Mairead supposed her whole family breathed a collective sigh of relief at her apparent acceptance of the betrothal. They stopped treading carefully around her and threw themselves into the wedding preparations.
~ * ~
Laird Matheson had announced the betrothal on his return from the Michaelmas Festival, shocking his clan. Although they greeted him with the appropriate congratulations and good wishes, he had the vague feeling not everyone was as happy for him as they professed. Until then, he had never discussed any potential betrothals. Therefore, he supposed it came as a bit of a shock. He hadn’t planned to arrange a betrothal so imminently.
Tadhg also found himself questioning his decision. What had happened to her? Was she attacked; did someone hurt her? If she was attacked, she should have told someone. God’s teeth, why wouldn’t she have told someone? Flan said when he caught up to her she was crying, and her clothes were dirty. If she had only been roughed up a bit, why wouldn’t she say so? What could have happened that made her so frightened she wouldn’t speak about it? Had the worst happened? Had she been raped? By all the saints, he hoped not, but it would explain her silence. She would have been old enough to know her father could have forced a betrothal with her attacker. That alone must have been petrifying. Even the thought of it now made his heart ache for the lass.
Cathal seemed like a loving father, but there would have been few other options for him. If he didn’t arrange her betrothal to the attacker, he could have either quietly sent her to a convent or leveled an accusation of rape. An accusation would have opened the entire family and Mairead particularly, to public scandal. While if convicted, a rapist could be maimed or put to death, convictions were rare. Furthermore, once publicized, the rape would have made it difficult to ever secure a betrothal for Mairead. It is likely she would have ended up in a convent anyway. With this knowledge, how could a terrified lass have been expected to know what to do? If she were raped, she would not come to him as a virgin. Did that really matter? He didn’t want it to. If someone had hurt her, she hadn’t freely given herself to another man. Did it matter? Perhaps he was jumping to conclusions anyway. The betrothal was already set and there was no sense in borrowing trouble. He set his doubts aside. He believed he made the right decision by offering for her. Now he just had to figure out to handle a bride who had likely been brutalized in some way and was scared witless.
~ * ~
At Carraigile, the month flew by in a whirlwind of activity. The women of her family made what she considered an obscene amount of new clothing for her, not to mention a wide variety of household linens. She tried to temper their enthusiasm, but it was to no avail.
Her entire family, all of her siblings, their spouses, and children would be going to the wedding. Even Annag and Hogan with their three children would be traveling first to Carraigile then on to Cnocreidh with the rest of the family. This caused her the most distress because she believed there wouldn’t be a wedding. She begged her parents to go with her alone to Cnocreidh.
“Mama, please, can’t we just keep things simple? Not everyone needs to come. Just ye and Da can travel with me.”
“Mairead, love, what are ye talking about?”
“I just hate to cause so much trouble.”
“Trouble? Sweetling, everyone wants to attend your wedding.”
“But, Mama, listen to me. Maybe it would be better if we spread the visits out rather than everyone going all at once. Someone could visit every few weeks until Rowan’s wedding in May, and I wouldn’t miss ye all so badly.”
“Mairead, ye are being silly. Your Da and I couldn’t prevent your brothers and sisters from attending the wedding even if we wanted to, and we don’t. Besides, there will be representatives from our allies throughout the Highlands at this wedding. The Mathesons and the MacKenzies are both powerful clans and the other clans will expect a large wedding celebration as a sign of unity.”
Knowing clans from all over the Highlands were planning to attend the wedding horrified her. What if—no, she wouldn’t think about it. No matter what she did, there was no shielding her family from the embarrassment and shame that lay in store. If this shame was inevitable, she should stop it all now. She should tell her parents why this wedding couldn’t take place. The resulting scandal would be much less profound than if all of the Highlands turned up for her ill-fated wedding. Mairead, ye are a coward, spare your family this and accept the consequences. However each time she was on the verge of confessing, the specter of her attacker hovered in her thoughts, and she couldn’t do it. Would her father insist on finding the man and perhaps forcing a betrothal to him? She didn’t want to think about it—she couldn’t face it. She decided the scandal stemming from a cancelled wedding would be less painful for her family than the scandal of her lost innocence.
