Chapter Seven
Sheona
Sheona’s palms sweat more than they ever had before, but for good reason. Her father had warned her that if she couldn’t find an acceptable man to marry this eve that he would be taking her to the Iona nunnery soon.
She did not wish to go to a nunnery.
The group arrived outside the gates of Duart Castle late in the afternoon.
Sloan rode with Eva, while Sheona rode next to her father, the familiar guard Clyde with two others behind them for safety reasons.
Sloan had brought Ingelram along to keep an eye on their father and his wanderings.
She’d overheard Sloan tell Ingelram that if his father became unruly or belligerent that he was to get Sloan immediately and he’d send Dermot home.
Sheona prayed her father would keep quiet.
By the looks of the paths coming to the castle, it would be a large festival.
Most festivals started when the sun was still up, but there was no promise as to when the festivities would end.
There was a line of horses ahead of them.
The ones closest were the MacQuaries; Thane and Tamsin, Brian, and Mora, with two guards.
Simone and Artan were ahead of them. And Tristan MacClane approached on the opposite path from the far coast with two men, probably guards who worked for him.
Mora looked back over her shoulder. “Greetings to you, Rankins. Eva, you look so happy. Married life suits you. And Sheona, how is the new bairn of Marta’s? And what did she name the wee lassie? Does she sleep at night yet?”
As usual, Sheona knew enough to wait until Mora finished asking all her questions before she answered. It suited her fine because then she could choose which question and conversation to have. “She named her Margret Ailis.”
“After your mother? Is that not the sweetest ever? I cannot wait to meet the lass. Brian, will you take me to Rankin land so we can pay our respects to the lass soon? I’ll make her something new to wear.”
Dermot ignored Mora and shouted, “Brian, are you betrothed yet?”
Brian swung his head around to face Dermot, a slight scowl on his face. “Nay, I’m not. Have you a suggestion? Is there a reason you ask?”
Sheona blushed the shade of the darkest apple in autumn. “Da, please.”
“Sheona isn’t betrothed yet either. Mayhap you should have a chat with her tonight.”
Brian nearly smirked when he looked at Sheona, but she mouthed the word, “Sorry.”
“I’ll make sure to come and find Sheona later, Chief.” Then he smiled and urged his mount forward since the line had moved along.
That gave Sheona time to turn around and glare at her sire. “Da, could you please not be so obvious? Don’t ask them. I’ll make a point of talking to them this eve. And promise me you won’t follow me around. Sloan, may I please walk around on my own? Or with Mora?”
“Aye, I trust you inside the castle walls, Sheona. Not outside,” he said with a smile. “Please enjoy yourself.”
“I will. My thanks to you.”
“But in order for the lass to do that, Da, you have to leave her be. You’ll not be bothering Sheona this eve. We’ll chat on the morrow,” Sloan said.
Their father didn’t look at her brother but stared straight ahead. Sheona noticed he’d dressed up in his finest leine and plaid this eve, even trimmed his beard and combed his hair. Her father had been a handsome man in his day. “Fine. I’ll find my own entertainment.”
Sheona wore her favorite gown, the dark blue one with green ribbons that matched the ones in her hair. She wore trews under her gown, though she made sure her sire never saw them. He’d forbidden her long ago to wear them, though she still snuck into them when she could.
Sloan wore his nicer plaid too. Eva was, of course, beautiful and wore a dark purple gown.
The two together made a striking couple.
“They’ll probably need you to check their brew, Da.
I’m sure there will be many samples. You know Logan and Connor will have them and so will Drew, if he’s still here. ”
“You’re right. And I brought my own wee sample for later.”
Sheona sighed with relief. Sloan always knew how to distract their father.
After all that had happened with their brother Rinaldo, she had to give Sloan credit.
Their father had always favored Rinaldo, but he’d turned out to be a lying, conniving man, and their father had disowned him before killing him with his own sword.
Sheona hated Rinaldo.
She’d always wished to ask Sloan if their father had ever apologized to him over favoring Rinaldo, but she never had the courage.
As they approached the gates, her father moved his horse ahead of theirs, announcing himself at the gate. “Chief Rankin. I’m coming in. I have a new cask of my brew for Logan Ramsay.”
Broc waved him inside, standing next to another guard who looked like him, but with lighter hair. “Hagen, help Lady Rankin down and take her horse for her.”
The place was busy, but the blond, blue-eyed guard came forward, leading her horse away from the crowd. “Here, I’ll take you over here, my lady. Then I’ll help you.”
