“I was going to say, ma lady, that the Mackintosh heir has his eye on a MacPherson. She’s bonny as the day is long, they say, and her da wants the lairdship of Clan Chattan. Too much politics for ma liking. They’re welcome to one another.”
“Anyone else?” Cairstine leaned forward, her hands clasped so tightly that the skin tugged.
Bram shifted uncomfortably before nodding. “Duff MacDuff apparently has come up more than once.”
“Dear God, no. The mon is old enough to be my grandfather. He’s a Lowlander. And the MacDuffs are traitors. They have betrayed us all as Scots and betrayed King Robert. The mon’s niece crowned our king, but her brother married the English bastard’s niece. He sides with Longshanks!”
“From what I know, Duff did what he could to keep Laird Duncan from switching their allegiance to King Edward, but I canna deny his age nor where they reside.”
Cairstine and Bram exchanged a look of disgust as they considered living in the Lowlands. The Grants were a powerful Highland clan, and while Cairstine had learned to disguise her brogue at court like all the other Highland ladies, her heart beat for the wide meadows and mountain peaks that were the backdrop to her childhood. Marriage was awful enough, but the prospect of a life in the Lowlands felt like impending exile.
“Is there anyone else?”
“Brodie Campbell’s name came up,” Bram answered softly.
“Brodie?” Cairstine’s breath caught. There’d been talk of them becoming betrothed even while they were still children, before she grew to despise marriage, but the Campbells insisted their alliance with the Grants was already strong. They wanted their son’s marriage to secure another alliance. Brodie had always been kind to Cairstine and was one of few people she’d given hint of the secret she intended to take to the grave. He was possibly the only man she had considered marrying, but the relationship was more like brother and sister than lovers.
“Aye, but I dinna think it was serious. More a reminder of the past.” Bram explained with a gentleness to his voice that made Cairstine wish the bear of a man could still swoop her up in his embrace as he had countless times when she was a child.
“It’s just as well. You know I don’t want to marry anyone,” Cairstine sighed. Bram was one of the three privy to the secret Cairstine hid. Not even her sister was aware, and she refused to consider sharing that part of her past.
“Ye might be surprised one of these days, lass.” Bram patted her shoulder before walking to his saddle and bedroll. Cairstine’s eyes drifted closed just before the first rays of light rose over the horizon. Her eyes felt like she’d rubbed them with nettles when she awoke. They itched, making her miserable as they began their fourth day in the saddle.
* * *
Cairstine breathed a sigh of relief as she rode under the portcullis of Freuchie Castle. She was home. She dashed to embrace Fenella as her mother, Davina, moved down the keep’s steps with more restraint and grace than her younger daughter. Once she pushed Fenella’s mane of red hair from her face, she caught sight of her father and Fingal Grant. Fingal was a distant cousin, the grandson of Laird Edward’s uncle and his closest living male relative. He was Edward’s heir and tánaiste.
“He wants to marry me,” Fenella whispered.
“Who?” Cairstine had been home only a few months earlier and knew nothing of her sister having a suitor.
“Kennon Campbell!” Fenella named Brodie’s cousin, a man Cairstine sensed had the makings of a suitable husband for her sister. She leaned back and grinned.
“He’s a braw mon, for certain. How do you ken?” Cairstine smiled.
“He came to ask Father for my hand. You know we met at last year’s Highland Gathering, but he’s been visiting as often as he can. He came a fortnight ago to request a betrothal.”
“That’s wonderful, Fenny,” Cairstine fell back on her childhood nickname for her sister.
“It is, but Cair, Father has refused. Or rather refused for now.” Fenella bit her bottom lip as Davina brought their conversation to a halt when she joined them.
“Mama,” Cairstine relaxed in her mother’s embrace, the softness of her frame a comfort just as it had been when she was a child.
“My sweet lass, I’m so happy to have you home once more. It’s not the same without you, and the time seems to grow longer between our visits.”
“It’ll grow longer once the lass weds. She won’t be able to come and go as she does now,” Edward announced by way of greeting his daughter. Cairstine shot Fenella a glance and understood why her sister had grown hesitant. In an instant, she understood what no one had voiced. Yet. Fenella wouldn’t gain their father’s permission to marry Kennon until Cairstine married. As the younger sister, they would force Fenella to wait. Cairstine gazed at her sister and her heart seized, unable to imagine denying Fenella the happiness she sought through marriage. Cairstine wouldn’t begrudge her sister what she wanted, even if they didn’t share a similar view on the sacrament.
Cairstine opted to remain quiet until they entered the Great Hall, where people sat for the evening meal. Her stomach rumbled, hungry after only bannocks and thin rabbits for dinner each night and more bannocks while in the saddle. As they took their seats–Cairstine in her usual chair beside her mother and two chairs to the left of her father–she wondered if she could choke any food down if her father decided it was the right time for a discussion about a betrothal. Cairstine sighed as she accepted that it wouldn’t be a discussion, but more of a one-sided diatribe on why she couldn’t remain unwed much longer.
“Cairstine, I am making inquiries into a match for you. The sooner your marriage is secured and consummated, the sooner your sister can wed a mon who wants her.” Edward made no attempt to soften the blow, and the insinuation that Cairstine would be an unwanted bride didn’t go unnoticed by anyone at the table. She’d made her wish to remain unmarried clear on more than one occasion.
“Father,” Cairstine spoke softly. “I’ve had time to contemplate this over the past months and especially during the journey here. We are a family of strong faith. You have blessed us by teaching us to love Christ before all else. I feel called to take the holy veil.”
Cairstine waited for God to smite her in her seat. She felt no calling to such a vocation, but she would accept a solitary life in silence if it meant she never had to submit to a husband.
“Rubbish,” Edward barked.
“Father, we know our family was meant to serve God, but others’ choices kept that from happening.” Cairstine toed a dangerous line, alluding to how her father had always intended to become a priest, never wanting the lairdship nor a wife and family. While he was a respected and strong laird, he barely recognized he had a family. She, her sister, and her mother were more like distant acquaintances Edward than his wife and children. “I would fulfill that legacy.”
