Forgiving Hearts: Duncurra 1-3

by Ceci Giltenan

  Wheesht

  Hush, shhh

  “Courage does not always roar, sometimes it is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying,

  ‘I will try again tomorrow.’”

  ~Mary Ann Radmacher

  Chapter 1

  Carraigile, The Western Highlands, Mid-September 1360

  Her father looked bewildered. “Mairead, don’t ye want to be married? Look at how happy yer sisters are. Ye love yer nieces and nephews. Don’t ye want to be a mother?” Cathal MacKenzie had tried for years to make a match his youngest daughter would accept. Now she suspected his patience was at an end, and he would no longer wait for her approval. Her father had arranged strategically sound marriages for his six oldest children, and they all seemed to be very happy. “Da, I do love the children, but with eight living here and three more when Annag and Hogan visit, why does anything need to change? I’m happy with things the way they are.”

  Her mother, Brigid, tried reasoning with her. “Mairead, my sweet lass, things can’t stay as they are forever. I know ye don’t want to live the religious life. Ye would miss yer family too much, and I couldn’t bear to think of ye locked up in a cloister. Please, dear one, it is time ye were married.”

  “Why, Mama? Why can’t I just stay here?”

  Mairead desperately wanted to avoid the discussion of marriage, but the look of pity in her mother’s eyes spoke volumes. Mairead fought to hold back her tears. She hadn’t cried in seven years, and she wouldn’t start now. Mairead pleaded silently for her mother to intervene, to tell her she never had to marry or leave home if she chose not to. Perhaps sensing his wife’s resolve waver, her father answered, “I’m sorry, Mairead, but that is not an option. Ye are well past the age when most lasses marry.” Mairead started to argue, but her father put up his hand to stop her. “Nay, lass. No more. We will arrange a betrothal for ye when we attend the Michaelmas Festival at the end of this month.”

  “Nay, Da, please...” Terrified, her voice broke, and she couldn’t say more.

  Her father’s countenance softened. “Come with us, sweetling. Ye haven’t been for years, and ye used to love it so. We will find ye a new instrument to conquer and ye can meet the young men we are considering. We’ll take yer wishes into account if we can, love.”

  “I don’t want to go, Da, and I don’t want to get married yet!” Again, she had to blink rapidly to keep the tears from slipping freely down her cheeks.

  “What are ye afraid of?” demanded her father.

  “I’m not—afraid,” she snapped, her voice catching with a sob.

  Now her father’s eyes mirrored the pity she had seen in her mother’s. “The choice to go to the festival or not is yers, Mairead, but we will arrange a betrothal for ye and ye will be married. Soon.”

  “Aye, Da,” she whispered and left her parents’ solar. Mairead wanted to retreat unseen to her chamber, but escaping unnoticed was nearly impossible at Carraigile. All of her siblings and their families lived in the MacKenzie stronghold except her sister Annag, who was married to the laird of Clan MacBain, and her little brother Flan, who had just begun his training as squire for Laird Matheson. After leaving the solar, in order to reach the stairs leading to her chamber, she had to cross the great hall, and her siblings managed to corner her there.

  Both Cathal and Brigid had lost their first spouses, and each had brought children to their marriage. Mairead was their first child together. She had been the baby of the family for years, until Flan was born, and in a way was the person who had firmly united both sets of children. They could all claim her as a sister. She grew up loved and adored by her siblings, but they could also overwhelm her.

  “Mairead, go with us,” Rowan said. “We’re all going. It’ll be fun.”

  “Ye aren’t all going,” countered Mairead. “Cullen and Marjean aren’t going.”

  “That’s because of our new baby,” answered Cullen, “but everyone else is.”

  Mairead crossed her arms and did her best to look defiant. “Lily and Rose aren’t going.” She looked pointedly at their twin sisters, Lilias and Rhoswen.

  “I want to,” said Rhoswen, “but it is awfully hard to travel that far with a baby.” Her youngest was only a year-old and quite a handful.

  “I’m only staying to keep Rose company. Both of our husbands are going,” said Lilias. Cullen rolled his eyes. Lily had given her an opening and Mairead seized it. “Then I will stay and keep ye both company.”

