Highland Courage

by Ceci Giltenan

  ~ * ~

  Tadhg wasn’t sure how to approach Finola’s transgressions after her ordeal. He let things pass for several days, but they could not be ignored forever. Thankfully, he didn’t have to raise the issue. After the evening meal, David approached him with a contrite Finola in tow.

  “Laird, may we speak with ye and Lady Matheson, please?”

  “Aye, ye may.”

  “Finola has some things to say to ye.” Her head was down and she seemed disinclined to speak, but her father nudged her, saying, “Go ahead, Finola.”

  “My lady, Laird, I am truly sorry for everything I have done.”

  “What have ye done, Finola?” Tadhg asked gently.

  “More things than ye know. I was the one who damaged your harp and left the recorder under the rushes, my lady. I’m sorry.”

  “Finola, why?” asked Mairead.

  “I was jealous of ye. I—well, I—it’s like Jock said that night, I was hoping the laird would choose a Matheson bride. I was hoping maybe he would choose me.”

  “I’m sorry ye were disappointed, lass, but as I explained that night it was never my intention to marry from within the clan.”

  “I know ye did. I understand now. It’s the way of things. But I didn’t then. I was also angry about Meriel.”

  “Because I made Meriel work in the kitchens as punishment?” Tadhg asked.

  “Nay, because Lady Matheson arranged for her to learn weaving after what she had done. I’d been working as hard as ever and no one did anything for me.”

  “Did ye want to learn weaving too? Ye need only have asked,” said Mairead.

  “Nay. I didn’t want to learn weaving. I didn’t want to learn cooking. I just wanted to be noticed.”

  “And ye thought destroying Lady Matheson’s instruments would get ye noticed?” Tadhg asked, unable to keep the anger from his voice. Mairead laid her hand gently on his arm.

  “I don’t know what I was thinking, Laird. I’m sorry. Truly I am.”

  He took a deep breath before saying, “That is behind us now. But what on earth possessed ye to do what ye did here?”

  She was quiet for a moment before saying, “For the first time ever, someone seemed to notice me. Darcy said I was pretty and he wanted to dance with me and kiss me. He was so handsome and a laird’s son. He seemed interested in me. I thought he was wonderful. I liked him and I thought he liked me so I let him—I mean, we—well, we—”

  “They know what ye did with Darcy, Finola.” Her father looked ashamed.

  “Aye, well, after that I thought he loved me. I believed him when he told me ye knew him, my lady. I thought ye loved him and he said he only wanted to talk to ye. I guess part of me thought maybe now I had taken the man ye loved away from ye. I also thought that if ye did love him and the laird found out, he would be angry with ye.”

  “Oh, Finola,” Mairead said, dismayed.

  “I’m sorry, my lady.”

  “I understand ye are sorry, Finola, but do ye understand the danger ye put Lady Matheson in?”

  “I do now, Laird.”

  “Do ye also understand that while I can forgive ye, I cannot risk having ye in a place where your poor judgment could do that kind of damage to my loved ones ever again? Ye cannot live and work in the keep at Cnocreidh.”

  “Aye, Laird. Da told me.”

  “Your father and I have decided the best thing is for ye to be married. Ye will have a husband and family to occupy your time.”

  She nodded but still didn’t look up.

  “I was thinking perhaps Angus’ son, Seoras, would be a good husband for ye.”

  “Really?” For the first time that evening, she looked up. “Do ye mean it? Seoras has always been nice to me. His children are lovely.”

  “I haven’t spoken to him yet obviously, but yes, I will make the suggestion. If he is willing and ye believe ye can be a good wife and mother to his children, then ye can marry.”

  She looked down again, dejected. “He won’t want me. Not after what I have done.”

  “Don’t borrow trouble, Finola. Let’s wait and see. I believe he will be pleased to have ye as a wife.”

  Twenty Eight

  Just over a week after Rowan MacKenzie’s wedding to Eara Fraser was to have occurred, he married Sine Fraser instead. To his delight, he learned Fraser’s “little dove” was forged from steel. No one, not even his mother, could bend her when her mind was set. A quiet evening wedding ceremony, followed by a small meal, was all she would allow.