The day they left for Cnocreidh, several days before the wedding, her resolve began to slip once more. She glanced around at the massive MacKenzie entourage. It not only included her entire family but also two nursemaids, twenty MacKenzie guardsmen, and ten MacBain guardsmen. Sixty people in all prepared to ride out of Carraigile to attend a wedding that would never take place. The reality of the situation struck her full force. She was leaving her home, the cocoon where she had been safe for so long, and heading straight into utter shame and humiliation. Stop them. Tell them. How would they ever forgive her for letting this happen? She wanted to weep, but she hadn’t allowed herself to cry since that terrifying afternoon seven years ago. There was simply no point. Ye brought this misery on yourself, Mairead, and now ye have to deal with it. Taking a deep breath, she rode out of the courtyard and did not look back.
They arrived at Cnocreidh in the early evening, just before dark. A massive fortress, it stood on the top of a bare hill, making it impossible to approach unobserved. An inner wall surrounded the keep, while the outer wall enclosed the entire village. They entered through a manned barbican in the outer wall and rode through the village. Sixty people don’t arrive anywhere quietly; so many of the villagers came out of their homes to watch them pass. They entered the courtyard through another manned barbican in the inner curtain wall. Amid all the confusion around her, Mairead just sat on her horse, panic rising again. Dear God, help.
Four
Laird Matheson greeted his guests with an army of stable hands and servants ready to see to their needs. A small, terrified looking lass in the middle of all of the activity immediately captured Tadhg’s attention. He smiled. Without a doubt, this was his bride. She looked a little lost and clearly was unsure of what to do. Feeling the need to rescue her, he made his way to her side.
“Ye must be Mairead. Allow me to help ye down.” He lifted her from her mount.
“Good evening, Laird Matheson,” she said demurely.
When her feet were on the ground, he winked at her and grinned. “Call me Tadhg, I think we are to be married.”
She laughed and blushed crimson. “Aye, so I’ve heard. Good evening, Tadhg.”
“Ye’re a bold one, Matheson,” Cathal said from behind him. “Ye’ve robbed me of the opportunity to introduce ye to your betrothed.”
Tadhg laughed and gripped her father’s proffered forearm. “Forgive me, Laird MacKenzie, for being an inpatient bridegroom.” Then he announced, “The evening meal is nearly ready to be served, please join me in the great hall.” Taking Mairead’s arm, he led her away from the throng and into the keep.
Two fires roared in hearths on both sides of the massive great hall. He had held the evening meal until the visitors arrived. The head of his household staff met them at the door. “Mairead, this is Elspet, she manages the castle staff here. Elspet, this is Mairead MacKenzie, my betrothed.”
Elspet smiled and curtsied. “Please let me know if ye need anything, my lady.”
The tiny lass who was to be his wife smiled shyly. “Thank ye, Elspet. I will.”
In the next instant, Tadhg’s squire hurtled toward Mairead, crushing her in an exuberant embrace. “I’m glad
ye’re here, Mairead!”
She laughed nervously. “I’ve missed ye too, Flan.” When he released her, Flan enthusiastically greeted the rest of the family. Tadhg grinned. As brave and bold as his squire normally appeared, he still was very much a young lad who missed his family.
Tadhg led her to the laird’s table, seating her at his right side. Seeing her for the first time in the light of the hall, Tadhg found her perfectly lovely. He grinned when he remembered Flan’s initial description of her, which had seemed less than flattering at the time. In fact, everything Flan had said was true, if somewhat misleading. Diminutive and not remotely like her other sisters in appearance, Mairead had a delicate beauty of her own. She also seemed as shy as her brothers claimed, blushing most charmingly at the simplest comments.