  Peadar’s wife, Rhona, jumped to the rescue. “But then who will keep me company? I’ll be the only woman going if ye stay here.”

  “That’s not true. Naveen is going.”

  Gannon’s wife, Naveen, shook her head, “I am only going as far as my parents’ holding.”

  “Well, Mother is going, and yer mother will be joining ye as well, Rhona,” countered Mairead.

  Rhona pouted prettily. “That’s not the same as a sister.”

  Mairead simply arched an eyebrow at her. Rhona had to know how weak that argument was; at least a score of other Chisholm clanswomen were going.

  Mairead loved her family, but now they smothered her. She slowly edged away from them, saying, “Really, I'm sure it will be fun, but I want to stay here.”

  Gannon tried. “Laird Matheson is going, so Flan will be there, too. Ye were just saying how much ye miss him.”

  “Nay, Gannon. I can’t go.” She edged past him and rushed from the hall.

  Peadar said, “Well that went well,” just before she left.

  By the time she reached her chamber, her emotions were a jumble, and once again she had to fight back the tears. This was awful. Clearly, her family didn’t understand why this scared her so much. They couldn’t possibly understand it. She had never given them the opportunity to understand because she had never been able to tell them why. Perhaps she should have, but she hadn’t found the courage to tell them before and she wasn’t about to tell them tonight. She had to take hold of herself and find the strength to face this.

  She sat by the hearth in her chamber with her head in her hands when a knock sounded at the door. Completely exasperated with her siblings, she yelled through the door, “Go away.”

  Her brother Quinn ignored her and entered her bedchamber. “I can’t, Mairead. We need to talk about this.”

  “Quinn, I know ye all mean well, but please leave me alone. I don’t want to go to the fair.”

  “I know ye don’t want to go.” He leaned his back against the door, but his casual stance belied the serious expression on his face. “I want to know why.”

  “I just don’t. Why can’t ye all accept that?”

  He ignored her question. “Mairead, I’ve never talked with ye about it and maybe I should have, but I know something happened the last time ye went.”

  She waved her hands in irritation. “Everyone knows something happened, Quinn. To quote Peadar, I was colossally stupid and wandered off with Flan.”

  “Yes, everyone knows that. What I want to know is what happened when ye wandered off?”

  “Ye know that already too. I lost Flan, then I found him, and that priest walked us back to camp.”

  “Mairead, ye’re lying to me. I knew it then, and I know it now.”

  Mairead couldn’t meet his gaze. “Go away, Quinn.”

  “Ye changed seven years ago. Tell me what happened.” The urgent note in his voice was unmistakable as he crossed the room and crouched in front of her.

  “I don’t know what ye are talking about. I didn’t change.” She slammed her fists against the arms of her chair in frustration.

  “Ye did. I’m sure there are cloistered nuns who are more outgoing than ye are, Mairead.”

  “And ye know a lot of cloistered nuns?”

  “That’s not the point.”

  “Nay, but it’s all nonsense anyway. I have always been...timid. MacKenzie’s Mouse, remember? I just like being at home.”

  She hated the nickname “MacKenzie’s Mouse” and no one within t
he family used it. However, many people outside the family and clan did, although it was her appearance and not her temperament that initially gave rise to the name. Da’s children by his first wife were tall and blond with crystal blue eyes. Although her mother was petite, all Mama’s children from her first marriage were also tall—frankly, Peadar and Rowan were huge—and they all had Mother’s dark hair and dark brown eyes. Remarkably attractive, all eight of her older siblings turned heads. Even at four and ten, Flan was a head taller than most lads his age and already showed signs of having the dark good looks of Mama’s family, but with Da’s bright blue eyes. More like her mother, Mairead was smaller than her siblings, with light brown hair and pale grey eyes. She felt mousey in comparison. However, Quinn was right. She would never admit it to him, but something had changed seven years ago.

  Quinn looked directly into her eyes. “Mairead, I know ye better than anyone. I know something bad happened to ye then, and ye have been hiding ever since. Da is getting ready to marry ye off, and I am worried for ye. For the love of God, lass, tell me what happened. No one can help ye if ye keep this locked away.”

