Highland Courage(93)

“Did ye want to learn weaving too? Ye need only have asked,” said Mairead.

“Nay. I didn’t want to learn weaving. I didn’t want to learn cooking. I just wanted to be noticed.”

“And ye thought destroying Lady Matheson’s instruments would get ye noticed?” Tadhg asked, unable to keep the anger from his voice. Mairead laid her hand gently on his arm.

“I don’t know what I was thinking, Laird. I’m sorry. Truly I am.”

He took a deep breath before saying, “That is behind us now. But what on earth possessed ye to do what ye did here?”

She was quiet for a moment before saying, “For the first time ever, someone seemed to notice me. Darcy said I was pretty and he wanted to dance with me and kiss me. He was so handsome and a laird’s son. He seemed interested in me. I thought he was wonderful. I liked him and I thought he liked me so I let him—I mean, we—well, we—”

“They know what ye did with Darcy, Finola.” Her father looked ashamed.

“Aye, well, after that I thought he loved me. I believed him when he told me ye knew him, my lady. I thought ye loved him and he said he only wanted to talk to ye. I guess part of me thought maybe now I had taken the man ye loved away from ye. I also thought that if ye did love him and the laird found out, he would be angry with ye.”

“Oh, Finola,” Mairead said, dismayed.

“I’m sorry, my lady.”

“I understand ye are sorry, Finola, but do ye understand the danger ye put Lady Matheson in?”

“I do now, Laird.”

“Do ye also understand that while I can forgive ye, I cannot risk having ye in a place where your poor judgment could do that kind of damage to my loved ones ever again? Ye cannot live and work in the keep at Cnocreidh.”

“Aye, Laird. Da told me.”

“Your father and I have decided the best thing is for ye to be married. Ye will have a husband and family to occupy your time.”

She nodded but still didn’t look up.

“I was thinking perhaps Angus’ son, Seoras, would be a good husband for ye.”

“Really?” For the first time that evening, she looked up. “Do ye mean it? Seoras has always been nice to me. His children are lovely.”

“I haven’t spoken to him yet obviously, but yes, I will make the suggestion. If he is willing and ye believe ye can be a good wife and mother to his children, then ye can marry.”

She looked down again, dejected. “He won’t want me. Not after what I have done.”

“Don’t borrow trouble, Finola. Let’s wait and see. I believe he will be pleased to have ye as a wife.”





Twenty Eight





Just over a week after Rowan MacKenzie’s wedding to Eara Fraser was to have occurred, he married Sine Fraser instead. To his delight, he learned Fraser’s “little dove” was forged from steel. No one, not even his mother, could bend her when her mind was set. A quiet evening wedding ceremony, followed by a small meal, was all she would allow.

“Both my brother and sister have disgraced my family. It is not the time for a celebration. I just want to be married and put all of the ugliness behind us.”

So he stood at the door of the chapel and watched the lovely girl he was to marry pick her way across the wet courtyard on her father’s arm as a light drizzle fell. Her reddish gold hair frizzed in the mist, her nose and cheeks reddened in the chill air, and her damp dress clung provocatively to her curves. She was beautiful and he was happier than he thought possible.

After the wedding dinner, he slipped away quietly with his new bride and carried her across the threshold of the small cottage in Duncurra’s village that Laird MacIan had given them.

~ * ~

After Rowan left the great hall with his bride, Tadhg, too, slipped away with Mairead. The Mathesons would be returning to Cnocreidh the next morning and he said he wanted to be sure Mairead was well rested.

However, Mairead didn’t really have resting on her mind. He had treated her gingerly for days and it was going to stop. He closed the chamber door behind them and when he turned around, she launched herself at him. She couldn’t help but giggle when the soft ‘oomph’ escaped him as his back hit the door.

“What are ye doing?”

“I’m ravishing ye.”

“Are ye?”

“Aye. Do ye object?”

“Hmm. Ye’re sure ye have recovered?”

“Days ago.”

He chuckled. “Well, I guess I can’t object, then.”

She stood on her tiptoes, put her hands behind his neck, and pulled him into a kiss. Breaking it after a moment, she said, “Ye are too tall.”

“Well, love, if ye moved this ravishment to the bed, we could make sure all of the important parts lined up better.”