  “Both my brother and sister have disgraced my family. It is not the time for a celebration. I just want to be married and put all of the ugliness behind us.”

  So he stood at the door of the chapel and watched the lovely girl he was to marry pick her way across the wet courtyard on her father’s arm as a light drizzle fell. Her reddish gold hair frizzed in the mist, her nose and cheeks reddened in the chill air, and her damp dress clung provocatively to her curves. She was beautiful and he was happier than he thought possible.

  After the wedding dinner, he slipped away quietly with his new bride and carried her across the threshold of the small cottage in Duncurra’s village that Laird MacIan had given them.

  ~ * ~

  After Rowan left the great hall with his bride, Tadhg, too, slipped away with Mairead. The Mathesons would be returning to Cnocreidh the next morning and he said he wanted to be sure Mairead was well rested.

  However, Mairead didn’t really have resting on her mind. He had treated her gingerly for days and it was going to stop. He closed the chamber door behind them and when he turned around, she launched herself at him. She couldn’t help but giggle when the soft ‘oomph’ escaped him as his back hit the door.

  “What are ye doing?”

  “I’m ravishing ye.”

  “Are ye?”

  “Aye. Do ye object?”

  “Hmm. Ye’re sure ye have recovered?”

  “Days ago.”

  He chuckled. “Well, I guess I can’t object, then.”

  She stood on her tiptoes, put her hands behind his neck, and pulled him into a kiss. Breaking it after a moment, she said, “Ye are too tall.”

  “Well, love, if ye moved this ravishment to the bed, we could make sure all of the important parts lined up better.”

  She giggled again and pulled him across the floor, removing his clothes as she went. When they reached the bed, she gave him a little shove and he fell dramatically across it. “Ye are a bold one, Mairead Matheson.”

  “Stay there,” she commanded.

  “Oh, my sweet, there is nowhere I would rather be.” He watched with pleasure as she removed her own clothes.

  She stood by the bed a moment, looking expectant as he simply lay grinning up at her. Finally she cleared her throat. “Ahem, ye need to move over and make room for me.”

  “Nay, lass, ye are but a wee thing. There is plenty of room right here on top.”

  “But we can’t—”

  “Aye, we can.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her on top of him. “Put your knees on either side of me.”

  “Tadhg, I can’t—”

  “Ride me? Aye, love, ye can. What’s more, it puts ye in control, and if ye have any bruises left I can’t hurt ye accidently.”

  “Tadhg, that was over a week ago. I’m not hurt.”

  “Then this will be even more fun.” And it was.

  Epilogue

  The following November, not long after their first anniversary, Mairead’s baby was due. In spite of her mother’s insistence, she refused to travel to Carraigile for the birth, so her mother and Lily had come to her. The day she went into labor Tadhg was beside himself with worry. She had labored for hours and although Ian’s wife, Katy, was an excellent midwife and assured him all was well, he was nearly in a panic by evening.

  Cathal had practically dragged him from his study. “Ye are far to close here, lad. Ye don’t need to hear what’s going on. Trust me, I’ve been through this seven times. Actually
, sixteen times, if ye count the grandchildren who have been born at Carraigile, and why wouldn’t ye? That last one took ages to arrive and when he did, he let the whole of the Highlands know. Screams louder than any bairn I’ve ever heard. Terran the Terrible, I call him. Och, now I’d appreciate it if ye wouldn’t repeat that.”

  “Cathal, she is so little.”

  “Aye, but she’s tough. Don’t worry, lad.”

  It was nearly midnight when Katy finally appeared in the great hall looking spent. “Laird, it has been a rough evening, but ye can go see them now.”

  Tadhg didn’t wait to hear more but flew up the tower steps, taking them two at a time. He paused outside the door. It was so quiet, he expected to hear a babe’s cries. A crushing fear gripped him. He took a deep breath, preparing for the worst, and opened the door. Mairead lay in their bed, dozing, clearly exhausted but with no baby in her arms. He rushed to her side and she opened her eyes sleepily.

  “Sweetling, are ye well?”

