“I suspect you’re once again thinking I’m despicable.” When Cairstine’s lips drew in, Eoin’s laugh echoed off the trees just as his bellow had. “I’m right, aren’t I?”
“That’s neither here nor there. I thank you for your gallant attempt at a rescue. Now I shall bid you good day.” Cairstine’s attempt to dismiss Eoin only taunted him into riding closer. He kept his horse walking until he forced her guards’ horses to sidestep lest his mount headbutt one. Bram narrowed his eyes as he watched the arrogant man, but nodded when the guards turned to him for guidance.
“Ride with me,” Eoin leaned close to Cairstine’s ear to whisper. A shiver ran along her spine as she turned her head to look into his eyes. It put her face close enough for them to kiss, and he tempted her despite the audience. She’d enjoyed the kisses she’d shared with Eoin. He was skilled at seduction and could lead any woman to sin. She nodded before she realized what she’d done.
Cairstine yelped before demanding, “Put me down.” She’d misunderstood Eoin. She’d assumed he meant to ride alongside him, so she was unprepared for him to pluck her from the saddle and place her before him on his. He cast a warning glare at Bram before tossing the guard Twinkle’s reins.
“I’d take us out of these trees, lass. It’s not safe. Too many highwaymen lurk nearby, and the trees give them cover if they should sneak up on us.” Eoin explained.
Cairstine turned a questioning glance to Bram, who nodded his agreement. She sighed, and Eoin pressed his heels against his horse’s flanks. The guards whirled around and followed as they rode back to where Eoin spotted Cairstine. He dismounted first, then lifted her off the steed as though she were little more than a feather. When he set her on the ground, her hands flew to his chest to steady her. She could feel the heat radiating from him. She snatched them away as though he’d scorched her. Perhaps he had.
Eoin guided Cairstine back to the ridge where they stood silently, appreciating the grandeur of Scotland’s landscape. They each peeked at the other, but when they caught each other’s eye a third time, Eoin spoke.
“Did you enjoy your time with your family? You weren’t gone long. You must have spent, what, a day there before turning back.”
“Aye. It was a day. The visit was fine.” Cairstine’s answer was succinct since she didn’t trust herself not to let her feelings show through her words.
“You’re not very convincing. Did your father announce that dreaded betrothal?”
“No,” Cairstine shook her head. “But he’s given me a moon to find a groom, or he will choose one for me. Most likely it’ll be my distant cousin, Fingal, who is my father’s heir.”
“Do you know him well?”
“Aye, he’s more like a brother than a l—” Cairstine snapped her mouth shut. She was not about to discuss bedding any man with Eoin, no matter that they’d flirted and kissed.
“Than a lover?” Eoin supplied. “Marrying a friend isn’t a poor way to begin. At least, you know you suit.”
“Suit? Hardly. He’ll be unfaithful to me before the priest has finished the blessing. He just wants me so he can secure the lairdship once my father dies. He’s the closest male relative, and if he marries the laird’s older daughter, no one can contest his inheritance.”
“You truly believe that aboot him? You assume the worst of your friend?”
“It’s not the worst. I could assume he’ll beat me, but I know he never would. He’s not that type of mon. But he’d force me to—well, to do things I’m not inclined to.”
Eoin listened to Cairstine but read between the lines. The woman was a passionate kisser and had allowed his hands to slide down to her backside, but the two times he’d attempted to touch her breasts, she’d grabbed his hand. He knew she had limits, and he suspected they ended well before the actual act of coupling. He wondered, not for the first time, if something had happened to her to turn her against further intimacy. He’d never intended to bed her; he drew his own limits with virgins. But he’d expected she would have allowed a little more before stopping him.
“What will you do? Do you have anyone else in mind?”
Cairstine shook her head but answered, “God. I shall be a bride of Christ.”
“A nun?” Eoin chuckled. “I doubt you’d convince anyone of that calling, least of all your father.”
“I intend to beg the queen to allow me to retire to an abbey.” Cairstine crossed her arms and turned her head away.
