Chapter 3
Cairren finished scrubbing her face and neck before turning to Laurel.
She eyed her roommate before putting the drying linen aside and pulled on the chemise she preferred to sleep in.
Steeling herself for whatever she would learn, she cleared her throat.
Laurel looked over at her as she combed her hair.
“Why won’t I be welcome at the Munros? Is it because of how I look?” Cairren saw no point in mincing words.
“There’s that,” Laurel glanced back at her before settling in to braid her hair. By silent agreement, both women had dismissed their maids.
“Then what else?”
Laurel lowered her arms and studied Cairren for a long moment before sighing.
“You’ve been a good roommate to me. You tolerated my rudeness to you and your friends yet never had a harsh word to me.
You’re not a gossip, and you don’t spread untruths.
Perhaps I should have appreciated that more.
Cairren, you won’t be welcome because Padraig wants to marry my sister, Myrna.
” Laurel lowered her eyes and shook her head. “They’re in love.”
Cairren sucked in a breath as the room spun. As though her ethnicity wouldn’t be enough of a challenge, she faced a life with a man who would resent her for taking him away from the woman he loved. She was doomed to fail before she arrived.
“Thank you for telling me,” Cairren murmured.
“Be careful, Cairren. My sister isn’t known for her kindness. How she’s fooled Padraig for this long, I can only imagine.”
Cairren closed her eyes as she imagined her faceless groom in bed with a woman who resembled Laurel. She wanted to cry, but she also wanted to heave. “At least I know and won’t walk in blind.”
“I suppose you could look at it that way. Cairren, Laird and Lady Munro have wanted to secure an alliance through marriage with my clan since I was a child. They’ve practically turned down the covers to Padraig’s bed for my sister.
If she had a greater dowry, they would already be married.
But they must need your dowry even more than I thought.
Padraig’s not a cruel mon, but he’s devoted to Myrna.
He won’t welcome you either.” Laurel stood up and tentatively moved toward Cairren.
“I’m sorry to tell you this. But I feel you deserve the warning.
It will be hard enough without adding the humiliation of discovering the truth in front of your new clan.
Hopefully, you can prepare yourself. I suspect Myrna will be there when you arrive.
Padraig won’t have kept this from her, and she’ll want to eye her competition.
” Laurel drew Cairren into an embrace. The women had never shared physical affection before, but Cairren found surprising comfort in Laurel.
“I don’t think I’ll be much competition if Padraig is that in love with your sister. I suspect he’ll do his duty once and then forget aboot me.”
Laurel nodded, but Cairren couldn’t read the emotion in her roommate’s eyes. If she’d had to describe it, Cairren would have said speculative, even hopeful. What Laurel hoped for, Cairren didn’t know.
The morning of Cairren’s departure couldn’t come soon enough.
She’d faced the other ladies-in-waiting the morning after her parents arrived when she joined them for Mass.
She continued to read Thomas Aquinas’s manuscript as the queen requested, but she slipped away from the solar and took her meals in her chamber.
Neither Laurel nor Cairren broached the subject of Padraig and Myrna, but it hung as a leaden weight between them.
Laurel helped Cairren pack and offered her a set of earbobs that Myrna would recognize.
Laurel insisted her sister would know they were a token of friendship and believed it would ease some of the inevitable hostility.
Cairren thanked her, but she suspected Myrna would more likely accuse her of stealing than believe they were a gift.
Cairren said her goodbyes to Queen Elizabeth, who offered her a blessing and a kind word.
Then it was time to leave, and Cairren found herself mounted on her horse with a dozen Kennedy warriors guarding her and her parents as the sun raised its sleepy head over the horizon.
She wished they headed south instead of north, but as the Kennedys passed through the Stirling city gates, Cairren resolved not to think about how much she dreaded their destination or how her homesickness grew with each clop of her horse’s hooves.
A light drizzle seemed like nature’s way of commiserating with Cairren’s feelings, but by midmorning the sun shone, and she found her spirits lifted.
When they made camp the first night, Innes and several of his men went hunting.
One of the men felled a doe, so Cairren worked alongside her mother as they butchered the animal, careful to salt and store the meat so it would last the fifteen-person party for a couple of days.
Cairren relished each moment she had with her parents, even during the less-savory tasks.
She’d never been an avid hunter even though she knew how, but she’d enjoyed spending time with her mother in the kitchens.
Not a noblewoman by birth, Collette grew up in a small cottage where she helped her own mother with cooking and housekeeping.
Collette insisted that Cairren and Caitlyn learn each task needed to run a keep so the sisters would appreciate the labors of servants and to remind them of their great fortune as the laird’s daughters.
Innes often praised his daughters for their humility and willingness to always assist in any task inside or outside of Dunure Castle.
“Be sure you clean all the entrails out and put twice as much salt as you think you need, comprends?”
“Oui, Maman. I understand. I haven’t been away so long that I’ve forgotten,” Cairren grinned.
She looked forward to the roasted venison that would feed them for the first half of their journey.
It made the arduous cross-country trek less intimidating, knowing she would have a full belly rather than the hollowness bannocks and dried beef never really filled.
