Page 5 of Highlander’s Lesser Evil

At this rate, there must be no honeysuckle left on this side of the mountain.

The first time, she’d gathered it up and made headdresses for the girls. The second time, she dried them and fashioned them into ribbons for sashes for their dresses. The third, she’d gathered in bouquets and distributed them back to the homes of the people who had placed them in her cottage in the first place.

Enough was enough. Cramming them into her basket, she planned on marching across the fields and throwing them into the loch.

Maybe they will be better suited for the water fae these God-fearing folks still believe in!

Sometimes it was strange being an English woman living alone among the highlanders.

Opening the door, she gasped and nearly charged into the group that had gathered outside her door. They looked at her expectantly.

“If you’re wondering, a husband didn’t magically appear with the honeysuckle,” she greeted them dryly.

“Please doonae be angry, lass, but ye must wed! ‘Tis been a month! The laird is sure to remember ye now!” Agnes clutched her chest in horror.

Her husband, Harris, nodded. “Aye. If ye are wed, he cannae wed ye. Are ye certain that ye wilnae consider our Ollie? He’s a good lad.”

They were peculiar neighbors. Agnes acted in many capacities at the loch, from healer to wise woman of those that followed the old religion, although she and the priest seemed to get along well. Harris seemed to know a great many details about the other clans, although she wasn’t sure how. He was the one who had informed her that the MacSeaver mistress had been executed for her treachery and that Fletcher would not want a wife.

Their daughter, Elizabeth, was one of her best friends. A little younger than Gemma in age, she was years younger in maturity, having been protected by her parents and the rest of the loch. A lovely lass of dark hair and blue eyes, she filled Gemma with a longing for her sisters even though they had never been close.

“Yes, he is a good lad, but I will only marry for love, so I will not be marrying Fletcher even if he marches in here and demands it. Besides, he isn’t your laird anymore. Laird MacDougal is.”

“Ye could marry him! We hear that he is nothing like his father,” Elizabeth said, swooning just a little. “And he is so handsome.”

“Then you should marry him, Elizabeth.” Although Gemma had managed to stay hidden whenever the new laird of Loch Moran came to visit, she’d heard tales of Theo MacDougal’s handsome face and strong body. The neighbors of Loch Moran desperately wanted him to wed one of their own, to ensure that he cared as much about the people as he did the rich resources that came from the loch and the soil. She feared that when they ran out of daughters to throw his way, they would drag her out of her home and toss her at him next.

“My mother says I am still too young to wed. So ye will have to wed Theo to please him,” Elizabeth said as she flipped her hair. Of course, it wasn’t true, but it was obvious her parents were unwilling to part with her yet. Gemma, on the other hand, was an older woman living scandalously alone.

The others nodded eagerly, and Gemma sighed. While it felt like her friends were sacrificing her, she knew they feared marriage to Fletcher would be far worse, and they were probably not wrong.

An idea formed in her head. “If I promise to meet with the MacDougal laird when he returns, will you stop scavenging the forests for honeysuckle and stuffing them in my cottage?”

Once again, they all bobbed their heads like the ducks on the loch waves that she enjoyed drawing.

“Then you have my word that next time he is here, I will greet him and introduce myself.”

If she were lucky, the laird would show his face in a few months, and she might finally have some reprieve.

“Excellent. I overheard his men talking, and he is to arrive at the end of the week!” Harris shouted, and the crowd cheered.

Rats!

Well, a promise was a promise, and if she stuck to the truth, there was little doubt in her mind that the laird wouldn’t be interested in her. They liked young maidens, not ruined women.

“Now that that’s out of the way, I’m sure we all have things that we need to do. Agnes, I have a new blanket ready for your babe and your mother. I also have the new tapestries ready to go on the next shipment. Give me a hand?”

The women gathered the honeysuckle from her, and Gemma and the men toted the tapestries to the crates. In trade, they fetched new boots after the winter had worn most of their boots to a nub. She’d already started on the summer shipment to purchase items to prep for winter.

Gemma wished she could work faster, but it wasn’t like she’d been weaving for years. She was lucky that she was talented, but she wasn’t fast by any means.

“Ye do beautiful work, lass,” Harris said softly and shook his head. “I doonae know why ye stay here.”

“Because this is my home, and you are my family.” Impulsively, she leaned over and hugged him. “There is no other place that I would rather be.”

“At least MacDougal’s land isnae far. Ye will be able to visit often if he is a good man.” Harris nodded. “I believe him to be a good man.”

She wanted to tell him that he had nothing to worry about. She had absolutely no intention of marrying and leaving Loch Moran—not for the MacDougal laird, not for anyone.