“That’s rather extreme. You’ve already bought yourself a moon. Don’t you think you could convince your father to delay a little longer?”
“No. I can’t. Not for his sake, but for my sister,” Cairstine huffed. “She’s fallen in love with a Campbell and wants to marry him. She can’t until I’m married, since I’m the older sister. Entering a convent will serve the same purpose as far as she’s concerned.”
“As far as she’s concerned? Don’t you mean as far as you’re concerned?” Eoin cocked an eyebrow, pressing Cairstine to be more forthcoming.
“If I secure my future, then one is as good as the other, as far as anyone else is concerned. I see becoming a nun as a far better option.”
“And you believe the queen will support you? You think she’ll agree to you retiring to an abbey and will tell your father as much.”
“Think, hope. They’re aboot the same right now. I’ll pray on it.”
“Need all the practice you can get?” Eoin smirked.
“What does any of this matter to you?” Cairstine rounded on Eoin and stepped toe-to-toe. “Why can’t you let this go?”
“Because something seems so off. My mother wished her entire life to be a nun, even after she married and had two sons. She was far better suited to life in an abbey than she was as chatelaine, so I know what a woman with a calling looks like. You are nothing alike. You are not meant to be a nun.”
“Your mother wanted to be a nun?” Cairstine tried to wrap her mind around the notion that a pious woman raised the devil-may-care man who stood before her.
“She did. She never wanted to marry, but her sister got with child by a mon who refused to marry her. Not only did my aunt bear a child out of wedlock, everyone considered her too soiled to be a laird’s wife. The duty fell to my mother, so she married my father. For all her faults, she was a pious woman, true in her faith and devotion. Believe it or not, she raised Ewan and me to have a deep faith. Neither my brother nor I have been virtuous models of Christ-like behavior, but I don’t think our vices outweigh what we value. It also means I can tell you aren’t suited to a life of isolation. Do you really want to live a life with no music, no laughter, no affection, no passion? That would have been an ideal life for my mother, but I think you will feel trapped in purgatory within the first sennight.”
“Why do you think you know me so well?”
“Mayhap I don’t know you at all. But you didn’t deny what I said.” Eoin cupped Cairstine’s elbows as he looked down at her upturned face. “I don’t want you to make a mistake that you can’t undo. Once a convent has your dowry, they won’t let you leave. Your father doesn’t sound willing to relinquish it to the Church.”
“What makes you think that?”
“He doesn’t have a betrothal arranged. He’s given you a chance to find your own husband, but he doesn’t want you to become a nun. I don’t think he wants to waste your dowry. I think he wants to buy an alliance instead. If he’s as devout as you say, then he’s already confident that he’s on his way to Heaven. He doesn’t fear refusing your request.”
Cairstine sighed. Eoin’s assessment of her situation was far too accurate, and it made her uncomfortable. She shifted restlessly before her shoulders slumped. She shook her head before tilting it back to gaze at the puffy clouds that slid across the sky. She wished Eoin would cease questioning her, but she feared she would face the same scrutiny when she requested an audience with the queen.
“My father wished to be a monk, but his three older brothers died in battle. The lairds
hip passed to him, and he had no choice but to leave the monastery where he’d already become a monk but was yet to take his final vows. His brothers’ deaths forced him to leave just two moons before his ordination. He has struggled to accept God’s will when it was contrary to his own desires, contrary to what he’d always believed God intended. I think he’s fought feeling guilty because he has never accepted that he didn’t get what he wanted. He’s done his duty and is a mon I’m proud to call father and laird, but he isn’t a mon who is loveable or loving. He’d prefer to spend his day in prayer, but his responsibilities force him away from the kirk. He, like your mother, ensured he had children, but once he fulfilled that obligation, he ceased paying my mother any attention. Did your mother ignore you when you were a child?”