~ * ~
Swept up in the flow of events, Mairead was a little overwhelmed and didn’t quite know what to make of Laird Matheson. The attention he paid her caught her completely off guard. In the flurry of activity usually surrounding her large family, she could always slip into the background, but he seemed to focus only on her. It left her blushing persistently but, oddly, didn’t make her uncomfortable.
She found him friendly, funny, and exceedingly handsome. His dark wavy hair was not terribly long, curling at the nape of his neck. His warm, dark green eyes sparkled and Lord, was he tall compared to her. Although he had a slender build, he was clearly very strong He had lifted her from the saddle as if she weighed no more than a toddler. So fully consumed by worry about the betrothal, up to this moment Mairead hadn’t thought about the man himself. Aye, he was very attractive, just looking at him caused a strange flutter in her belly. Again, she remembered her sisters’ reactions to their husbands. I might enjoy being married to him.
No sooner had this thought crossed her mind than she remembered what she was going to have to tell him and the thought sobered her. Still, he seemed very kind. She was confident he would agree with her plan to break the betrothal. That thought caused the flutter in her belly to settle like a lead weight, leaving her feeling slightly nauseous. There was no avoiding it; she had to get this over soon.
Tadhg must have observed the shadow of concern cross her face because he leaned close to her, saying quietly, “What troubles ye, Mairead?”
A hot blush rose in her cheeks. Does he notice everything? She gave him a small sad smile, saying barely above a whisper, “There is something I need to talk to ye about. But—but—we need to—to be alone.”
He looked momentarily puzzled, but his expression quickly shifted to concern, perhaps even pity. “I think we can manage that. Cnocreidh is rather large.” He winked. Why did her heart flutter every time he did that? “If ye aren’t too tired, perhaps we can take a walk after dinner?” He took her hand in his and squeezed it lightly before letting it go.
“That would be fine,” she whispered.
When the meal was over, he instructed his servants to show his guests to their chambers and see to their comforts. He turned to her parents. “Laird and Lady MacKenzie please consider this your home and let one of my servants know if ye need anything at all. Now, I’m sure ye won’t mind if I take my bride for an evening stroll.” Leaving no room for objection, he clasped her hand and walked away with her. Her father’s mouth fell open, and her siblings exchanged nervous glances, but they said nothing.
Tadhg and Mairead stepped out of the great hall into the now quiet courtyard. The night was cold and Mairead pulled her plaid over her head.
Tadhg looped her arm over his. “It’s probably too cold for a very long walk this evening. Would ye like to step into the chapel so we can talk out of the wind?”
“Aye, that would probably be best.”
The dim chapel, lit only by the sanctuary light, was a peaceful escape from the noise and bustle of the great hall. He guided her to one of the benches and sat beside her. He took her hand and simply waited. He said nothing nor did he push her to talk.
After a moment she said softly, “There is something I have to tell ye before things go any further.”
“Ye can tell me whatever is on your mind, Mairead.”
“I can’t let ye marry me without knowing—without knowing—I’m not—I’m not…” her voice trailed off. She shook her head in disgust. “I’m such a coward.”
He gave her a searching look. “Nay, Mairead, ye’re not.”
She started again. “I can’t let ye marry me without knowing I’m not—I’m not…” Several hot tears slipped down her cheeks as she struggled to find the words for what she had to tell him.
~ * ~
He found her so enchanting, he had trouble taking his eyes off her during dinner. It took him a bit by surprise when she asked to speak with him alone. As bashful as she clearly was, he certainly hadn’t expected it. As soon as the moment of shock passed, instinct told him this had something to do with what had happened to her years ago. He could only hope whatever it was; she would be honest with him. Still, part of him dreaded to hear about what left her so frightened and brought the haunted look to her eyes now. If the worst had happened to her, how would he handle it? He asked himself the question that had troubled him ever since Flan told him about that day at the Michaelmas Fair. Had she been raped? Was she a virgin and if she wasn’t, did that really matter to him?