  “Aye, just tired. It took a while for the wee lass Mama is holding to make an appearance.”

  “We have a daughter?” He glanced to where Brigid sat near the hearth, for the first time noticing the baby she held.

  “Aye, ye do,” said Lily from across the room. “And a son.

  He, on the other hand, gave his mama no trouble.”

  “Twins?” he asked, astonished.

  “Aye, twins. It’s been known to happen in our family. Perhaps ye didn’t know this but I myself am a twin,” Lily teased before crossing the room and putting the sleeping baby boy she held into his father’s arms.

  “Nay, Lily, take him back. I’ve never held a bairn before.”

  “Well, seeing as how ye have two now, it’s high time ye started.”

  “Nay, really, I might break him.”

  Mairead laughed weakly. “And people called me a mouse? Ye won’t break him.”

  Perhaps sensing his father’s unease the baby scrunched up his face and started to fret. Tadhg jiggled him a little and crooned, “Ah, there, lad, don’t embarrass your poor da by screeching at him.”

  The baby rooted against him briefly before settling again. Tadhg stared in amazement at the perfect tiny person in his arms. When he looked up at Mairead, she seemed to be dozing again. “Mairead, ye’re shattered, I should let ye rest.”

  “Aye. I need to rest, but I would rest much better with ye here beside me.”

  “But, the babies—I can’t.”

  “Mairead is right, lad. She needs ye right now. Lily and I can manage these two rogues for a while.

  Brigid and Lily took the sleeping babies quietly from the room and at Mairead’s insistence, Tadhg slid into bed beside her, holding her gently. He thought she was asleep and started to doze himself when she asked, “What shall we name them?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I have always liked the name Ann. A lass named Ann is a good, solid friend. Someone ye can count on to be there for ye, like my sister Annag.”

  “Ann Matheson. It is a strong and noble name. I like it.”

  “So do I.”

  “Then it is settled, we shall name her Ann. Now, what about that strapping lad?”

  “I was thinking we could name him after your brother, Robert. Robbie.”

  “I’d like that, sweetling.”

  “Then Robert and Ann it is. Now, ye really must let me rest.”

  He chuckled. “Aye, my brave wee lass, rest. We might have a few busy days ahead of us.”

  Post Note

  “Sexual assault is an act of violence and survivors of sexual assault must remember that it is never their fault. There is never an excuse, invitation, or any plausible reason to ever sexually assault anyone. Sexual assault is an illegal, immoral and unjust act.”

  -Anita Carpenter, Chief Executive Officer, Indiana Coalition Against Sexual Assault

  Dear ones, medieval laws made it very difficult to inflict any punishment on a man who brutalized a woman. While someone from a lower class who committed rape could have been killed or mutilated as punishment, in reality rape was hard to prove and often devastating to the girl who was victimized. In fact, if a woman who was raped became pregnant it was deemed not to be rape because they believed in order to become pregnant, the woman must enjoy the act. These were truly the dark ages. Members of the upper classes who committed sexual assault were much more likely to escape with little or no punishment. Obviously Highland Courage is a product of my imagination. Therefore, I imagine the offender was suitably punished, although I chose not to describe what that punishment might entail.

  Times have changed, though it still takes great courage to report sexual assault and to go through the legal process. I pray that any of you who are in Mairead’s shoes, find the courage to do just that. At the very least, don’t let fear rule you. If you have been assaulted, there is help available. For more information or to seek help in the United States please call the National Sexual Assault Hotline at 1-800-656-HOPE to be anonymously connected to a trained volunteer at a crisis center in your area.

  Warmest regards,

  Ceci

  About The Author

  Ceci’s sixth grade class predicted that she would be an author. “But I want to be a nurse!” she said, in her typically bossy style. As it turns out, she became both. She started her career as an oncology nurse at a leading research hospital, and eventually became a successful medical writer. In 1991 she married a young Irish carpenter who she met at a friend’s wedding. They raised their family in central New Jersey and now with their youngest off to college, Ceci is breaking away from “primary efficacy endpoints” and writing a few “happily ever after’s.”

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