Chapter 3
“I
willnae allow it! That is not wot that gathering is for!”
Moira glared at the elder clansmen that were gathered in the great hall, her hands on her hips. She cared not that she was not portraying herself in a manner befitting of the lady of the keep.
She was quite upset at the moment and they were all to blame.
“My lady please,” one of them pleaded, “’tis the perfect opportunity for ye tae find a husband.”
Moira wanted to scream in frustration. When Will had informed her that the clansmen, her council, wished to speak about the upcoming highland gathering, she was excited that they were including her in on the planning.
The highland gathering had given her wonderful memories as a child, even when their da would take them.
She and her sisters had enjoyed everything there was, a brief respite from their home life and a chance to revel in the festivities.
When they had informed her that McPherson had been chosen for the gathering this year, Moira had started plotting what they would offer in terms of entertainment and food.
The gathering had not been on their lands for many years and in less than a week, the land would be teeming with clansmen from all over Scotland.
And she would take her place amongst the lairds, ushering in a new era for their clan.
What she hadn’t anticipated was that the elders wanted to turn the gathering into a marriage hunt for her. “This is a time for our clan to show the others that we can survive without my da,” Moira said, attempting to hold back her temper. “Not find a husband.”
“The only way tae show yer truly wanting tae plan for the future of this clan is tae find a husband,” another stated, his expression sour. “Yer sister has solidified the future of her husband’s clan.”
Fennella had indeed given her husband a son—two so far—but she was also deeply in love with him.
Moira knew whatever Scot they deemed suitable could not hold the same affection.
Whereas Fennella was not a ruler, Moira was the laird of this clan and she had a great deal more at stake than just her maidenhead.
“I wish to have more time,” she stressed, hoping that they would see she was not trying to be difficult.
“I am but in my nineteenth year and healthy. A husband and wee bairns will come in due time.”
“By the end of the winter is the only way I would like tae see it,” another grumbled.
Moira looked at Will, imploring him with her eyes to stop this farce of a discussion but he only shrugged, finding something remarkably interesting in his ale instead.
Why did she have a second-in-command if he was not going to take her side on anything?
“We will invite every clan,” the elder decided, “and hold a special competition for the sons of the lairds. Then our lady can choose who she deems worthy of her hand.”
Moira sighed. It was as if she was not in the room to even hold the discussion nor did they care to hear her opinion on the matter!
“Aye,” the others agreed, grins on their faces as they held up their tankards of ale. “Tae the future of Mcpherson!”
Moira pushed away from the table and walked out of the great hall, not caring if they thought her uncouth for leaving in the midst of their meeting. Why was it so important that she find a husband so soon? It seemed that no one had faith in her abilities to rule without a husband at her side.
Either that or they wanted her husband to take over her seat, to restore what was deemed how it should be amongst their clan.
Moira made her way to her chambers, finding Sorcha waiting for her. Sorcha was her younger sister and since Fennella was not here, her greatest confidant. “Well?” she asked the moment Moira closed the door. “What did they say?”
Moira walked over to the narrow window, overlooking the grounds of the keep. “They want tae use the gathering as a means tae find me a husband.”
“I knew it!” Sorcha exclaimed. “They will not leave ye alone.”
Moira sighed. She loved this clan and everything that they were doing together to overcome what her da had torn apart. Even from her window, she could see the fields that were being replanted, the huts that had been repaired, the people that were milling around the village.
Her people.
Could she do something to find a husband for them? The clan depended on her judgment but also for their survival. Every decision she made affected the people that were out there right now, people who had already been through enough with her da. “I dinnae know what tae do.”
“Och Moira,” Sorcha said softly. “What if ye pick the wrong Scot? Wot if he tries tae take the seat from ye?”
That was Moira’s greatest fear. “I cannae let that happen.”
“I dinnae know how ye can stop it, Sister,” Sorcha stated. “I dinnae know a Scot out there that would let their wife continue tae rule while they stand idly by.”
Moira turned to face her sister. “They are going tae force me to take a husband. I might as well have mah choice in them.”
