Too Scot to Hold (The Hots for Scots #8) - Caroline Lee Page 0,9
way down to the great hall for the intimate evening meal. Kiergan had stopped in to greet Davina an hour ago but hadn’t mentioned Graham. In fact, no one had mentioned Graham to her, and she couldn’t help but wonder if they were avoiding the subject.
But he’d be at the meal—‘twas impossible to believe otherwise. Which meant she’d see him then. She’d see him, and possibly have to speak to him, even after knowing he’d professed his love to her, then changed his mind.
“Davina, lass!” Laird Oliphant roared as he caught sight of her, and it was impossible not to hug the older man. His embrace was bone-crushing, but it always made her feel loved, which was silly, considering he wasn’t related to her. But he hugged her in a way Grandda never did, and she couldn’t help adoring the acceptance.
“Ye’re sitting by me!” the laird boomed, hauling her up beside him. Then, in a quieter voice, he spoke from the corner of his mouth, “Mainly because that auld fool ye came with cannae seem to keep his hands off of Aunt Agatha, which is, frankly, disgusting. I need a distraction.”
His mutter sounded so irritated, Davina had to fight to keep from giggling. For certes, Grandda was seated at the other end of the long table on the dais, flirting openly with the laird’s aunt.
“He’s been pining for her, but he’ll never admit it,” she murmured in response.
Laird Oliphant harrumphed. “He’d best no’ be expecting her to live in sin. She’s never married, and I ken Father Ambrose would be happy to marry the two of them when he returns from Inverness.”
Davina almost choked. Grandda marry? For certes, he’d been married years ago, to Mother’s mother. But marry Agatha Oliphant?
Well, why no’? He’s clearly interested in her and has spoken of her all winter, and apparently, has now picked up right where they’d left off.
When Laird Oliphant strode toward the table, he kept his arm around Davina’s shoulders, and she had to hurry to keep up. Since he was being so informal, she thought naught of poking him in his side. “Kat tells me congratulations are in order. Ye married Moira at Hogmanay?”
“Aye!” the large man boomed cheerfully, as he tugged her up onto the dais with him. “The lass finally—finally—said aye to my begging and put me out of my misery.”
Moira, the Oliphant’s long-time housekeeper, leaned over from where she was directing servants and kissed the laird on the cheek. He loosened his hold on Davina just long enough to sweep Moira into an embrace, which had the plump woman giggling.
As Davina smiled with pleasure at seeing the two of them so happy, Lara—Moira’s daughter and Kat’s sister-in-law—swooped in for a gleeful hug from Vina herself. After that, Davina felt as if she were being passed from one Oliphant wife to the next, greeting each as if she were a long-time friend. Only Skye and Merewyn—who lived in the village with their husbands—were absent.
It was so good to see them all. In the time she’d visited Oliphant Castle last summer, these women had become her sisters, and their husbands were her family as well. In the time before the meal began, Davina was also passed from one Oliphant brother to another, laughing and hugging joyfully. Finn teased her as much as Kiergan did, Alistair welcomed her solemnly but with a warm hug, and Malcolm handed her his younger son Tomas—a sturdy young lad now—for a kiss.
And for a while, Davina forgot about Graham.
“Sit down!” Laird Oliphant bellowed. “Moira’s got a treat for us!”
“ ’Tis Cook’s doing,” Moira corrected with a laugh. “Stewed oysters!”
Beside Davina, Kiergan groaned. “I hate Lent. When can we slaughter a pig?”
His wife nudged him. “No’ ‘til after Easter Sunday. Dinnae fash, ‘tis only a sennight away! But I have noticed Hero Pig is losing another ear. Do ye think the butcher is eating him a piece at a time?”
Chuckling, Kiergan launched into an improbable story about a revered pig who’d saved a family from a burning building, as he led the sisters to their seats.
“Nay, nay, Kier, take yer wife to the other end of the table.” His father suddenly appeared and nudged Kiergan and Katlyn toward Grandda. “I’m sure she wants to sit with her grandfather and catch up on news”—he lowered his voice to a growl—“and keep him from kissing my aunt too much.”
As the couple moved toward the other end of the table, Davina realized the laird wasn’t done. “Malcolm, ye switch