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Lachlan shouts to me, "Get over here, Rory! It's time for a brotherly blether."
Men don't gossip. I want to shout that to Lachlan, but instead, I trudge over there so I can tell him in person. When I glance back at Emery, my sister Catriona is engaged in conversation with her. Do I want to know what Cat is telling Emery? It might be women's rubbish about how to handle a man. Not sure that's what lasses blether about, but it seems as likely as anything.
Lachlan and Aidan pull me into a conversation about all the absurd things their wives have done, and they joke about what married life is like with an American woman. At first, I listen but don't contribute much to the conversation other than the occasional grunt. Gradually, though, I start to relax and insert my own sarcastic comments, and soon I'm laughing right along with them.
This is what I used to be like, when I was a strapping lad who hadn't married the wrong woman, three times. I used to date. And dance. And laugh. Though I'd never been as outgoing as Aidan, I had my moments. How did I end up here? Thrice divorced. Engaged in a marriage of convenience. Too closed off to tell my wife what I think of her or let her share my bed.
I glance toward Emery.
My wife has just thrown her arms around Catriona. My sister pats her on the back and walks away, heading toward Jamie and Fiona.
Aye, Emery loves everyone. My family loves her too.
I let my brothers pull me back into the jokes and laughter. I might be letting myself think, for a little while, that my wife might genuinely care for me. I shouldn't want that. I don't want it. But letting myself entertain the idea…
I get a strange sensation in my chest.
Every few minutes, I glance at Emery. Calli and Erica are talking to her now.
Lachlan slaps a hand on my shoulder. "Don't worry. Wives need to blether, and I'm sure they're discussing how Emery can tame the Ogre of Loch Fairbairn, but it's only talk."
Aidan chuckles. "No, I think Emery is serious about giving Rory a mental makeover."
"Mental makeover?" I say with a slight growl. "Donnae need that."
"Aye, ye do." Aidan leans in to whisper, "Let her shag ye until that caber falls out of your erse."
I see Calli and Erica walking away from Emery, so at least their blethering hasn't gone on for hours.
A few minutes later, my mother marches up to me, seizes my arm, and tows me back to my wife with my father hurrying to catch up to us. She waves a hand, encouraging me to stand beside Emery, just as my father reaches us.
Sorcha MacTaggart claims both of her daughter-in-law's hands, sandwiching them between her palms. "Rory told us you haven't seen your family in a long time. I hope ye donnae mind, but I asked for your parents' number, and Rory gave it to me. I had a good chat with your mother last night."
Emery is probably wondering how I got her parents' number. I can explain that later. Or not. Will she be angry when she finds out?
Emery smiles at my mother. "That's great. I imagine you and my mom commiserated over being left out of the loop on this marriage thing. I really have to apologize—"
"Hush, lass." Ma squeezes her hands. "I'm happy to see Rory awake to the world again. He's been hiding in his castle keep for too long, like the ghost of a medieval laird."
Emery's smile broadens. "That's a perfect description, Mrs. MacTaggart."
"Och." She waves a dismissive hand. "Call me Sorcha."
My mother gazes at my wife as if Emery is the answer to her prayers.
Ma frees my wife's hands. "Penny and I had a wonderful idea. Since you and Rory eloped, neither family had the chance to witness your marriage."
Penny? I suppose that must be Emery's mother, though I'd never asked what her first name was.
I secure an arm around my wife's waist. "Mother, what are you on about?"
She gives a decisive nod. "We're having a wedding for you. A proper, traditional ceremony."
I groan out a sigh. "If it'll make you happy, we can plan it for a few months out."
"No." Sorcha MacTaggart anchors her hands on her hips. "It'll be on Saturday in two weeks."
