Page 1 of Bride Takes a Charmer
Chapter One
Blarmacfoldach, Inverness
Highlands, Scotland
Late December 1259
The coming newyear offered everyone the possibility of prosperity. With good fortune being prayed for and the rituals enacted for the coming year’s goodwill, Lady Sorsha should have joined the faithful in their pleas. But she wasn’t superstitious and considered the appeals and omens absurd. Life would unfold as it would regardless of prayers or faithfulness. If only she knew what awaited her, she might have spent an hour or two on her knees like the others. Instead, she found the sights in the village quite comical and entertaining.
Winter had taken a respite, for the day was pleasant with only a few clouds to blemish the bright blue heavens and a slight chill. The Yule festival took place in the village of Blarmacfoldach with its thatched-roofed, white-washed cottages and busy lane. Almost every clan in the area attended the festival except for those whose rivalries were too ingrained to allow them to join in the celebrations.
Most clans tended to stay in groups with their brethren and kept to themselves. Some clans knelt on the sacred ground outside the kirk in deep prayer, some raised their cups inslàinteto offer their appreciation for God’s goodwill, and some sang songs of sorrow, forgiveness, and devotion. The sights, sounds,and smells engulfed her senses and brought a wide smile to her face. Now, Sorsha held the small hand of her daughter, Gillian, and delighted in the revelry around her.
She walked on the lane, past the tents and carts decorated with colorful banners and pennons. How she wished her husband, Rodick, had come with them for their daughter’s sake. Alas, he was too busy and couldn’t get away. He rarely spent time with her or their daughter but that suited her well because Sorsha cared not for his company.
She did her duty as the laird’s wife and did her best to please him. Rodick wasn’t a loving husband but he cared for her in his way by offering shelter and protection. In return, she performed her wifely duties with no objections. She hadn’t wanted to marry Rodick but she was given no choice. Her parents had made a treaty with Clan Chattan and her hand was included in the alliance. At the time, she was devastated to marry the unknown, staid man, whose lands were far from her home. Yet in the years that she’d been with Rodick, her feelings had grown to acceptance.
With the return of the sun, the days began to grow longer. Fires lit that night signified everyone’s jubilation as they commemorated the dead by offering sacrifices for fertility, the harvest in the coming year, and the ideals of rebirth. An uneasiness came when she spotted men nearby who had drunk to excess and were now drunk. Most sipped mulled wine or wassail, the warm concoction that brought on good cheer with songs sung. Others gorged themselves with meat and other foodstuffs. All were in a mirthful mood since work was put aside and even most quarrels were forgiven for the short time during Yule to keep holy.
Sorsha shared the cup of mead she’d purchased at the brewer’s tent by handing it to Gillian. Her daughter took a smallsip. “’Tis awful,” her daughter said and used her tongue to try to rid herself of the taste.
Two men shoved each other, fell to the ground, and landed in a leftover puddle from the prior day’s rain. A splash of the filthy water splattered her and Gillian. Sorsha gasped soundly and yanked Gillian back, and showed her displeasure by scoffing at them. They paid her no heed though and continued to wrestle on the ground. She gripped her daughter’s shoulders, guided her around the ruffians, and hurried away.
“I agree, this is foul-tasting.” When her daughter handed the cup back, Sorsha poured its contents on the ground and set the cup on an empty table nearby. “Oh, look, bun, there is a soothsayer here.” Sorsha smiled lightly when her daughter narrowed her eyes at her for calling her the silly name. She likened her daughter to the squirrel in Gillian’s favorite verse that she’d told her each night at bedtime.
It somewhat saddened her that the meaning of the story was lost on her daughter. She hoped to convey that every person and creature was important, that all were useful, and that no one was smaller than anyone. The endearment didn’t gain a smile from her sweet lass. Instead, her daughter peered ahead with an unamused gaze on her face.
“Shall we go and find out what our future holds?” Sorsha pressed a gentle hand over her daughter’s brown hair that hung below her shoulders. She laughed when her daughter scrunched her small face and added a pout.
“Do we have to, Mama? They are all tricksters. ’Tis all falsity. Lister told me so.”
Sorsha wished her daughter wouldn’t take life so seriously or listen to the stable lad, Lister. Gillian was the most serious child she’d ever beheld. Only five summers in age, her daughter found no enjoyment in life. That her sweet Gillian didn’t smile or laugh or even play as the other children did within their clanoften concerned her. But her daughter was too clever and didn’t appreciate humor or revelry.
“Come along and let us have a wee bit of fun.” She tugged Gillian’s hand and entered the fortune teller’s tent.
The inside was dark except for a lone candle that sat on the table. “Och, milady, have ye come to seek your destiny?” The seer was thin-bodied with long, curly black hair covered with a kerchief tied at her nape. She waved them onward and her wrinkled face welcomed them with a smile.
Sorsha sat in the chair at the cloth-covered table and nodded. “Aye, I would like you to tell me what my future holds, madam.”
Gillian stood by her side and peered at the woman with a blank expression. She said nothing and appeared disinterested. But Sorsha always adored getting her fortune told at festivals and gatherings. She thought it entertaining because most often the teller got it wrong. Not once had the seers told her one thing that had come true.
“I shall tell ye your destiny. Do ye have payment, milady?”
Sorsha removed a coin from her overdress seam and slid it across the fabric of the tabletop with her finger. “What say you? Does my future behold greatness or shall I despair?” She wanted to laugh but with her daughter’s serious mien, she kept her voice devoid of mirth.
The seer reached behind her, took a thick candle from the sideboard, and set it in a pot atop a small fire on the ground near her. While the seer awaited the melting of the candle, she took her hand and peered at it. With Sorcha’s palm face up, the woman traced her finger along the lines of her skin and it tickled.
When the candle completely melted, the seer poured the melted wax into a crudely made glass bowl. The wax’s motions in the water were supposed to foretell what would transpire in her life as shapes formed. Sorsha was enthralled by the carromancy ceremony and watched the mesmerizing movement of thecandlewax floating in the water. The formation of the wax was beautiful, but she smiled to herself knowing that the resulting shapes alluded to nothing—not her past, future, or any essence of her life. They were just clumps of wax moving gracefully in the water.
“Hmm.” The fortune teller straightened and peered into a round-shaped glass orb that sat upon the cloth of the table. “This is…interesting. Your life is about to change direction, milady.”
“What do you read?” Sorsha shifted closer to the table and tried to keep herself from laughing outwardly.
“’Tis darkness but also light. Something dreadful will happen before this day is through. I must use another method to reason it.” The seer unfolded a deck of cards from a tattered, worn cloth and muttered to herself. After fanning them on the table, she chose a card and said, “Ah, the six-of-cups card. Do not despair, Milady, for ye shall rekindle a relationship with someone from your past.” The seer glanced at Gillian and smiled.
Sorsha pursed her lips at the absurdity because she could think of no one she would be reunited with. “What relationship do you speak of?”
The fortune teller clucked her tongue and sat back. “Och, ’tis gone.” She raised her hands as if it eluded her. “I am sorry, Milady, but I cannot answer your question. All I can offer is that you take heed for there is some unpleasantness afoot this day for ye. Ultimately, ye will be reunited with someone from your past.”