Chapter 3
Sorcha tugged on the bodice of her gown, wishing she had taken the shawl that lay across her bed to the great hall with her. The bodice had not been laced properly and was pushing her breasts nearly out of the square neckline. One good bend, and she would have them out for everyone to see.
Sighing, she took one of the tankards from the table and drank deeply, letting the ale coat her tongue.
Tonight, there was a visitor from another clan in attendance, prompting her sister to hold a formal dinner in the great hall.
The elders would be in attendance as well as some of the members of Tavin’s council for the Stuart clan.
As much as Sorcha wanted to be riding her horse through the moors again, she was stuck at a dinner, wearing a ridiculous gown that would cause more commotion than she wished.
“Ye look lovely.”
Sorcha turned to find her sister bearing down on her, Logan at her hip. “As do ye.” Moira was wearing the dress that had both clan tartans interwoven into the skirts, showing her allegiance as both the lady of the keep and the wife of a laird. How her sister did it sometimes was beyond Sorcha.
“I know this is not something ye enjoy,” Moira continued, as Logan tugged on her curls, “but it’s for our clan, Sorcha.”
“I know,” Sorcha sighed. “I just wish we could do it in breeks.”
Moira shook her head as the door opened, bringing the cold weather in with it. The air had turned bitterly cold, with the threat of ice and snow heavy in the air. Once that happened, their great hall would be overrun with those villagers that could not survive a bitter winter.
It was a feat that her sister took on with relish, and Sorcha did enjoy keeping the villagers’ company during that time. The keep seemed to come alive, and she learned great stories from those that came to stay.
Right now, however, she was looking for this night to end quickly.
There was an unfamiliar man that was at the end of the party, his greatcoat swallowing his frame. “May I take that for ye?” Sorcha asked as he approached her.
“Mah thanks, lass,” he responded, his blue eyes twinkling as he handed over the coat. “’Tis bitterly cold out there for a man up in years.”
Sorcha folded the coat and put it away, gesturing toward the roaring fire. “Why don’t ye warm yerself then? I can get ye a tankard of ale.”
His smile broadened. “Aye, but only if ye will join me.”
Sorcha forced a smile. “Of course.” Her sister would be so proud that she was entertaining a guest.
After grabbing the tankard, she made her way to the fireplace, where the older Scot had settled into one of the chairs.
“Thank ye, lass,” he said as he took the tankard. “This fireplace reminds me of mah home.”
“Are ye laird?” she asked, curious.
He chuckled. “Nay. Mah nephew is. Stubborn boy, he is. I come tae bring word from our clan instead of him. He’s busy being a warrior and not a laird.”
A laird with no qualms to be one. Was this what she was looking for? “Is he wed?”
The older man looked over at her, arching a brow. “Why, lass? Are ye in the market for a husband?”
Sorcha lifted her chin. “Perhaps, but I have only means for a partnership, not a love match.”
He eyed her. “And what do ye bring tae the marriage?”
The question she dreaded answering. “Companionship, loyalty.”
“Ah,” the visitor stated before taking a sip of his ale. “Ye wish not tae fall in love.”
“I wish for mah marriage tae be understood from the beginning,” she answered after a moment. “I am the third sister, not one that normally gets tae choose her husband. I want mah own clan.”
The visitor stuck out his hand. “I’m Sheamus, of Clan McCullam.”
“Sorcha,” she stated, shaking it firmly. “Of Clan McPherson.”
“Do ye mean what ye say, lass?” he asked, releasing her hand. “About the marriage business?”
Sorcha nodded, her heart beating in her chest. Was this the answer she had been looking for? “Are ye speaking of yer nephew?”
The older man sighed. “He has an aversion tae marriage for his own reasons, but he knows he needs a wife. Someone like ye could be what he needs.”
“What sort of man is he?” she asked, unable to help it. He seemed kind enough, and she imagined a man like him would not have a brute of a nephew.
He cleared his throat. “He’s a warrior, but a fair man. He enjoys being on the battlefield, and I cannae blame him so much for that. No man wants tae sit in a hall and listen tae the plights of his people all day.”
Sorcha thought to when Tavin and Moira had to do that exact thing and how they complained about the long hours in doing so.
Sometimes it was a particularly important dispute, such as land rights, and other times it was because some man had drifted into the bed of another.
Sorcha had watched the proceedings a time or two, finding them tedious.
“And yer clan?” she pressed. “What kind of clan are ye?”
“We are a fair clan,” he stated. “Our fields are plentiful, and our stores stocked well for the winter. The borders have been well defended for years and our coffers are comfortable.”
Much like McPherson. Sorcha tried to tamp down the sudden spurt of excitement she was feeling inside, but it was hard to do so. This was what she wanted, what she had been hoping for, but could she take the next step and pursue it?