“Not when I was a wean. She wasn’t affectionate with me or Ewan, but she taught us more than just Scripture. She ensured Ewan and I can read, write, and speak English, Gaelic, French, and Latin. She taught us a tremendous amount aboot nature and an appreciation for all God’s creatures. She wasn’t cruel; she just wasn’t warm.”
“It sounds as though our parents are more alike than not,” Cairstine mused. She hadn’t realized she was gazing into Eoin’s blue eyes until they crinkled at the corners as he smiled.
“Cairstine,” Eoin dropped the honorific, and neither seemed to notice the informality. It felt normal to both of them. He continued softly, “What will you do when the queen denies you?”
“She can’t.” Cairstine blinked rapidly, forcing away the tears of frustration and fear that burned the back of her eyelids. “She’s not an unsympathetic woman. She understands what forced marriages can bring. I don’t worry that my lot in life is as severe as hers was, no one will hold me under house arrest for eight years. But I pray she will understand why I don’t wish to marry.”
“And why is that?” Eoin pressed.
“I don’t want to talk aboot that. That’s no one’s business but my own. Don’t ask again, Eoin. I won’t forgive you for prying.”
Eoin had little choice but to relent. There seemed to be little to say after that mandate, so he escorted Cairstine back to the horses. They rode back to the castle in silence, and they bid one another good day before going their separate ways.
Chapter Six
Cairstine held her breath as she entered the queen’s solar the next morning. She’d had another fitful night of sleep, but this time her dreams were a replay of her conversation with Eoin as they stood looking out over the bluebells. She was certain that despite it being a dream, she could feel his hands on her waist as he lifted her onto his saddle and then when he set her on the ground. In the dream her elbows tingled from Eoin’s hands on them as they talked. His words rejecting her plan to plea for help from the queen echoed over and over just as they did now. Cairstine waited for Elizabeth de Burgh to settle into her carved chair, the seat from which she presided over her ladies-in-waiting and the matrons who often joined them. Queen Elizabeth’s imperious mien tempted Cairstine to abandon her plan entirely, but she reminded herself that nothing ventured was nothing gained. She exhaled and clasped her hands before her as she approached, lowering her chin in deference.
“Lady Cairstine, is there something we can do for you?” The queen swept an assessing glance over Cairstine, and Cairstine swallowed her nerves as she drew closer.
“Your Grace, I hope for but a moment of your time. I have a quandary and wish for your guidance.”
“A quandary? That makes it sound serious. Approach.”
Cairstine followed the queen’s order after dipping into a low curtsy. She took a place on a cushion on the floor beside Queen Elizabeth’s seat. It was an awkward angle, but it reminded anyone who sat there that they were well below the queen in social standing. It forced deference through its discomfort.
“I have spent a great many hours in quiet contemplation aboot the path God would have me follow.” Cairstine kept her gaze lowered and began her request by aiming directly at the topic the queen held most dear. A fervently religious woman who spent many hours of each day in prayer, Cairstine intended to use that to her advantage, but she chose her words carefully so she could gain her desired outcome without boldly lying. “I believe God is calling me toward a life of less frivolity and more introspection.”
That wasn’t a lie. Cairstine didn’t doubt that marriage would cause less whiling away of her days and more thought about her own misery. She would avoid the falsehood that God called her to be a nun. She knew God had done no such thing. She wasn’t sure that God even thought about her or her future, but she had no desire to test that and end up smote in front of the queen.
“Are you dissatisfied with your life at court?” Queen Elizabeth quirked an eyebrow.
“No, Your Grace. But I understand I cannot remain here forever. I’ve been of an age to marry for quite some time, and I believe being a bride of Christ is the highest calling.”
“You want to be a nun?” Queen Elizabeth didn’t hide the disbelief and amusement from her voice. “I don’t think you’re suited to the veil, Lady Cairstine. Not suited at all.”
“That’s what I believed too, Your Grace, when the thought first entered my head. But it is persistent, and I pray for the chance to follow this path.”
“If you are bringing this to my attention, I assume your father is not in agreement. I assume Laird Grant has other plans for his daughter.”