Watching her struggle now caused his heart to ache. There was only one thing this shy, beautiful woman, sitting in the cold, dark chapel, could be trying so desperately to tell him. With this clarity, all doubts fled. Her maidenhood didn’t matter to him. At this moment, he only wanted to ease her pain. He squeezed her hands tightly, willing her his strength. “Are ye trying to tell me ye are not a virgin, Mairead?”
She nodded; her chin quivered and tears spilled out of her silver eyes, slipping silently down her cheeks. Taking her in his arms, he pulled her close. He tucked her head under his chin and smoothed his hand gently over her hair. “It’s all right, little one. Tell me what happened.”
It pleased him beyond words that instead of moving away, she sunk into his embrace. With her cheek resting on his chest, he simply listened as she told him the story she had never told anyone before. She told him about how she and Flan left their encampment despite their father’s orders and how she lost him.
“I didn’t know what to do. I had to get help, so I headed back to our campsite. I ran into five young men on the road. They wouldn’t let me pass.”
“Do ye know who they were?”
“Nay. I told them I needed to find my brother. They—they hurt me. They p—pulled me into the woods. I was s—s—so scared. One tried to k—kiss me and I bit him. He yelled at me and threw me on the ground. It knocked the wind out of me. He s—s—said I was alone and asking for it. I screamed and tried to get away, but he jumped on me and told his friends to h—hold me down. I couldn’t m—m—move. They were hurting me and I w—was crying but they just l—l—laughed. He pushed my skirts up then—then—it hurt.” Mairead sobbed, unable to say anything for a moment. Finally she added, “Then, someone pulled him off me. It was a p—priest.”
She finished the story, and he just held her while she cried. When she had some semblance of control back, she said, “So ye see it was all my fault and I am a coward. I was scared. My family was angry because Flan and I had wandered off. They were so disappointed in me. I couldn’t bring myself to tell them what really happened. I am so sorry. I should have told them before now, but I thought maybe—maybe I would never have to. After Da told me about the betrothal, I—I still couldn’t tell them, but I had to tell ye.”
She paused a moment. He thought this was the end of her story, but she still seemed to be waging some internal battle. It was as if she was trying to summon enough courage to tell him something else. Of all the things that she might have been preparing to say, her words stunned him. “I was hoping ye would just ask to set the betrothal aside and not tell them why. I will go to a convent.”
Perhaps it was the sheer unexpectedness of what s
he said that caused him to answer her so bluntly. “I won’t do that, Mairead.”
She looked supremely disappointed. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I had just hoped—I didn’t want my family to know my shame.”
“Nay, Mairead, ye misunderstand, that’s not what I meant. I want to marry ye.”
“Ye—but—”
“Mairead, none of this was your fault. No one asks to be attacked, ever. I understand why ye didn’t tell your family when it happened. I’m sure ye were terrified and didn’t know what to do. After all, ye were barely more than a wee lass. I am very glad ye felt ye could tell me about it but, sweetling, I suspected something like this might have happened before I offered for ye.”
Mairead’s mouth dropped open. “I don’t understand. How could ye have known?”
“Flan told me the part of the story which he knew. He said after the day at the fair ye were scared and more timid than ever before. I suspected something terrible had happened in the time ye were separated and I think he does as well. He blames himself.”
“He was just a child, only seven. I am the one who should have known better.”
“Ye were both children and ye made a mistake children make. The blame rests solely on the men who attacked ye. I told Flan as much.”
“But why did he tell ye all of this?”
“Because your parents were planning a betrothal for ye with Darcy Fraser. Flan was worried about ye being afraid and so far from home.”
On hearing what her brother had done, she first looked shocked, then mortified. She pushed away from him. “Oh, by all that’s holy, tell me Flan didn’t ask ye to marry me!”
Tadhg laughed, pulling her back into his arms. “Aye, he did. But I am glad he did. It is a good union between our families and I had considered it before. When he told me how important it was for ye to feel safe and be close to your family, it was the push I needed. Now I have met ye, I think ye are perfectly lovely and I am delighted with ye.”
Highland Courage Page 3