Chapter Five
Sheona
Sheona hadn’t moved inside yet from the parapets after Taskill had left. True, it was getting chilly, but she didn’t mind. She knew she was in a bind. A true bind that she had no way of getting out of if she knew her sire well enough.
She’d escaped everyone’s mind for long enough, and in that, she’d been fortunate. They’d lost their dear mother, Ailis, over a year ago. Her father still hadn’t adjusted to her loss because Ailis had done so much for their clan.
Then Lennox fell in love with Meg, and Sloan married Eva.
Her father had been so involved with Sloan and Eva.
Then he’d had to deal with losing his son, something Sheona still didn’t think he was over, even though he’d declared that he no longer had a son named Rinaldo.
He’d denied him, put a blade in his own son’s heart, and was so upset, no one was allowed to mention her dead brother’s name. Dermot had disinherited his own son.
Then there was Marta and Gideon’s loss of two bairns in the past couple of years. Everyone had taken it hard because Marta had suffered so. And when she’d finally kept the last pregnancy for so long, everyone had been on tiptoes praying the bairn would survive.
And Margret Ailis did survive. Like a wee warrior, she’d been born with a cry that had echoed to the rafters in the middle of the night, and everyone had cheered. Marta had named her after their dear mother, and their father had cried for an entire day.
Then there were the constant attacks on the different clans on Mull and the addition of the Granthams at Duart Castle. The isle had been in such turmoil with the assault on the different clans, the missing bairns, that they’d had to gather together to fight off the evil one named Kelvan.
But they had, and everything had returned to a usual pace. Except her father had to have something to focus on.
And Sheona was the something he’d chosen.
Damn it all to hell and up to the tip of Ben Buie.
Now everything had quieted down, and winter was nearly upon them. The cold had come along, with the snowflakes due to be here soon. Yuletide would be here before they knew it. Sloan and Eva were ecstatically happy, as were Gideon and Marta, and Lennox and Meg.
That left all the attention on Sheona, something she’d dreaded. She wouldn’t tell anyone the truth—that the thought of mating with a man made her ill. So she had to come up with a good reason to stay single.
She appreciated that Taskill had come to explain his reasons, even though they were foolish. But actually, he’d given her another reason not to marry. She couldn’t imagine being in love and finding out your husband was with another. That confirmed everything.
She would not marry anyone.
The door opened, and she’d expected to see Marta or Eva, but instead, her father sauntered across the parapets, finding a stool to set beside hers.
“Greetings to you, lass.”
“Da.” Sheona fumbled with the fur she had across her lap, something to keep her hands busy.
“Lass, I apologize for yelling so at you. But you know how I feel about chieftains’ business.”
“Nay, I don’t. Please tell me why I shouldn’t be involved when you’re discussing my life. This wasn’t some minor issue, Papa. You wished to choose someone without asking me. Why?”
“Och, because that’s the way it’s always been done. We made arrangements that would guarantee our allies for years to come. It’s the way of the Highlands. You know it, lass.”
“Da, do you really think MacVeys would ever turn against us? Especially when Sloan is married to Eva?”
He sighed. “Nay, but I’m not going to be around forever, Sheona. I’d like to see you happily married with bairns of your own.”
She considered her words carefully before saying what was on her mind, trying to offer the best explanation her father would accept.
“But what if I don’t think I’m right for marriage?
” She had no desire to marry anyone else but Taskill, and since he wasn’t willing to marry her, then her choice was no marriage at all, for more than one reason.
“Oh, horse bollocks. Every lass should be married. Why would you wish to spend your life alone? I’ve been lost without my Ailis, and you know it.”
“I just don’t think I would like married life.” She dropped her gaze, hoping her sire wouldn’t see the fear in her eyes. After all, she knew what would happen when one got married. She was fully aware of maidenheads and how they got ripped out of one’s insides, making a lass bleed and cry in pain.
Scream in pain.
Nay. Not for her. Why would she want that forced on her just to have a bairn? And the pain of childbirth? She’d heard Marta and decided that wasn’t for her either.
Her mind was made up. She would never marry.
“Well, if you’re going to be that stubborn about it, then your choices are limited, lass. You have to become a nun.” He stood up, not waiting to hear her response, something that surprised her.
She could have guessed a hundred different responses, but none of them would have come close to this. “A nun? You mean live in a kirk?”
“Aye, if you cannot be married with a man, then you must devote your life to the Lord. Those are your choices, Sheona. I’ll not allow anything else.
A spinster’s life is no life for one of my girls.
Find a husband or become a nun. You think on it and let me know by the morrow.
” He got up to take his leave and headed to the staircase.
“Da, wait.” She stood, waiting for him to turn around because she wished to see his expression.
It took him a while, but he finally turned back to her. “What is it?”
“You wish to get rid of me? Send me off to the nunnery? Just because I don’t wish to marry Taskill MacVey?”
“Nay. I wish for you to marry and have bairns. Live on the isle. The only one is Taskill. I don’t think Brian MacQuarie is right for you, so its MacVey or the nunnery.”
“What about the Granthams? There are others. Broc MacNicol is betrothed to Merryn MacClane.”
“Fine. You find a Grant who will marry you and I’ll agree. None of those Ramsays. Anyone with Logan Ramsay blood in them is no good. I don’t want my granddaughters acting like Gwyneth Ramsay either. You’ve got one sennight. I’ll contact the nunnery, just in case that’s your choice.”