“My father would prefer me to marry, but he has given me time to consider.” This wasn’t entirely a lie either. She had time to consider a husband, but she didn’t feel the need to add that. “He was on a path to serving God before he unexpectedly inherited the lairdship. My family has a history of wanting to serve the church. I could fulfill that.”
“Lady Cairstine, you spin a pretty tale,” the queen began, “but not once have you actually said that you feel a calling from God. I think you wish to avoid marrying someone you don’t want.”
Cairstine couldn’t prevent the heat that crept up her neck and into her cheeks. They felt on fire, and she was certain the temperature in the chamber rose by several degrees as sweat broke out along her hairline. She was about to confess something she hadn’t spoken aloud. Ever.
“Your Grace, might I tell you something in utmost confidence?”
“Of course, my child.” The queen’s amused gaze shifted to one of genuine concern as she noticed Cairstine appeared on the verge of tears, her distress very real.
“May I whisper it to you?” Cairstine heard the begging in her own voice, and the queen must have as well, because she nodded. Cairstine kneeled and leaned toward the queen to whisper, “I have never told another soul this. It’s too shameful to speak aloud. Something happened to me many years ago. It wasn’t my choice, and it was beyond my control. It made me an unsuitable bride to any mon. I can never tell my father that.”
“Does your mother know?” Queen Elizabeth murmured. It stunned her to learn someone had assaulted Cairstine. She never suspected such a secret lurked within the lively lady-in-waiting.
“No,” Cairstine shook her head, relieved to hear no censure in the queen’s voice. “No one in my family does. Only Alexander and Magnus Sinclair and my guard, Bram, know. They helped me.”
Queen Elizabeth sat back, and Cairstine returned to sitting on the cushion. The queen’s eyes softened as she took in the anxiety that radiated from Cairstine’s rigid posture. She’d feared for her life countless times as a young bride to a man who would be king but spent years on the run. She recognized the same fear she’d experienced when her future was uncertain and she had to place her trust in others when she wasn’t sure she should.
“Which convent would you retire to?”
“I’m uncertain, Your Grace. I would ask your guidance on that,” Cairstine admitted.
“Inchcailleoch Priory is the closest nunnery to Stirling Castle, but I don’t think the ‘Island of Auld Women’ would suit you. Theirs is a life of extreme austerity.”
“Aye. Kie
ran MacLeod sent his sister there. I remember what happened with Madeline, and I don’t want a fate like hers.”
“But you two were close friends. You would have someone there that you know.”
Cairstine grimaced. “I was her friend out of necessity. I have done my best to make myself appear to be an unsuitable bride. A harpy whose vanity is well known doesn’t have men beating down her door to marry her.”
Queen Elizabeth nodded as Cairstine revealed a truth the queen had long suspected. “Then the other convents are far from here and even farther from Freuchie.”
“One way or another, Freuchie is no longer my home. The distance won’t matter. My family is unlikely to visit me no matter what clan I might marry into, so going to a convent is no different. As for the distance from Stirling, Your Grace, my life at court would end. I would have no need to visit here.”
“Murkle Priory is the only one dedicated to nuns in the Highlands, and that is in Sinclair territory.”
“Aye. You can’t get much further north before you fall into the sea.” Cairstine preferred staying in the Highlands, but her clan name would carry no weight no matter where she went. There was no benefit to staying in the region other than her love of the wild, untamed nature of both the landscape and the people. It called to her restlessness, and it soothed her soul to walk among the hills and lochs when she was home. But she wouldn’t be socializing nor given the chance to wander, so once more, location held little importance if she was dedicating her life to servitude and prayer. “The only other places more remote are Rona Island and Eilean Sear. There is little more on those Hebridean islands than seals and birds.”
“An ideal place for a life in prayer.” Queen Elizabeth scrutinized Cairstine as though squinting would allow her to see inside Cairstine’s soul. “Though that isn’t as high a priority as escaping marriage.”
A Rake at the Highland Court: The Highland Ladies Book Four Page 4
