“Well, Mother is going, and your mother will be joining ye as well, Rhona,” countered Mairead.
Rhona pouted prettily. “That’s not the same as a sister.”
Mairead simply arched an eyebrow at her. Rhona had to know how weak that argument was; at least a score of other Chisholm clanswomen were going.
Mairead loved her family, but now they smothered her. She slowly edged away from them saying, “Really. I'm sure it will be fun, but I want to stay here.”
Gannon tried. “Laird Matheson is going, so Flan will be there, too. Ye were just saying how much ye miss him.”
“Nay, Gannon. I can’t go.” She edged past him and rushed from the hall.
Peadar said, “Well that went well,” just before she left.
By the time she reached her chamber, her emotions were a jumble, and once again, she had to fight back the tears. This was awful. Clearly, her family didn’t understand why this scared her so much. They couldn’t possibly understand it. She had never given them the opportunity to understand because she had never been able to tell them why. Perhaps she should have, but she hadn’t found the courage to tell them before and she wasn’t about to tell them tonight. She had to take hold of herself and find the strength to face this.
She sat by the hearth in her chamber with her head in her hands when a knock sounded at the door. Completely exasperated with her siblings, she yelled through the door, “Go away.”
Her brother Quinn ignored her and entered her bedchamber. “I can’t, Mairead. We need to talk about this.”
“Quinn, I know ye all mean well, but please leave me alone. I don’t want to go to the fair.”
“I know ye don’t want to go.” He leaned his back against the door, but his casual stance belied the serious expression on his face. “I want to know why.”
“I just don’t. Why can’t ye all accept that?”
He ignored her question. “Mairead, I’ve never talked with ye about it and maybe I should have, but I know something happened the last time ye went.”
She waved her hands in irritation. “Everyone knows something happened, Quinn. To quote Peadar, I was colossally stupid and wandered off with Flan.”
“Yes, everyone knows that. What I want to know is what happened when ye wandered off?”
“Ye know that already too. I lost Flan, then I found him, and that priest walked us back to camp.”
“Mairead, ye’re lying to me. I knew it then, and I know it now.”
Mairead couldn’t meet his gaze. “Go away, Quinn.”
“Ye changed seven years ago. Tell me what happened.” The urgent note in his voice was unmistakable as he crossed the room and crouched in front of her.
“I don’t know what ye are talking about. I didn’t change.” She slammed her fists against the arm of her chair in frustration.
“Ye did. I’m sure there are cloistered nuns who are more outgoing than ye are, Mairead.”
“And ye know a lot of cloistered nuns?”
“That’s not the point.”
“Nay, but it’s all nonsense anyway. I have always been…timid. MacKenzie’s Mouse, remember? I just like being at home.”
She hated the nickname “MacKenzie’s Mouse” and no one within the family used it. However, many people outside the family and clan did, although it was her appearance and not her temperament that initially gave rise to the name. Da’s children by his first wife were tall and blonde with crystal blue eyes. Although her mother was petite, all Mama’s children from her first marriage were also tall—frankly, Peadar and Rowan were huge—and they all had Mother’s dark hair and dark brown eyes. Remarkably attractive, all eight of her older siblings turned heads. Even at four and ten, Flan was a head taller than most lads his age and already showed signs of having the dark good looks of Mama’s family but with Da’s bright blue eyes. More like her mother, Mairead was smaller than her siblings, with light brown hair and pale grey eyes. She felt mousey in comparison. However, Quinn was right. She would never admit it to him, but something had changed seven years ago.
Quinn looked directly into her eyes. “Mairead, I know ye better than anyone. I know something bad happened to ye then, and ye have been hiding ever since. Da is getting ready to marry ye off, and I am worried for ye. For the love of God, lass, tell me what happened. No one can help ye if ye keep this locked away.”
“Go away, Quinn,” she whispered.
He sighed and shook his head in frustration. He rose and kissed the top of her head. “Ye can talk to me, Mairead. Ye can tell me when ye’re ready.” Then he turned and left her room.