“Silence!” he commanded the hall. “In spite of what ye might deserve, I will not have ye whipped. I had decided to dismiss both of ye and have ye removed from the keep, but on further consideration,” he paused, glancing at Mairead before continuing, “If ye wish to continue working at Cnocreidh, it will be in other positions. Kester, ye may work as a laborer in the stables if ye choose.”
There were shocked looks on many faces. “Laird, I am dreadfully sorry for the intrusion. I’ll work in the stables. Thank ye, for not dismissing me outright.”
Tadhg accepted his apology with a nod. “Kester, your work in the stables should not normally bring ye into the keep, but under no circumstances should ye enter the south tower unless I personally give ye leave to do so.”
“Aye, Laird, thank ye, Laird.” He bowed before leaving the hall.
“Meriel, if ye wish to continue working it will be as a scullery maid.”
“A scullery maid, Laird?” Both the expression on her face and her tone of voice conveyed her disgust at the idea.
At this, her father stood and pounded his fist on the table. “Meriel, how dare ye shame yourself and me in this manner? Laird Matheson has been more than lenient with ye, and he offered ye a fair choice.”
Meriel stood rigidly with her jaw clenched and did not respond. “Meriel, what is your decision?” Tadhg prodded.
She looked livid, and tears pooled in her eyes. It was obvious she believed the punishment was neither fair nor lenient. Finally, she said, “I choose the scullery.”
When she didn’t offer her apology, Tadhg prodded her gently. “Ye will also apologize, Meriel.”
She looked from him to Mairead, her eyes shooting daggers. “I’m sorry, Laird,” she ground out.
Tadhg’s jaw clenched as he stared at Meriel for a moment.
“Meriel!” her father thundered.
She scowled at her father, angry tears sliding down her cheeks.
Tadhg sighed; her behavior disappointed him. “Ye will continue to reside in the keep with your family, however, ye also are not permitted to enter the south tower unless I personally give ye leave to do so. Is that understood?”
“Aye, Laird.” She was clearly furious.
“Leave the hall now,” Tadhg ordered.
She looked as if she wanted to protest, but she clamped her mouth shut and left the hall for the west tower.
Tadhg motioned for supper service to begin.
David turned to him. “Laird, I am very sorry. My daughter’s behavior was unconscionable. I appreciate your lenience with her.”
“David, she is nearly a woman grown. I do not hold ye responsible for her actions.”
Elspet also approached the table. “Laird, I too must beg your pardon. I thought I told Meriel to make sure the bath was ready for ye after supper.”
“Elspet, ye have nothing for which to apologize. I am confident your instructions were perfectly clear and even if they weren’t, ye certainly did not prevent them from knocking on the door.”
Mairead had remained silent while Tadhg addressed the issue and she continued to be very quiet through supper. Undoubtedly the whole affair had been distressing to her. Within hours of her arrival, he had learned her reticence increased when she was embarrassed or became uncomfortable. Watching her now was beyond painful. As soon as the meal was over, he whisked her out of the hall, away from the eyes of the clan.
Nine
Mairead woke well before dawn. The events of the previous two days consumed her thoughts. She decided the problem yesterday might have been in assuming things would be as they were in her parents’ home. When they were not, she wasn’t prepared. She needed to learn how to cope with the differences and try again. She whispered St. Brendan’s prayer.
Help me to journey beyond the familiar and into the unknown.
Give me the faith to leave old ways and break fresh ground with You.
Christ of the mysteries, I trust You to be stronger than each storm within me.
I will trust in the darkness and know that my times, even now, are in Your hand.
Tune my spirit to the music of heaven, and somehow, make my obedience count for You.
Unable to return to sleep, she rose quietly and dressed. She did not want to go down to the great hall yet and decided to wait for Tadhg to rise. She went to the cabinet in her solar and took out her lute. Feeling she might be in more need of God’s help today than ever before, she decided perhaps Psalms were in order. She played and sang softly so as not to wake her husband. After losing herself in the music for a while, she looked up to find Tadhg standing in the doorway, listening. “I’m sorry, I didn’t intend to wake ye,” she said, putting her lute on the table.