Chapter Fifteen
Taskill
What the hell was wrong with him? What exactly did he want from Sheona?
Since when had these new feelings emerged?
“Can’t seem to make up your own mind, can you, fool?” Taskill muttered to himself. “You want to protect her, then you don’t care. You don’t want her for yourself, but you don’t want anyone else to have her. Which is it?”
He pulled his net in and found two nice-sized pollacks among the smaller fish and tossed both in the bucket. His insides were reacting to Clyde’s bold suggestion of pursuing the lass. He was certain that was all it was.
He didn’t love Sheona. The thought had never occurred to him before. It didn’t fit. They’d been friends forever. Playmates long ago. Jumped in the same lake, played warriors against the pirates on the coastline.
He recalled that day vividly. The weather finally had been warm enough to allow them to swim.
He’d been paddling about in the sound with Sloan and Lennox.
Sloan had said that Marta didn’t wish to swim anymore because of the fish.
Eva had stayed home. And Sheona came running down the path in a new swimming outfit.
Sloan and Lennox jumped off the boulder into the water, bellowing about making the biggest splash, just as Sheona came along.
Taskill had been swimming when Sheona called his name, her voice bright with laughter as she always was back then. He turned, treading water, ready to splash her the moment she dove in—
And froze.
She stood on the bank, unlacing her overdress, the afternoon sun turning her damp hair to copper fire. When had she grown curves like that? When had the gangly girl he’d known since childhood become... this?
Heat flooded through him, swift and unwelcome. No. Not Sheona. Anyone but her.
“Are you coming in or not?” she called, oblivious.
He couldn’t answer. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t stop staring at the way her wet chemise clung—
“Sheona Rankin!” Her mother’s voice rang out like a thunderclap. “Get out of that water this instant! You’re too old for this foolishness.”
The joy drained from Sheona’s face. She looked at him, pleading silently for him to argue, to defend their tradition, to tell her mother she was wrong.
But Taskill said nothing. Because her mother was right. Sheona was too old to swim with him now. Too beautiful. Too dangerous to his peace of mind.
And he was too broken to deserve her.
When she climbed out, shivering and hurt, she’d looked back once. He’d forced himself to turn away.
He’d been turning away ever since.
And now Dermot wanted him to marry her? To take the one pure, bright thing in his life and destroy it with his damaged soul? Nay, he couldn’t do it. She deserved better. He’d hid his feelings for her for five years, so much that they changed.
He’d become protective. That’s how he felt toward Sheona. He’d not allow anyone to touch her, of that much he was certain. He would always protect Sheona.
Sloan approached, pulling him out of his memories. Glancing into his full bucket, he chuckled. “You going to keep fishing, Taskill, until there are no more in the sound? Your net has proven its worth.”
Taskill frowned and peered into the bucket. “I guess I have enough. Want a few for stew?”
“I’ll take a few, if you don’t mind. I’ll leave the two cod with you. I’m happy with pollack.” He grabbed an empty bucket and chose a few fish and dropped them inside. “You must be preoccupied. Something you wish to talk about?”
“I feel bad for Sheona. What a show your father put on for everyone. She was so embarrassed.”
“She was. Unfortunately, there’s been too much going on in our clan, so our father ignored her for a long time.
The truth is that with Mama passing, then Rinaldo, my wedding, Marta’s new bairn, all the battles, he’s had no time for Sheona.
Now he’s found the time. When my father gets an idea in his head, he doesn’t let it go, as you know. ”
“I do. If I were ready, I’d accept his proposal.”
“Taskill, I’m all right with my sister not being a good suit for you. But it’s time for you to think on marriage. It’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Lennox feels the same. Consider it.”
“Do you have someone in mind besides your sister?”
“Nay, I don’t. Choose your own.”
Taskill decided to ask the question foremost in his mind. “Clyde said your sire took her to the nunnery. ‘Struth?”
“I’m afraid so. Da has returned, said he’d leave her there for a sennight, then go back later for her. But he’s more upset than I’ve ever seen him. I don’t know exactly what happened, but he’s not the same.”
That caught Taskill’s attention. “What do you mean?” If anything happened to Sheona, he’d not be happy, no matter what it was.
Sloan glanced over his shoulder to make sure no one else could hear their conversation. “I’m not sure, but he went straight to his chamber, then came out, grabbed a big goblet of his brew, and went up to the parapets. I thought I’d give him some time before I approached him for an explanation.”
“Probably guilt for picking on poor Sheona so much.”
“Could be so. I’ll find out. Da doesn’t hide much, as you know. My thanks for the fish. I’ll take it to Cook. I can’t wait.”
Taskill pulled his net out of the water, set his fresh catch in the bucket, and packed up. Perhaps Sloan was right. He’d never seen Sloan or Lennox so happy. Was it his time?
But he had the sudden urge to go to the Isle of Iona and rescue a lass who shouldn’t be a nun.