As she and one of the guardsmen lifted the skewered flank onto the spit, Cairren looked around at the men who traveled with her.
They were men she’d known her entire life; some were childhood friends close to her age, while others were closer to her parents’ ages.
As some of the men sang, Cairren relaxed for the first time since her parents arrived.
Laurel’s warning was ever present, but Cairren was able to push it to the back of her mind.
When the men opted to sip their whisky, Collette dulcet tones eased many into slumber.
“L’autier jost’un sebissa
Trobei pastora mestissa,
de joi e den sen massissa,
Si cum filla de vilana,
Cap’ e gonel’e pelissa,
Vest e camiza treslissa,
Sotlars e caussas de lana.”
Cairren followed along, softly translating each line.
“The other day beside a hedge,
I found a humble shepherdess
Full of joy and good sense
Like the daughter of a peasant girl;
A cape, a coat and fur
She wore, and a shirt of rough cloth, shoes and woolen stockings.”
As more men settled on their bedrolls, Cairren abandoned the English version and sang along with her mother.
By the end of the thirteenth verse, mother and daughter sat with their arms wrapped around one another.
Cairren’s alto was the perfect complement to her mother’s soprano.
They’d sung together since Cairren could speak, with Caitlyn’s voice eventually offering harmony with its mid-range octave.
“I shall miss this, ma petite-fille,” Collette whispered. “But remember when you miss home, Caitlyn and I are singing along with you, even if only in spirit.”
Cairren nodded as she gazed at the twinkling stars and wondered if her sister was doing the same.
She wondered whether Padraig ever stargazed, but the image of a woman who resembled Laurel pushed to the forefront of her mind.
Her thoughts became locked on the notion that Padraig didn’t bother to look at the stars because he preferred to stare at Myrna.
“What is it? Where have you gone?” Collette’s whisper broke through the quagmire that threatened to pull Cairren’s mind under.
“Maman, I learned something from Laurel Ross the night you and Papa arrived.”
“Quoi?”
Cairren looked around the camp at the sleeping men, but even as snores drifted to them, Cairren opted to continue their conversation in French.
“Laurel told me that Padraig has been in love with Laurel’s sister, Myrna, for years and wants to marry her.
Laurel said that if Myrna had a larger dowry, they would already be wed.
She warned me that Myrna would likely be there when we arrived.
Maman, how am I supposed to marry a mon when the woman he loves is watching?
How can I go to a mon’s bed when he wishes I was someone else?
What if he mistakes me in the dark and calls out the wrong name?
I don’t know that I could survive that humiliation. ”
“You can and you would. It breaks my heart to learn you are entering this marriage at such a disadvantage, but you are a woman with much to offer your husband and new clan. And before you say that what you have to offer is a fat dowry, you know that isn’t what I meant.
You will never be able to make everyone like you.
Some may never respect you, but as long as you show everyone kindness and dignity, then most will come around.
I wish I could have promised you a love match like your father and I have, but we know how rare that is.
Try to build an accord with your husband.
Don’t attempt to replace this Myrna but carve out a place where you and Padraig can get along.
Perhaps in time, his feelings will change. ”
“I will try, Maman. Is it wrong that I pray he gets me with child quickly? Then I will have someone to love and who will love me, and I won’t have to share a bed with a mon who doesn’t want to be there.”
“It isn’t wrong, but don’t set all your hopes on that.
It might not happen so easily. Cairren,” Collette paused as she bit her lip.
“I explained to you when your courses came how a man and woman join to make babes. I suspect you’ve learned even more since arriving at court.
Padraig may not love you outside your bedchamber, but if he desires you within your chamber, you may find pleasures of two types.
The obvious is the pleasure your body enjoys.
But the other pleasure is finding a common ground where you can nurture trust. I won’t give you false hope and say satisfying your husband will make him faithful, but it can keep you in his good graces. ”
“I know, Maman. But he may already be bedding Myrna. If he is, then why would he bother to bed me once we’ve made the marriage binding?”
“Then ensure he wants more than one night.”
“How can I do that without coming across as a wanton? How would I know to do those things if not from experience?”
Collette chuckled. “I’m not saying you should perform the acts of a courtesan, but welcome him to your bed. Don’t lie there like a dead fish. Pay attention to what seems to spur him on, and whether or not he arouses you, for God’s sake, make it seem like he is.”
“How do you know this if you and Papa were in love when you married?”
“My mother didn’t love her first husband and could barely tolerate him at first. She had to learn these lessons with no one’s advice.
She made peace with her marriage and made the most of it until he died.
She explained these things to me before I met your father, and they have stuck with me.
It saddens me that I must impart them to you, but I pray they serve you well. ”
“Merci, Maman,” Cairren whispered as she yawned. She slid down her bedroll, and Collette kissed her temple as she drew the plaid over Cairren’s shoulder for what would be one of the last times in either of their lives.
“Fais des beaux rêves.” Make good dreams. It was the phrase Collette had said every night as she tucked her daughters in. And Cairren offered the same response she always did.
“Toi aussi.” You too.