Chapter 7
Collette brushed Cairren’s hair as they sat before the fire in Cairren’s chamber.
They’d spent the day with Innes away from the keep and away from the Munros.
Innes and Collette had lain awake late into the night, both fretting about the future they’d unwittingly forced Cairren into.
They’d finally agreed they would insist on a handfasting instead of a regular marriage.
They would gladly forfeit all of Cairren’s dowry if it meant she could return home in a year and a day if she were miserable.
After they broke their fast, Innes pulled Micheil aside to discuss the desired change in plans.
Cairren hadn’t understood why the conversation appeared heated in the beginning, but Micheil’s expression turned from enraged to smug as the two lairds returned to the dais.
He cast her a priggish smile that made Cairren go cold and desperate to learn the newest development.
Her parents' news stunned her, but she confessed it was a great relief to know that there was a possibility that she wouldn’t be sentenced to a lifetime with the Munros.
After three years as a lady-in-waiting, she was confident she could endure a year in the Highlands.
She wondered how much more relieved Padraig would be than her when he learned the news.
If it was only for a year, she found she didn’t care what Padraig did or with whom he did it.
She would gladly turn a blind eye and let Myrna have him.
With a lighter heart, Cairren enjoyed her family’s trip to the loch.
They picnicked and even swam together. She’d grown up swimming in the frigid waters and rough currents of the Irish Sea and the Firth of Clyde.
As she dove and turned in the warm summer water, Innes teased her.
“You’re still more seal than woman,” Innes chuckled, then spluttered as Cairren splashed water in his face.
“Catch me if you can,” she called before diving below the surface.
He easily caught his daughter’s ankle and reeled her back in before lifting her overhead and tossing her just as he had when she was a child.
She hooted as she sailed through the air and emerged giggling, as though she hadn’t a care in the world.
And for the brief time the trio spent together that afternoon, Cairren could pretend that she had none.
But now she sat with Collette, freshly bathed as her mother wove the flowers into her hair that they’d picked the day before.
She was scrubbed clean, and as her chemise brushed against her skin, her body felt sleek from the waxing they’d performed the night before.
At four-and-ten, Collette taught Cairren how to use honey to remove the hair from her mons.
At the time, the anticipated pain terrified her, and it shocked her that her mother would propose something so indecent, but she soon preferred the feel.
She hadn’t enjoyed the luxury frequently at court, but she waxed often enough to keep from being miserable each time she did.
“Maman, are you certain being smooth won’t repulse Padraig? Won’t he think he’s bedding a child? This isn’t something any Scottish mon expects, or at least none that aren’t courtiers. What if he rejects me?” Even more.
“Ma petite-fille, I can almost certainly agree that he will never have seen the like, but I can also promise that it will intrigue him more than you suspect. You will feel different from any of the women in his past, and it will surely increase his pleasure. As long as you remember what I said about not lying there like a dead fish and at the least pretend to enjoy his attention, he will return to your bed.”
“But what if I only want this one night? I can’t risk getting with child if I intend to repudiate the handfast.”
"Mon cher ceour.” My dear heart, Collette sighed.
“Don’t go into this assuming it will end.
You will make yourself even more miserable if you do naught but count down the days.
Approach this with the open mind and open heart you bring to all things.
If you close yourself off to the mere chance you might find happiness here, no one will accept you.
People will be able to tell. They’ll sense that sentiment, even if you never speak aloud your intentions. ”
“But, Maman, now that Padraig and Myrna must know it’s only a handfast, they’ll be even more resolute to marry. What’s keeping them from speaking of their marriage or their wedding plans in front of me? I really will be just a chest of gold to them. How can I not look forward to the end?”
“Chaque chose en son temps,” Collette reminded Cairren.
While Cairren knew the words meant each thing in its own time, she understood her mother meant not to worry until there was reason to.
But Collette hadn’t been standing outside while Cairren and Padraig kissed.
She hadn’t experienced the light-headed feeling that engulfed Cairren as Padraig kissed her and his hands roamed over her.
She’d been able to forget who they were and why their match was a disaster.
Or at least she had until she realized that he was thinking about Myrna rather than her.
Then the bliss crumbled, and the hurt returned.
She replayed the kiss over and over, convinced Padraig must have been imagining he was kissing Myrna to offer her such passion.
The rejection stung, even if she reminded herself that she never should have expected more.
She once again dreaded climbing into bed beside Padraig, fearful that he would always be fooling himself into thinking it was Myrna rather than Cairren he coupled with.
“Oui, Maman. Je sais.” Cairren might know what Collette meant and even agreed, but it didn’t make it any easier. Collette patted Cairren’s hair into place one last time, and Cairren had to admit that her coiffure exceeded even the most beautiful she’d seen at court. “C’est tres joli. Merci, Maman.”
It was very pretty, and she was thankful, but she knew they would judge her appearance not by her hair, but what people had already decided was the truth about Cairren.
She sighed but twisted to view the entire hairstyle in the looking glass.
Her mother had fashioned a circlet from a braid before nestling a gold circlet within the circle of the plait.
Collette banded the hair that remained hanging down Cairren’s back every few inches with brightly colored ribbons that complimented her pale blue gown.
The gown was more conservative than the ones Cairren wore at court.
It was even conservative compared to most of the ones she wore at home, but it created a stunning effect.
Cairren had designed it to cover as much of her as possible, but the fabric draped around her like a second skin.
The high neckline accentuated her breasts without hinting at the skin that lay beneath.
Collette understood the intrigue it would create in men, but she’d said nothing to Cairren, knowing her daughter’s intent was to decrease attention to her body.
Collette’s gentle smile played at the corners of her mouth as she watched Cairren don the kirtle.
The embroidery around the collar drew the eye to Cairren’s swan-like neck and defined jawline.
Her face was rounded and soft, each feature dainty.
The embroidery at the waist resembled a girdle, but a vee rested at the center, pointing to the place Collette was certain Padraig would enjoy discovering.
The full skirts shimmered each time Cairren moved, and the overly long sleeves were looser than what was à la mode, but they made each of her arms’ movements elegant.
A knock at the door sounded as Cairren took a deep breath, steeling herself for what came next.
She knew it was Innes coming to escort mother and daughter to the kirk.
Collette opened the door, and Innes’s face immediately shone with pride.
He stepped inside Cairren’s chamber and held out his hands, which Cairren eagerly took.
His massive hands dwarfed hers, but their difference in size had always made Cairren feel safe.
She’d had a brief sense of that when Padraig held her the night before—before it all came crashing down.
“My wee lassie, you are the bonniest sight this side of the Cairngorms. You’re radiant, and I have never been prouder to be your papa.
” Innes blinked several times, and Cairren saw the wetness in his eyes.
“You’re hardly a wean anymore, but you will always be my wee lassie.
Remember that always.” Innes pulled Cairren into his embrace and tucked her against his chest, careful not to muss her hair.
“Thank you, Papa. I will happily remain your little lass forever.” Cairren strained to kiss the bristles that ran along Innes’s jaw, his beard having tickled her since she was a child. Innes shifted his attention to Collette, and she stepped forward as Innes wrapped one arm around each of them.
“I am the luckiest mon alive. God has blessed me with a wife and daughters I love with all my heart.” Innes’s words sparked regret in Cairren that Caitlyn wasn’t there beside her.
They’d been the best of friends their entire lives, and it had felt like Cairren lost a limb when she went to court.
The phantom pains she’d felt returned as her arms tingled to hug her sister.