Chapter 3
Kyleakin Village, Inner Hebrides
Una Murray sat in the corner of her small sewing school, her needle flying through the delicate silk as she demonstrated the proper technique for split stitch embroidery. Around her, three young women watched with varying degrees of attention.
Catriona, the youngest at eighteen, was actually paying attention, her own needle moving carefully through the practice cloth Una had provided.
Fenella, at twenty-one, was spinning thread absentmindedly while gazing out the window.
Elspeth, the eldest at twenty-two, was openly staring at her own reflection in the polished metal mirror she had propped against her sewing basket.
They were not only Una's pupils but also her somewhat haughty distant cousins, the daughters of her mother's wealthy relations, sent to Kyleakin specifically so Una could teach them the fine needlework skills they would need to impress at King David's court.
"Una," Elspeth said without looking away from her mirror, "how much longer must we continue with this tedious work? My fingers are cramping."
"As long as it takes for ye to master it," Una replied evenly, keeping her voice pleasant despite her irritation. "Split stitch is necessary if ye wish to create floral designs. Every lady at court kens how to do this."
"Every lady at court has servants to do her embroidery," Fenella interrupted, finally tearing her gaze from the window. "That's what our mother says. She says once we're married to wealthy noble men, we'll never have to pick up a needle again."
"Then why are we even here?" Elspeth added, finally setting down the mirror. "If we're going to have servants do it anyway?"
Una counted to five in her head before responding. "Because noble men at court expect their wives to embroider. Good needlework is highly valued amongst the queen's ladies-in-waiting. 'Tis a quality that makes a noblewoman more marriageable."
She hated saying it, hated playing into their shallow ambitions, but it was the only argument that ever worked with her cousins.
"But ye ken the skill well enough, yet remain unwed, and I dinnae see any noble men offering for yer hand in marriage," Elspeth scoffed.
Una tried hard not to flinch at the snide remark.
The words stung because she knew she had no prospect of ever marrying at all, let alone a courtier.
Most men her age found her rather too independent and opinionated for their liking, and there was also the fact that she was dirt poor and born on the wrong side of the blanket.
That took her out of the running for a respectable match entirely.
But having it thrown in her face every day still stung.
Before she could respond, Catriona interceded.
"Haud yer wheesht, Elspeth. Just because ye have nae the skill for needlework does not mean ye have to be horrid to our cousin."
Una could have hugged Catriona for her kindness. She always wondered how Catriona could be related to the other two, for she was altogether too pleasant and even-tempered.
"Thank ye, Cat, but Elspeth speaks true. I am not of noble birth, so despite my skill, I would be a very unsuitable match for a nobleman."
"Una also has no dowry, which would put off even a nobleman with empty pockets," Elspeth smirked.
"Well, I would simply die if I were as poor as ye, Una," Fenella said, making no effort to hide her amusement. "I cannot imagine what it would be like to not be courted by wealthy nobles. Ye dinnae even have a proper home."
Una gritted her teeth but had no intention of showing them how their remarks cut to her core. It was not her fault she had no one to rely on but herself and her skills. It was still honest work.
"I have a home," Una replied, gesturing around the small but tidy cottage. "And I'm dependent on no one but myself, which is more freedom than most."
"Freedom," Elspeth laughed, the sound high and brittle. "Is that what we're calling being a servant now?"
Una's patience was wearing thin. "I earn a respectable living—"
"By sewing other people's fine clothes," Fenella interrupted. "Clothes ye could never wear yerself. 'Tis like being a cook who can only smell the feast but never taste it."
Una's hands stilled on her embroidery. "I have no wish to wear fine clothes. My garments are serviceable enough."
"Really, Una, do ye never wish for more? For a husband and a home where ye dinnae have to work with yer hands?"
"My grandmother worked with her hands," Una replied, her voice cooling. "She was the finest seamstress in three shires. She taught me that skill is its own form of wealth."
Una believed that. She did.
But sometimes, in moments like these, she couldn't help wondering if her cousins were right. If she was simply making the best of a bad situation.
Sensing Una's discomfort, Catriona went on the offensive. "Fenella, did ye ken Alec Roberts is rumored to be engaged to Brighde Gunn?"
Fenella tensed immediately. "Alec? When did ye hear this?"
"At the church assembly last week," Catriona replied with a satisfied smile. "Apparently they have been meeting in secret."
"No! That is a falsehood!" Fenella cried, shooting to her feet.
"'Tis true. I thought it strange, seeing as ye had yer sights set on him."
"He cannot be engaged to her when he and I have been..." Fenella stopped short and blushed.
"Ye have both been doing what?" Catriona asked innocently.
"We have an understanding. He would have told me if he were pledged to Brighde!"
"Then he must be confused, because it was quite clear to all that he was very much in love with Miss Gunn.
Furthermore, her father was boasting that a wedding will follow soon," Catriona replied, taking up her stitching again.
"'Tis a good thing, Fenella, that ye have not been telling people ye and Alec are betrothed, for it would be very embarrassing to be gainsaid so publicly. "
Catriona looked at Una and gave her a sly wink. Una tried hard not to laugh out loud. Despite being the youngest, she suspected Catriona was more lioness than lamb.
Fenella paled and sank back into her seat, staring out the window in silence.
Elspeth merely frowned at proceedings. But the interruption had the effect of returning the room to quiet, and for now, their attacks on Una were diverted.
***
LATER THAT NIGHT, AS Una sat alone by her fireplace with the embroidery resting in her lap, she thought about Fenella and Elspeth's words. Did she want a husband and family?
Una shook her head sharply, banishing the maudlin thoughts.
She had work to do. A commission for the merchant's wife that needed finishing by week's end.
Three yards of silk to embroider for Bella MacKinnon's new gown.
And soon, the summer festival would begin, and her cousins would leave for Edinburgh for three months.
Three months of blessed freedom from their cutting remarks and passive cruelty.
Una allowed herself a small smile at that thought.
Let them go to court. She thought. Let them snare their noble husbands and live their pampered lives. She would be here, in Kyleakin, building a life that belonged to her and no one else.
And for Una Murray, that was more than enough.
***