Edward scrutinized his older daughter, attempting to discern a lie, but Cairstine forced her face into the visage of serenity and innocence she’d perfected while at court. If her father insisted on pursuing a match, she prayed the potential suitor was familiar with the reputation she’d carefully developed at court. She’d regretted each hateful thing she’d said about Maude Sutherland and how she’d followed Madeline MacLeod’s lead. But the snarkiness fueled other people’s belief that she was selfish and unsuitable for any man to take back to his clan if he wished for a wife his people would find acceptable.
“We already give our tithes to the Church; I’m not interested in giving away your dowry, too.” Edward’s response stunned Cairstine. Never did she imagine her father would refuse the Church anything. He’d been prepared to promise his life to serving God, and yet, he refused to consider his daughter’s request to follow in his footsteps. Cairstine suspected he was unconvinced by her plea, but the speed with which he rejected her request still surprised her. Her father’s glare wouldn’t cow her.
“Father, I listened as a child when you spoke. There is no greater purpose than to pledge one’s self to their faith and to live it daily in servitude to His honor.” Cairstine repeated the words her father had used in his attempt to indoctrinate Fenella and her.
“And to pledge such without it truly being in your heart is a heresy, so cease now while you’re ahead.” Edward hissed before turning to his right, shifting his attention to Fingal, who offered her an apologetic smile. She’d been summarily dismissed, but her father’s voice drifted to her. “Perhaps I should have you marry the chit.”
Cairstine’s eyes widened as she shook her head with such vehemence that her neck hurt. Her knuckles were white as she grasped the armrests of her chair. Fenella slipped her hand over Cairstine’s. Fingal wisely remained quiet, and Edward moved on to another topic. She remained silent for the rest of the meal but cheered up when the music began. It was the eve of the Sabbath, and her father did not allow dancing on that day, but she enjoyed the harp and flute as her feet tapped beneath the table.
“Your father is right,” her mother whispered. “You would hate a life without music and gaiety. You love to dance and sing, and I don’t imagine chanting prayers all day is what you would enjoy. Why are you so insistent?”
“Because I don’t believe every woman is cut out to be a wife and mother. You and Fenny might be, but I’m not. It holds no interest for me. I don’t want the risk of a husband who ignores me, strays from our bed, or even worse, beats me.”
“Do you really believe your father would choose a mon capable of beating his daughter? He would never allow it.”
“Mama, you know I become that mon’s property the moment they sign the betrothal documents. Father will have no say in how any husband treats me. And I don’t have faith that my wellbeing is Father’s utmost concern.”
“And what is?” Davina asked.
“Whatever alliance he can create.”
“Do you believe the alliance would last if a mon mistreated you? Don’t you trust your father a wee more than that?”
“He may have never mistreated you, but you know that’s not the case with many men,” Cairstine offered a pointed look, but she would never say aloud the truth that Davina’s first husband often beat her to within an inch of her life.
“O ye of little faith. And you claim to want a life of dedication to God, but you have no faith that the Holy Father or your own mortal father will see you protected.”
“I don’t doubt that is what he would want, but it may not be in his control. He can’t control everyone, and certainly not all men. Some seek to harm women, no matter whose daughter a woman might be.” Cairstine forced away the bitterness she heard creeping into her voice. “Mama, please. I’m begging you. Please reason with Father and ask him not to make any rash decisions. I know Fenny is eager to secure her betrothal to Kennon, and I don’t want to stand in the way of that, but I won’t consent to marry anyone. At least try to sway him toward my taking the veil.”
Davina inhaled deeply before nodding her head. The women let the topic die as they both turned to listen to a couple singing.
Chapter Four
Cairstine gazed at the pasture as her horse, Twinkle, galloped away from Fingal’s stallion,Fuamhaire,or Giant. Cairstine had agreed to allowFuamhaire and Twinkle to mate. She’d felt sorry for the horse she’d had since she was a child. She’d named the horse for the mischievousness she’d been certain shone in the amber-colored steed’s eyes. She hadn’t been mistaken. She couldn’t keep from chuckling as Twinkle once more allowed Fuamhaire to nuzzle her before dashing away.
She’s a worse flirt that I am. At least, in the end, she’ll accept that she doesn’t have a choice but to welcome the stallion’s intentions. She may be a broodmare, but I’ll never be.
“It’s not as though she’ll suffer for it. Or at least not until she’s birthing her foal,” Fingal snickered as he came to stand beside Cairstine at the fence. Cairstine understood what Fingal referred to. She’d been at court long enough to have learned an impressive amount about what went on between men and women. She’d experienced lust on more than one occasion, but she’d always restrained herself before it went further than she could control. She understood coupling could be enjoyable for both partners, but she had no intention of gaining any firsthand knowledge. It made her stomach sour to think about it.
“She’s a horse. She’s a mare. She’s meant to be bred, but that doesn’t mean every female is the same way.” Cairstine didn’t take her eyes off the horses as they continued their chase and retreat.
“Cair, I don’t understand how you’re so certain any marriage you enter is certain to be a disaster.” Fingal shook his head but kept his eyes on the horses too. Cairstine knew Fingal held an interest in marrying her, but it was more to solidify his future as laird to Clan Grant. They were fond of one another, but she saw him more like a brother than a potential bedmate. She didn’t doubt he would be kind to her, but she also didn’t doubt he’d be unfaithful while insisting she remain in his bed until he sired a passel of children on her. She feared her father would betroth her to Fingal before the end of the sennight, if not before the end of the day.
“Having bairns doesn’t interest me.” It was the boldest lie Cairstine had ever told, but she said it often. She would be thrilled if she could have children without having to marry and bed anyone. She wondered sometimes if she could suffer the indignity of intercourse if it meant she would have a family, but the visceral need to run whenever she thought of coupling told her motherhood didn’t suit her.
“I don’t believe that. I think a patient husband could make you see otherwise,” Final persisted, but he opted to drop the topic when he caught sight of Cairstine’s withering glare.
“If we aren’t certain before I depart that Twinkle will foal, I’ll have to return in a few months. I don’t want her traversing the mountain path once she’s too far along.”
“You’re assuming you’ll be returning to court,” Fingal’s hushed tones made Cairstine’s stomach cramp. She feared her father had already decided, and now she waited for the axe to drop.
“I must. I am still in the queen’s service. Until she dismisses me, I’m expected to return no matter what plans Father has. At the very least, I have my belongings to pack.” She knew she finished with a weak argument. A maid would pack her trunk, and her father would arrange for its return to Freuchie. Fingal’s frown told her she didn’t fool him.
“Cair!” Cairstine turned toward her approaching sister as Fenella waved her over. With a last smile for Fingal, Cairstine joined her sister. “Father wants to see you in his solar.”
“He isn’t wasting any time,” Cairstine complained. “I haven’t been home a day, and he’s ready to hand down my sentence.”
“Cair, you make it sound like the end of the world. He’ll have chosen wisely for your sake and the clan’s.”