Sheona fell back onto her stool after her sire left. She had three choices—a nunnery, Taskill, or find a Grant to marry. Her life was falling apart.
She had to find Marta and see what she thought.
Marta would surely be in her chamber feeding wee Margret. It was nearly the bairn’s bedtime, though the wee lass did not sleep through the night yet.
She knocked on Marta’s door. “May I come in to chat with you, Marta?”
“Of course,” she called out.
Sheona peeked her head around the corner.
“Come in, Sheona. Gideon is with Sloan and Da, checking the curtain wall. Some area that needs repairing. I’m glad Gideon is familiar with Da’s ways. Anything upsets Papa these days, including you, poor sister.” Margret suckled quietly while Marta sipped on some wine.
“I surely have upset him. I just came from a conversation with Da, and I wish to hear your thoughts.”
“Oh dear. I can tell it was not a pleasant conversation, was it?”
Sheona shook her head, fighting her tears. “Nay. Not good at all.” She lifted her gaze to the ceiling, hoping her tears would stay at bay. “He said I must marry.”
“Well, that’s not so bad. So, he’s not forcing you to marry Taskill? I thought that would please you.”
“He said I could marry someone else on the isle, but who is there? I don’t care much for Brian MacQuarie, so he said my only other choice was a Grant.
He said marrying a Ramsay wasn’t allowed.
And I don’t know any Grants other than Broc, and he’s pledged to Merryn MacClane now.
Do you know any other Grant men of age? Nice ones?
” Not that it mattered to her. It wasn’t that she was set against Taskill as she was set against any man at all.
Marta said, “Let me think. Grant men. So, Connor is a Grant, and his daughter is Dyna. Doesn’t she have a sister and two brothers?
She has a sister Astra, and a younger brother.
I think there’s a blond lad who’s older.
Hagen, I think? He has those blue eyes that see right through you.
Like Dyna and her mother. Isn’t it fun to see how their bairns all came out?
Sela is white-haired, blue-eyed, and Connor has the darkest hair ever with blue eyes.
And Dyna is like her mother. And the youngest one, Morgan, looks like Connor.
But Hagen is fair-haired, not white-haired, but golden.
They say Connor’s mother was golden-haired. Mayhap you should consider Hagen.”
“I’ll speak with Dyna when we go. But how do I go ask her? Wouldn’t it seem unusual to approach and inquire about her brother’s marital status?”
“I know. I heard they are having a festival on the morrow. A big one. We can go. I’ll go with you.
Dyna told me once they all have brothers when I asked about Broc.
She said Broc has two brothers and two sisters.
And Alaric has a brother, and he is handsome, is he not?
I met him once. His name is Jowell, I think.
I wonder if he’s here. You could have your pick.
I’ll help you.” She reached over and patted Sheona’s hands.
Sheona couldn’t fathom walking into Clan Grantham and asking Dyna if there was an available bachelor. What a ridiculous thought. “Where is the nearest nunnery? Mayhap I should consider becoming a nun.”
“A nunnery? There aren’t any on the isle.
There’s one on Iona near the abbey. They say it’s lovely.
Isn’t that where Magni stayed with his parents?
And I think that’s where Simone and Artan live too, though Artan goes back and forth because he’s Quade’s second.
I would bet that Simone comes to MacQuarie Castle soon.
I heard she loves the beaches and likes to lie in the nude in the sun, and no one sees her …
” Marta giggled, then looked at her sister.
Sheona couldn’t stop the tears from falling. Where did she belong?
“Sheona, you might enjoy visiting the nunnery, talking to some of the nuns. But I don’t see you as a nun. You don’t pray often, do you?”
Sheona shook her head. “Mama did, but I do not view the church in the same way she did.”
“I don’t either. I pray, but not as often as I should. Please tell me more about Taskill and marriage. Why is it you don’t wish to marry? Is it Taskill or any man? And if so, why?”
“I don’t think I’m a good match with Taskill.”
“But I remember you having fun with him when you were younger. He would tease you and chase you and toss you in the sound like you were a feather. And you paired up for the obstacle courses. You always laughed with him, didn’t you?”
“I did, but we were kids. He also rejected me. He told Da he wouldn’t marry me, so why would I wish to pursue him? I don’t know him at all now. All I know is what I hear about him …”
Marta lifted Margret and held her against her shoulder, patting her back to try to get her to burp.
“You mean that he is a flirt? I don’t think he is.
Taskill is one of those people who loves life.
He enjoys talking with everyone. Just because he jests with a lass or teases her doesn’t mean he’s bedding her.
I don’t know …” Margret fussed after letting out a loud belch, one that made Sheona giggle, but then the lassie began to whimper.
“I have more, lassie. Calm down.” Then she tried to put her back to the breast.
While Marta fussed with her daughter, Sheona considered something she never had before. Perhaps she should disclose her reason for rejecting marriage; the notion unsettled her to the point of dizziness. Was it time to tell her sister the truth?
Why she knew she could never marry.
Explain what had happened that taught her so much.
Why no Grant—Hagen or Jowell—would suit her. She would die of embarrassment before she’d tell her sire, but Marta would listen and understand. Wouldn’t she?
Margret cried and swung her wee fists. “She just won’t latch on this side. I tell her she gets too impatient and then it doesn’t work.” The bairn hollered louder and Marta got more upset and the babe cried harder and …
“I’ll come back later, Marta.”
She couldn’t tell anyone the truth, so Sheona left.
She was destined to become a nun.