Highland Courage(53)
“I do. Of course I do. I just don’t want—I don’t want—well, Rowan should spend Christmas with the family.”
Tadhg laughed. “What are ye talking about? Ye and Flan are family.”
“I just meant—I just thought he would rather spend Christmas with the whole family at Carraigile.”
Tadhg couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This was the last reaction he expected from her. She obviously missed her family terribly and yet she seemed set against Rowan’s visit. “Mairead, stop it, ye are being ridiculous. The whole family isn’t at Carraigile. Ye and Flan are here, and Rowan wants to spend Christmas here with ye.”
Flan overheard this last comment, and he asked excitedly, “Rowan is coming for Christmas?”
Tadhg looked at Mairead for a moment before answering, “Aye, Flan, he will arrive on Christmas Eve and plans to stay through Epiphany.”
Tadhg had no idea why Mairead had reacted as she did to the news of Rowan coming, but over the next couple of days things only got worse. She pushed herself incessantly, preparing the keep for Christmas. She seemed distracted and wore a haunted look he didn’t understand. Two nights later, when he couldn’t get his normally responsive wife to even return his kiss, Tadhg had finally had enough. “Mairead, what is the matter with ye? Ye have been out of sorts for weeks, but it has gotten worse since I told ye Rowan was coming.”
“Nothing is the matter with me. There is just a lot to do.”
“But everything is coming together beautifully. Why are ye so upset?”
“I’m not upset,” she snapped.
“Nay, of course not. What was I thinking? Clearly ye are your usual sweet self,” he snapped back. She turned away from him, trembling. By all that’s holy, how could I be such a callow eejit. “Mairead, sweetling, I’m sorry. I know something is bothering ye, and I wish ye would tell me what is.”
“I’m just tired. Really. I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to snap at ye.”
He pulled her into an embrace, just holding her close for a while. Something else was amiss, but clearly he could not push her into telling him what it was.
~ * ~
By early afternoon on Christmas Eve all preparations for the Christmas feast and those that followed between Christmas and Epiphany were complete. Cnocreidh had been cleaned from roof to cellar. Boughs of fir and holly decorated the great hall. Fresh rushes, strewn with bay and rosemary, covered the floors. Mairead slipped away to the chapel, seeking a few minutes of peace. As she knelt praying in the cold quiet church, voices sounded in the courtyard. Oren called, “Elspet, have ye seen Lady Matheson?”
“Nay, I was looking for her too. Father Mungo thought she might have gone to the chapel. I was just going there to check.”
“I’ll come with ye.”
Mairead sighed and girded herself for what was to come as Elspet and Oren entered the chapel.
“My lady,” Elspet said. “I don’t mean to interrupt ye, but we’ve received word your brother’s party approaches. I thought ye would want to make ready for him.”
“Thank ye, Elspet. I will be along in a minute.”
To her dismay, her voice quavered. Elspet asked, “Is something amiss, my lady?”
“Nay.”
Oren, never one to mince words, said, “My lady, ye haven’t been yourself for days. What has ye so upset?”
She bowed her head, feeling defeated. Why shouldn’t she tell them? It was obvious anyway. “I was hoping my family would never have to find out what a failure I am.”
Elspet stared at her in shocked silence, but flabbergasted, Oren said, “A what? Did ye say a failure? Why in the name of all that is holy would ye say something like that?”
“Because I am.”
“Merciful heavens, lass, how could ye think that? Have ye not looked around yourself?” Elspet asked, evidently having recovered from her initial shock. “Cnocreidh has never looked better, even when the laird’s mother was living.”
“Aye, it practically glistens and things have never run more smoothly. I am man enough to admit ye are much better at running a household than I was. Ye certainly haven’t failed.”
“That is just the surface, Oren. Anyone can do it with enough hard work.”
“Then what do ye think ye have failed at, my lady?” Elspet asked gently.
“I’m not whom the clan wanted me to be. I am MacKenzie’s Mouse, and I can’t change who I am.”
Her husband’s voice cut in, “What are ye talking about?”
She looked up to see him standing in the door of the chapel.
Elspet turned toward him to explain. “Laird, Lady Matheson seems to think she has failed us in some way.”