  “Go away, Quinn,” she whispered.

  He sighed and shook his head in frustration. He rose and kissed the top of her head. “Ye can talk to me, Mairead. Ye can tell me when ye’re ready.” Then he turned and left her room.

  She would never be ready. She couldn’t tell him. She couldn’t tell anyone. She wanted to keep it locked away.

  Chapter 2

  The Michaelmas Cattle Fair held every year during the last week of September near Inverness signaled the official end of the harvest. Warriors competed in games and tournaments to demonstrate their strength, speed, agility, and fighting skills. Merchants set up stalls selling everything from fine fabric to weapons.

  Tadhg Matheson hadn’t attended the fair since his father died three years ago. His friends, Peadar and Quinn MacKenzie, and their little brother, Flan, now sat around the fire at his encampment talking. They laughed and discussed the day’s various tournaments. “Yer brother Rowan held his own against Darcy Fraser today. Darcy is rather well known for his skill with a sword, not to mention the fact he has a few years on Rowan.”

  Peadar grinned with pride and nodded. “Aye, but Rowan is a remarkable swordsman. He has a natural ability. It is almost as if he can predict his opponent’s movements. On top of which, he trained with Alastair MacIan. That old man was a brilliant swordsman.”

  “Aye, he was at that. Ye remember how skilled his son Fingal was even as a lad, when he started training with Laird Chisholm?”

  Quinn laughed. “Oh, I remember. He knocked me on my arse too many times to let me easily forget.” Peadar laughed heartily. “I’m not sure what ye are laughing at. Ye’re only three years older than me, but he got the best of ye often enough, too.”

  Peadar laughed harder. “Aye, he did.”

  “Well, I was older than both of ye and it took him a few years to best me, but he did several times. Rowan is every bit as skilled as Fingal. He certainly took Darcy down a few pegs today.” Tadhg glanced at his squire who sat nearby, staring broodingly into the fire. “What say ye, Flan? Do ye think ye have the same natural ability as yer brother?”

  Flan, clearly distracted, hadn’t been paying attention. On hearing his laird address him, he looked confused. “What natural ability is that, Laird?”

  Peadar nudged him in the shoulder. “Flan, lad, what’s the matter? I thought ye would be excited to be here since ye’re a squire now. Especially after today.”

  “It’s just the talk of the Frasers has me worried.”

  “Oh.” Quinn nodded, seeming to understand what his brother meant.

  Clearly, Quinn understood Flan’s cryptic comment, but Tadhg was at a loss. “Why do the Frasers worry ye, Flan?”

  The lad shook his head, as if in defeat. “It’s Mairead.”

  Peadar clearly read the utter confusion on Tadhg’s face and offered an explanation with a note of concern in his voice. “Our parents are discussing a betrothal for our sister, Mairead, while we are here. Da is interested in improving his ties with the Frasers. They are discussing it with Laird Fraser now.”

  “Ye disapprove?”

  “Not exactly. I understand Da’s reasons. It is time for Mairead to marry. It’s just she is less than thrilled by the prospect.”

  “Marriage in general or just to Darcy Fraser?”

  “Marriage,” Quinn answered. Peadar frowned and tried to clarify. “She is a bit shy and doesn’t want to leave home. I think Da is trying to arrange a betrothal with one of Lachlan’s nephews. He is hoping whoever she marries will be willing to live with our clan.”

  Flan perked up suddenly, looking very excited. “Laird Matheson, ye could marry her. I’m sure ye would like her. She’s awfully small even to be as old as she is.”

  Peadar laughed. “Flan, she is only one and twenty.”

  “Well, one and twenty is a lot older than Annag, Rose, and Lily were when they married. She is also very pretty, Laird. Not exactly pretty like Rose and Lily, or even Annag, but she is pretty in a different way. And she is nice. Well, not always at first, as Peadar said. She is very shy, but once she knows someone, well, most everyone likes her.

  “Flan, ye have just painted an atrocious picture of our sister,” scolded Peadar.

  However, Tadhg just laughed. “I’m sure she’s lovely, but yer Da is looking to improve his ties with the Frasers.”