“My thanks,” she replied, noticing that her father was already inside the keep and Sloan was helping Eva down while chatting with Derric over their earlier hunt.
“I don’t recognize you. Who are you related to?” she asked, surprised at her own boldness.
“I’m Hagen. First son to Connor and Sela Grant. Dyna is my sister. And you are Lady Rankin, but I didn’t hear your given name.”
“Sheona.”
“Married to?”
“Not married,” she said, amazed at her own shyness. “You?”
“Nay. I’m still looking.” He hooked her horse on a post, then helped her down, his hands slipping around her waist as he lifted her as though she weighed no more than a handful of beach sand.
She landed without the least bit of grace, and he grimaced. “Sorry, I’m a bit new at this. There aren’t many Grant lasses who would allow me to help them down. If I tried to help my sister, she’d put a boot in my teeth.” He wiggled one tooth and said, “She did once, but my tooth recovered.”
Sheona laughed, gripping his arm until she steadied herself on the uneven ground. Her gaze locked on his, and the blue in his eyes was so deep that it mesmerized her, the silver flecks dancing in the newly lit torchlights as darkness began to fall. “My thanks to you. You did a fine job, Hagen.”
“I hope to see you inside, Sheona Rankin.”
She smiled and said, “I would like that.”
Eva appeared at her side, “Greetings to you, Hagen. It looks to be a lovely gathering. The night is accommodating.”
Hagen said, “It is. At your service, ladies. Anything else I can do for you?”
Sheona shook her head and Eva said, “Not at the moment. Mayhap later.”
Sheona pushed her elbow into Eva’s side.
“Then I’ll take care of your horse. Enjoy the party!”
And Hagen was off.
Eva said, “Sheona, you like him?”
She shrugged. “I guess. As much as anyone, but I hardly know him. However, he is cute.”
“True. We’ll have to find him later. Come, your brother is hungry.”
Sheona said, “Sloan, you don’t have to stick next to me all night. I’ll make my way around the hall. I know many who I can chat with.”
“Fair enough. If you change your mind, we won’t be far.”
Sheona made her way inside, looking at all the people, hoping to see someone to chat with.
The hall looked magnificent with autumn colors everywhere.
Red and purple flowers decorated the tables, and boughs with orange and red leaves hung over the hearth.
The first thing she did was move over to the hearth to greet Meg, who was chatting with Merryn.
But as soon as she turned, she nearly ran into someone.
A man with Shealee on his shoulders nearly knocked her down, but she was caught by another man who came up from behind her. “Paden, do be careful. You nearly knocked this beautiful lass on her sweet … I mean, knocked her down.”
Shealee giggled as Paden lifted her, then swung her like he was about to settle her in a tall tree before he set her on the ground. “Go see Mama. I must apologize for my rudeness, lassie.”
Sheona said, “Nay, it was my fault. I wasn’t paying attention. I was too busy looking to see who was here.”
The other person came from behind, his hands still at her waist, and said, “I saved you from my cousin. He’ll knock anyone down. I’m Jowell and this is Paden.” He dropped his hands as he moved to one side, knocking his cousin out of the way.
Sheona stared at the two men, her gaze going from one handsome face to the other. What did they feed the lads on Grant land? “And which Grants do you belong to? I’m trying to learn all the names, but there are many of you.”
Jowell laughed. “I’m Alaric’s brother. Jamie and Gracie are our parents. And this is Paden, brother to Broc, whose parents are Kyla Grant and Finlay MacNicol.”
And the two then had their fun with her.
Jowell said, “I’m the best-looking. We often argue between the three of us—me, Hagen, or Paden.”
Paden offered, “I’m the one with the bit of red in my hair, like my sire. That makes me unique and thus the most handsome.”
Jowell glared at his cousin before he spoke. “But I look almost exactly like Alaric, and our mother Gracie was known as the most beautiful lass in all the land. And my hair is much lighter than Alaric’s, more like my mother’s golden-white hair.”
Hagen came up from behind them. “Do not listen to them, Sheona. I’m the best-looking. My mother Sela had the reputation as the queen of Inverness because of her beauty. And my sire, well, everyone knows he looks just like our grandfather, Alex Grant.”
“Is Alex grandfather to all of you?” she asked.
“Aye,” the three barked in unison.
She giggled, watching the young lads try to outdo each other.
“He did like me best.”
“I was his favorite. Surely you all know that.”
“Is that why he always came to me first?”
Sheona was thoroughly entertained by their banter.
“And he thought me the best swordsman.”
“Nay, I was the best back then. Connor is my sire, after all.”