Sorcha wrinkled her nose. “I dinnae think I will ever wed. I would not want someone like da as mah husband.”
Moira gave her sister a faint smile. “Ye will never have tae worry about me forcing ye tae wed, dear sister.” She cared not if Sorcha decided to take a husband, only that she was happy in all she did.
As the lady of the keep, she had the ability to ensure that her sister was not forced as she was being.
Sorcha stood from her perch on Moira’s bed, crossing the room to wrap her arms around her sister. “Whatever happens, I will be here for ye. We shall find ye a good man, someone that cares for ye and not just yer title.”
Moira returned her sister’s hug. “Perhaps so.” That was all she wished for; a man who saw her for Moira McPherson and not as a leader.
Sorcha pulled away from her sister’s embrace, straightening her tunic. “I’m off tae wield mah sword.”
Amused, Moira crossed her arms over her chest. “How aboot not hurting Will this time? He’s delicate.”
Sorcha snorted. “He should have seen that swing coming. He’s not delicate in the least, just slow.”
Moira laughed as her sister walked out, thinking about the time that Will had complained to her that Sorcha was too forceful in her blows to be such a small woman. It seemed that her sister had some spirit in her after all and was likely going to be trouble the older she got.
Shaking her head, Moira seated herself at her desk and started on her correspondence.
Of her duties as lady, she detested the time she must answer correspondence.
Farming concerns, other lairds wished to extend their sympathies to her clan and offer their support, and cleaning up her da’s mistakes was what she spent her time on.
There were so many things that her da had done, wrong things, that there must be bridges rebuilt to keep her clan from having to go to war.
It was a tedious process, rebuilding her clan’s name as well as proving that she was not the ruler her da had been.
Spying a letter from her sister, Moira eagerly grabbed it up and opened it, a bright spot in her day.
Fennella had been her protector growing up from her da and her brother’s wrath.
Fennella was forever getting herself into a bind with their da and more than once Moira had helped her by covering in her absence so that Fennella could raid her father’s visitors just so that their clan could eat.
When Fennella had found out that their da had wed her to a neighboring clan, Moira feared that she would be next.
Her da had even hinted that he had sold them all off, even with Sorcha only being the tender age of thirteen.
They had lived in fear for months until Fennella had been able to break free under his thumb and truly found the man she loved.
Now her sister and her husband lived happily in their own keep and Moira would be hard-pressed not to say that she wasn’t jealous of her sister’s newfound happiness. She had never seen Fennella be so happy before and could feel that in her sister’s letters.
Pulling out the thick vellum of paper, Moira smiled at her sister’s looping handwriting.
My dearest sister,
I hope these words find you well. I am writing tae ye tae say that Aleck and I will be attending the gathering in support of Clan McPherson.
I am hoping with our support that Clan McPherson will see that ye are a good choice for a leader and that they will never regret giving you the title.
Callum and Ewan are growing like the wheat grows in the field and I cannae believe that they are mah sons.
Mine. I will tell you this, Sister. I know that you will be asked to choose a husband in time, and you must think about it.
I once thought I would never wish to have a husband, but ’tis the best part of my life is mah time with Aleck and mah sons.
I hope that you will be able to share in the happiness that I have found with my family one day and know that I will stand by your side for whatever you choose. Until we see each other again, may you be blessed by the gods.
Moira sighed as she re-read Fennella’s words. She wanted to experience this love that her sister had found with her handsome husband. She wanted to give birth to her bairns and know that they were a product of love and affection and not out of duty.
Most of all, she wanted to be happy. Moira knew that while there were sacrifices to be made as lady of the McPherson clan, she didn’t want to sacrifice her happiness for them.
Was that so wrong? Whatever husband she chose would be the one she would be paired with until the end of her days and if he was not a good match for her, then it would be a miserable life indeed.
And if he wanted her title, her clan...Moira shuddered at the thought.
She could not allow that to happen. Her sister had entrusted her with the fate of their clan, not her husband.
Aleck had helped Moira navigate through some of the things she would encounter, including a lot of cranky Scots that wanted to see her wed.
This was her future and her husband would have to understand that.