival. Yes, Da saw beauty when he looked at her but he looked through eyes that loved her. Someday, Nial would too but he'd never see her like this or he'd likely run away screaming. How dare her father do this to her?
    Carrick didn’t scold her for her temper. He wanted that flash of passion in her eyes. He stepped back, “Look, Bonnie! Just take a look at our lass. There is not another lady on the Isle of Skye, nay not in all of Scotland and England combined who can compare with her. The Maclee is renowned for his appreciation of the fairer sex. He’ll not miss this.”
    Carrick strode around her, pointing out her virtues. "The lass looks glorious, even in the feed sack she's wearing right now. Her hair shows that God gifted her with every shade of brown in his rainbow. All rumpled like this it looks like she's been up to things a father doesn't want to consider. Her golden eyes snap with temper but it's a hot emotion and for comparison it'll do. And her shape, well, let's just say that Maclee is bound to remember with his head what he felt with his hands at the fair."
    Carrick stepped back and winked at Heather who tried not to cry as the reminder of the fair spurred the dratted thought she refused to entertain. Whatever Nial had seen and felt at the fair, it hadn't been enough. Would it ever be enough? Could she ever be enough? Carrick raised his glass and Bonnie echoed his motion.
    “To what do we toast?” Bonnie asked lightly.
    “To our Heather, the Maclee’s faerie fated forever!” Carrick roared the toast and clinked his glass with his wife’s.
    As they toasted without her, Heather ran upstairs, unable to fight her tears anymore. She closed the door and frantically began to wind her hair into a tight little bun. When it was as small as she could make it, she squished it under the large bonnet she kept hidden beneath her bed in the event of an emergency like one of Mother's sneak attacks. Once, her mother burned every bonnet Heather owned. She'd had to hide in her room for a week, sewing replacements. With her disguise firmly in place, she ripped the stupid fabric from her waist and threw herself on the bed.
    Her parents were idiots to believe that she could be anything but what she was - plain and more than a little strange. Her brown hair mixed tones of every hue in that color's spectrum, from nearly blonde to almost red. Odd. Her hair was odd. Her best friend, Anice MacBain, had beautiful golden yellow hair – the color of daisies bathing in sunshine. Anice’s older sister, Elspeth, had hair the color of flames in the fireplace. Heather’s hair couldn't decide what color to be and tried to be a whole bunch of them at once. And eyes? Anice’s were baby blue and Elspeth’s were emerald green. Heather? Like