  Quinn clearly took the suggestion seriously. “She is lovely. What’s more, she has the skills it takes to run a keep. She would be a good wife for ye, Tadhg. Perhaps more importantly, I think ye would be a good husband for her. Ye would treat her well.”

  “Quinn, I am the laird of my clan. I couldn’t live with the MacKenzies.”

  Peadar approved, as well. “Nay, but yer land borders ours. Ye are less than a day’s ride away and Flan trains with ye, so she wouldn’t be without any family. Ye do need to marry.”

  “None of this changes the fact yer Da wants to improve his ties with Fraser. Perhaps it would be best if she married one of the younger Frasers and stayed at home as she wishes.”

  Quinn weighed his words. “Perhaps. We just have never been allied with the Frasers, so we don’t really know them well.”

  “That is the point, isn’t it? It’s the reason yer Da seeks the betrothal?”

  “Aye, but marrying our timid sister to someone we know very little about has me worried, too.”

  “Lachlan has daughters. There is always Rowan,” observed Peadar.

  “Or Quinn,” Flan said.

  “Or Flan,” Quinn countered.

  Tadhg laughed at the interplay between brothers. He had always envied the MacKenzie’s close family bond. Tadhg had only had one brother who would have been twenty-two now, Quinn’s age. Seeing the brothers together when Quinn had started training reminded him painfully of his loss. However, befriending them allowed him to feel a little of the brotherly bond he missed. “I don’t think either of ye needs to worry about it. The discussion is already underway, and Fraser would be a fool not to settle one of his clansmen with yer sister. It would certainly be in his best interests to have yer father as an ally.” Peadar nodded. “That is true.”

  The conversation shifted to other topics until the hour grew late, forcing Peadar and Quinn to seek their own camp reluctantly.

  ~ * ~

  Tadhg thought no more about betrothals until the next day when Flan sought him out again, tears streaming down his face. “What is the matter, lad?”

  “It’s my sister. If ye would just marry her everything would be all right, but she can’t marry Darcy Fraser.”

  “Flan, yer father wasn’t seeking a betrothal with Darcy. It was to be with one of his cousins.

  “That’s not what happened,” Flan wailed. “If Mairead marries Darcy, she will have to leave home and she can’t. It will be awful for her if she does. It is too far away. If ye would just marry her, she would be close. She cou
ld be with me.”

  “Flan, I know it is hard to think about yer sister moving away, but ye will be all right. It is part of growing up, lad.”

  “I’m not worried about myself. That isn’t why I want her close. Ye don’t understand. No one does.”

  “Flan, calm down,” Laird Matheson ordered firmly. “If yer parents think it is a good match, tell me why ye think Mairead shouldn’t go so far away.”

  Flan looked desperate and seemed to be fighting some sort of an inner battle. Finally, he sighed, appearing to have made a decision. “Ye remember Peadar told ye Mairead is little shy?”

  “Aye.”

  “Well, she is more than a little shy. She is afraid of everyone, and that is because of something I did. It will kill her to leave home and live with strangers, and it will be my fault.”

  “Flan, I have no idea what ye are talking about. Ye had better start at the beginning and tell me now.”

  Flan took a deep breath before launching into the story. “Seven years ago, we were here at the festival, and I goaded Mairead into sneaking away with me to look at the stalls. She didn’t want to. Da told us we couldn’t go alone. She was afraid I would get lost, but I kept teasing her. I called her a coward and a mouse.” Flan leaned in to tell him, “she hates being called a mouse,” and rolled his eyes as if he couldn’t imagine why. “Finally, she gave in and we sneaked away to the merchant stalls. Mairead loves music. I was looking at one of the stalls and she turned away from me to listen to a minstrel. Since she was afraid of losing me, I thought it would be funny to hide from her so when she turned back around, she couldn’t see me.”

  Flan looked embarrassed but continued, “She looked for me frantically, but before I could pop out and surprise her, she was gone. I tried to find her—I looked everywhere around the stalls, but she wasn’t there. I thought that maybe she went back to our camp, so I did, too. I caught up with her on the road, and she was with a priest who had found her crying. At first, I thought she was just upset at losing me. But her clothes were dirty—she said she had fallen down running. She was never the same after that, and I think something bad happened to her.”