He scanned the page too, and looked up at Robina, his face more sad than angry. He came around the table and hugged her. “I know you were marrying Lockie out of duty,” he said gently, “but has he hurt you badly?”
Robina shook her head. “No, Father,” she answered. “He has embarrassed me. There will be gossip of course, but it will not last long. I am more worried about you, and especially Mother. I know this bothers her quite a bit.”
“I will handle your mother,” he said firmly. Donna was so engrossed in her fury that she did not even realize they were talking about her. “But we will have to find you another husband.”
Robina nodded slowly. “Of course,” she replied. It was what she had expected, so she was not surprised. She would soon be unsuitable to marry; after all, she was almost twenty!
Meanwhile, Donna was reading the letter over and over again, shouting excerpts of it as she found yet another piece to object to. “‘Regret and sorrow?’” she fumed. “Wait till I get my hands on him. I’ll give him plenty to regret and be sorry for—the swine! ‘Hope I have not hurt you!’ The swollen-headed tyke! Wait till I get my hands around his neck!” She marched over to the fireplace and viciously tore the parchment into tiny pieces and hurled the scraps into the flames. She turned to Robina. “We will go and see this coward. We will sue him, make him sorry he ever drew breath!”
Robina shook her head. “Do what you have to do. I really do not care. He loves someone else and he never loved me. It was an arrangement, nothing more.”
Donna shrugged. “Well, we have a wedding dress, so we can find another groom.”
Robina stared at her mother incredulously. “Mother, choosing a husband is not like taking off one dress and putting on another! I need time to adjust and get to know another man.”
Donna spoke as if she had not heard what Robina had said. Her eyes lit up. “I know who would be a very suitable match,” she mused.
She seems to have recovered from the shock very quickly,Robina thought bitterly.
Donna looked at her husband, who stared back at her inquiringly. “Alexander Lindsay! He is a brave soldier and has distinguished himself in many battles with the Auld Enemy. Robina could do much worse.”
“Am I to have no say in this?” Robina burst in hotly. “I have never met this man!”
“We will ask if he is willing first,” Donna went on, “although I do not think there should be a problem. What man would not want to marry our beautiful Robina?”
Robina saw red. “Excuse me, Mother, but I am here you know, and I think my opinion matters. I am not a commodity to be bartered!” Her cheeks were flaming with rage.
“It is your duty!” Donna cried. “I did my duty, my mother did hers, and so did every other woman, and indeed every man I know. What makes you think you are so special?”
“I cannot believe you can be so cold-blooded and uncaring!” Robina raged. “I am a person, not a thing!”
At that moment Bearnard stepped in. “Your mother is right, Robina,” he said, his tone quiet and reasonable. “You need a husband, but we will choose carefully. You and Lockie were betrothed at the age of ten, and you have both grown up now, so things have changed, and so have you. We cannot alter what that coward has done, but we can find a new and more worthy husband for you.”
“But Father, you seem to be in a great hurry!” She was desperate. “You say that you have found me a good man, but I must be allowed a little time to get to know him first.”
Her father nodded. “I know who your mother has in mind,” he said, smiling a little. “He is a young laird. It is said that his wife was unfaithful to him, then, as fate would have it, she died of whooping cough. He served valiantly in the border wars against the English, then his father died. He had to come back to claim his legacy; now the whole estate of Glengour is his, and there are far worse places to live, Robina.”
“I would live in a shepherd’s hut if I could be with the man I loved.” Robina sighed. “That is all I have ever wanted.”
“We cannot always get what we want,” her mother grumbled. “Your father and I did not want each other in the beginning, but we grew to love each other, and you will too.” Suddenly her voice softened. “It will not be so bad, my daughter. From what I have heard, he is a good man. And very handsome!”
“Mother, Father,” she said, sighing again, “I do not care if he is a hunchback as long as he is kind. I value kindness more than anything.”
“As do I,” her father replied, kissing her. He looked across at Donna. “We have much to do, my love. Let us begin.”
2
Alexander the Warrior
Bettie and Fergie, the two chambermaids who looked after the Laird’s bedroom, were deep in conversation that morning. They were discussing the exploits of Laird Alex Lindsay, who had attended a ceilidh the previous night and come home in the early hours of the morning much the worse for wear.
“I heard he drank that much whisky he wis like a ragin’ bull!” Fergie said incredulously. “They said he started a fight wi’ Donald MacDonald—whit a name! Onyway, he got intae this fight, an’ twa o’ the big servants had tae pu’ them apart or oor Laird Lindsay would hae killed him! Ye knaw whit size he is...I aye said he could put a plow on his ain! Thae shoulders!”
Bettie tutted and shook her head. “Aye, he’s never been the same since he came back fae a’ thae battles doon sooth! An’ yon’ wife o’ his! I tell ye Fergie, if onybody deserved tae die it wis her. Threw away a good man like oor Laird, an’ him sae big an’ handsome!”
“Aye!” Fergie laughed. “I widnae step ower him tae get tae my Calum!”
They both went away laughing, but they knew their Laird would not rise from bed for a while yet; not on the day after a ceilidh!
