Chapter 15 #2
Alaina nodded, swallowing hard. “Nobody talks to me about this either, ye ken. But I ken Ryder, and I ken how he thinks. He thinks bein’ a Laird brings danger to the people ye care about.
Maybe he’s right. The old laird—me faither—married me maither a while later.
I always remembered us being one big, happy family.
I never even kent that Ryder had a different maither until I was much older. ”
“What happened to yer maither?”
A twinge of pain crossed Alaina’s face, but she forced a shrug.
“Oh, nothin’ good. After Father died, Ma sort of… she crumbled, I suppose. Marriage to Laird MacCulloch didnae do either of them any good.”
“What a tragedy,” Megan murmured, a lump forming in her throat.
“Ryder’s wrong, though. About love. Is he nae?
” Alaina continued, her brow furrowing. “He thinks that love is a waste of time. He calls marriage a complication. He’s shouted down every council member who suggested that he should marry, and none of them even dares to venture the suggestion anymore.
He’s never said it, but I ken that he thinks that love is bad.
Poison. But he’s wrong, is he nae? Love isnae bad. It cannae be.”
Megan took a moment before responding.
“What kind of love are ye talkin’ about, Alaina? There are all different types. Yer sister loves ye. Ryder loves his clan. Ye love yer friends. What type of love do ye mean?”
“I mean romantic love.”
“Well, as far as I can tell, me sisters are very happy with their husbands. They’re all in love, and it looks… well, it looks wonderful.”
Alaina nodded eagerly as if she’d had something confirmed in her head.
“See, that is what I think! I think that love is the most important thing in the world, and that ye should take risks for it.”
“What does a wee lassie yer age ken of love?” Megan said, laughing.
Alaina was barely listening. She skipped ahead, turning around to face Megan head-on. Her eyes were bright.
“I ken that ye have to take risks for love,” she said fervently. “Me braither keeps tellin’ me that our lives matter more than anythin’ else, but tell me, Megan, what is life without love?”
Megan blinked, trying to think of something to say in response.
“I didnae expect ye to be so impassioned,” she managed at last.
“How can I nae be impassioned? Ryder is tryin’ to lock me up and keep me away from everythin’, but it’s just because he wants to lock himself up. He’s afraid of gettin’ hurt.”
“I’m nae sure yer braither is afraid of anythin’.”
“Ye said that there were different types of love, aye?” Megan countered. “Well, I say that there are different types of fear, too.”
Megan didn’t have an answer for that. At that moment, the music ended with a flourish. The dancers broke into laughter and applause, some of them doubled over, hands on their knees, trying to catch their breath.
Alaina turned to clap, laughing aloud.
Megan just stood where she was, swallowing hard.
I daenae ken whether to laugh or cry. How can it be that a teenage girl feels so strongly about the very idea of love, more strongly than I’ve ever felt about anythin’ in me life?
Surely that couldn’t be true. Megan wracked her brains, trying to find some evidence, some story to prove to herself that she felt as strongly and vehemently about love as Alaina did.
Nothing came to mind. Love was always a strange, distant concept. She loved her family, of course, but that was different. You couldn’t help that; it just happened. There was only duty and family.
Now I have neither. Me duty is unclear, and me family is gone.
I will have even less at the end of three months, when me job here is finished.
This thought sent a shiver down her spine. She swallowed again, suddenly realizing that her mouth was dry. It was that cursed black bun and its crumbly dryness, that was it.
The dancers began to file off the dancing platform, talking and laughing, still breathless. The fiddler stood in the middle of the platform, wiping sweat from his forehead.
“Lassies and lads, next we’ll have a sword dance!” he exclaimed. “Whoever wants to join in, come on up now!”
Hamish came bustling through the crowd, beaming. There was a red flush on his cheeks, which probably came from cider, or at least ale. He flashed a quick, polite smile at Megan, but his eyes were only for Alaina. Her face lit up when she saw him, and Megan’s chest constricted.
“Will ye watch me?” he whispered, bending down to look in Alaina’s face. “It’s a competition, this one. I daenae ken what the prize is. A barrel of ale, maybe. Ye must watch me and bring me luck!”
Alaina beamed. “Aye, of course!”
“Then off we go!”
He unceremoniously heaved her up into the air, swinging her over his shoulder. Alaina shrieked with delight, not bothering even to pretend to struggle.
“I will see ye soon, Lady Megan!” he called, flashing her a quick grin, and set off at a brisk trot toward the dancing platform, where other men and a few women of all different ages were already gathering.
Megan folded her arms, biting back a smile.
“Well,” she mumbled aloud, “I think it’s fair to say that there’s a good reason for Alaina’s strong opinions on love.”
It wasn’t love, though. Not proper love. Surely it was just infatuation, or something that Ma used to call “young love”.
But then, Megan thought, her face creasing into a frown, how would I ken? I’ve never experienced either.
Hamish seemed to be a decent young man, bright-eyed, enthusiastic, and probably pretty good-looking to a girl of Alaina’s age. She supposed that they were awkward around each other in the Keep, and only out here, away from Ryder’s ever-present glare, could they be themselves.
Would Ryder approve of Hamish? Almost certainly not.
I should say somethin’ to her, Megan thought, with a flutter of regret. I willnae betray her, of course, but this cannae last. It cannae!
She wouldn’t say anything now, though. The music began, and the dancers started to skip around the platform, their heels drumming on the wooden boards to create an echoing sound like thunder. Alaina stood a little way away, her back turned to Megan, her attention fixed solely on Hamish.
I’ll say somethin’, but nae now. Nae today, Megan decided.
Then somebody cleared their throat right next to her ear. Before she could react in any way, a low, menacing voice spoke.
“And what in God’s name do ye think ye are doin’ out here, me sweet wee bride?”