“Ye are really considering this, aren’t ye lass?”
Sorcha turned her attention to her visitor. “Aye, if ye think I will be a good fit for yer clan.”
He gave her a great show of looking her up and down. “Ye dinnae look like the sort of woman who is reduced tae tears.”
“Aye,” Sorcha replied softly. “I dinnae cry often.”
“And one who understands the value of hard work,” he continued.
“Aye,” she answered again.
“And one that doesnae need much for herself in terms of a husband.”
Sorcha didn’t know how to answer him. She didn’t need much, nor did she want much from her husband. Mutual understanding or acceptance would be more than enough. “I believe I could be that woman, aye.”
His eyes widened. “Truly?”
She nodded before she could change her mind. This was the marriage she was wanting, and if she didn’t take a chance now, she might not have another. “Aye. I will return with ye tae yer clan and meet yer nephew.”
Later, after the dinner was over, Sorcha sought out her sister, who was rocking an exhausted Ian to sleep in her chambers.
Sorcha allowed herself a moment to soak in the tender scene, her heart tugging at the thought of leaving her sister and the only family she had ever known.
She would miss them terribly, but it was time for her to move forward with her own path and give her sister the benefit of having her own home without Sorcha constantly around.
Moira looked up and gave Sorcha a smile. “Did Tavin send ye up here tae find me?”
“Nay,” Sorcha replied, walking into the lavish chambers. “I’ve come tae discuss something with ye.”
“Alright,” Moira said, patting the bed. “Come, sit. He is nearly asleep.”
Sorcha did as her sister asked, joining her on the bed piled with furs. “Why dinnae ye let the servants do that?”
A tender smile crossed Moira’s face as she touched the downy cheek of her sons with her finger.
“Aye. I could allow them tae do this, but these are the moments I enjoy with mah sons. Soon they will be too big for me tae rock them, tae love on them. They will become warriors like their father and will worry me far too much at night. So, for now, I will rock mah sons while I can.”
Sorcha heard the emotion in her sister’s voice and wondered if her news was going to make her worry even more. However, it was the right thing for her to be doing. She could never marry someone here and become a villager wife, or even a warrior wife.
She wished to be a laird’s wife. “I’m leaving.”
Moira’s mouth rounded in surprise. “What?”
Sorcha clenched her hands together in her lap. “Our visitor, his nephew, needs a wife and I am inclined tae leave with him in two days.”
Moira clamped her mouth shut. “Is this because of the talks we have had? I didnae mean that ye had tae marry so soon.”
“I know,” Sorcha said quickly, not wanting her sister to think she was the reason that Sorcha was leaving. “I’ve been thinking aboot this for some time. It has to be done, after all.”
Moira’s jaw worked before she laid her now-sleeping son beside her, making certain he was covered from the cold. “What do ye know of this man?”
“He’s in need of a wife,” Sorcha replied evenly, “and not for affection purposes.”
Sheamus had explained over dinner that his nephew needed a wife to maintain the airs about him being a laird, and to carry for his clan.
“The clan is worried that he will never wed,” Sheamus had stated, his eyes sad.
“And he prefers tae be on the battlefield. The clan needs someone who is willing tae look out for their best interests, and I am not getting any younger.”
It was the way he had said the words that made her decision final. The clan needed someone to be there, to listen to their plights, and grow them for the future. Her soon-to-be husband only wished to fight on the battlefield.
She could be that person, and when the time came for an heir, Sorcha would do her duty for the sake of the clan. Perhaps they could find some sort of relationship between them, even a friendship.
But never love and affection.
“Well,” her sister finally said, “if this is what ye want, I wilnae stand in yer way, Sorcha. I just, I hoped ye would be here so that we could age together.”
Sorcha reached over and touched her sister’s hand. “This is yer home now. Ye and Tavin need tae start looking at it as such. I am only in the way of yer growing family, Moira, and want mah own keep.”
“I understand,” Moira replied, squeezing her hand. “Is this man trustworthy?”
Sorcha thought about how Sheamus had discussed his nephew so openly, how he wished for his clan to be happy with their laird and the future. This was her moment. This was what she had been waiting for, and she was going to seize the opportunity. “Aye.”
“Then ye have mah blessing,” Moira stated, her eyes wet with tears. “I dinnae want tae lose mah sister, but I do want ye tae be happy. When will I meet him?” “We shall see.”
Sorcha stayed with Moira a few more minutes before she made her way to her own chamber, her mind whirling with new possibilities. She was truly leaving the only keep she had ever known for an unknown future.
A smile crossed her face as she looked about the room that contained her things. She couldn’t take a great deal with her as she would be traveling on Iron, but she would take enough to start her new life. The rest she could come back and get at a later time.
Or her sister could bring it when she hosted her family at her new clan. Satisfied with the evening, Sorcha started to decide what she would take.