Page 38 of Bride Takes a Charmer
“I hope you do not plan to join them soon.”
Mamo’s eyes lowered. “Every day it is my greatest hope, but alas, here I remain.”
She clutched the old woman’s arm tightly. “And gladdened I am because it would distress Shaw to lose you…and me as well. I have never had a grandmother. Mine passed before I was born.”
“I shall be happy to oblige ye, lass, and will be your mamo.”
“Mamo, that makes my heart happy. Let us return.” She called over her shoulder to the guardsman and said, “Can you take Mamo’s arm too. The ground is treacherous here.” He did as she asked and held onto Mamo’s elbow. As Sorsha traipsed the hilly walk back to the fief, she kept quiet.
“So many are out and about,” Mamo said when they reached the gate.
“The festivities are soon to begin. All are excited.” Sorsha realized the falsehood she’d spoken then because not all were excited. Gillian was far from jubilant about celebrating May Day. Unlike most children, her daughter had never been fond of festivals. If only her daughter would smile and laugh again. If only she would speak to her.
*
The fields wereblessed with the smoke from the peat and the pleas for abundant crops. Many farmers and the families who worked on the land joined the men in celebration by raising their cups to God and in hopeful prosperity. Shaw had left his warm bed and the sweet body of his wife early that morn to attend the duty but he’d wanted to stay put and to perhaps spend more time loving Sorsha. Unfortunately, the important mission called to him and he spent the day preparing for the day’s festivities.
Before they sought the boughs to adorn the doorways and window casements of the fair lasses of their clan, there was much to see to. Shaw always delighted in the rituals and meaning of the Beltane festival. He’d always beheld family andthe birth of bairns as the foremost important responsibility of his clan. One day, his clan would swell in numbers and would rival any of the clans in the north. At least, that was his aspiration.
Shaw sat beneath a copse of trees whose leaves had yet to sprout and the sun shone through its thick branches. He watched those who continued to walk the field with wads of peat, whipping them to and fro and sending smoke over the dry earth. Soon, crops would flourish and bring them sustenance, food for their horses and other animals, and with hope extra coins to add to their coffers.
Walen approached and sat next to him. He tore into a rounded loaf of bread and handed him half. “Ye must be hungry.”
“Aye. I did not eat before I left this morn. My thanks.” He took a bite of the bread and even though it was hard, it tasted good. Shaw washed it down with a chug of ale from a flask he’d retrieved from the satchel that hung by his side. There was only enough to wet his throat and he groused about it. “Bollocks, there’s none left.”
Trey lingered nearby and joined them. He pressed a cup of ale into his hand. “Laird, here, I brought extra ale. Our clan has not been this gleeful for a long time. This night we will celebrate by dancing around the fires. I look forward to the gaiety.”
He chuckled to himself because by then most would have imbibed and the dancing would be rowdy. Shaw lifted his cup. “To ye both for sticking with me and protecting our clan.”
They raised their cups and drank deeply.
“Ye know we have yet to select a May Queen. Perhaps there is someone we can encourage to join us in the song of the Goddess?” Shaw’s question was pointed at Walen but his comrade groaned under his breath.
“Aye, brother,” Trey said with a chuckle. “There is a woman who would make the perfect May Queen and perhaps a Beltane bride?”
Walen scoffed and flapped his hand at them. “What say ye? Cosh, I suspect ye are going to try to get me to admit my feelings for the lass?”
“Do ye not think it is about time ye married? She will not await ye forever, and besides, she is probably the bonniest lass in the Highlands. Ye be a fortunate man to win the heart of that lass.” Trey grinned and took his flask, refilling their cups.
“I beg to differ, Trey, for I married the fairest lass in the Highlands,” Shaw said and tried to sound outraged but it did not affect his comrades.
“Och, ye did, Laird. I meant the fairest lass besides our lady,” Trey quickly supplied.
“Perhaps, Walen, if ye offered to be the May King, Niahm would agree? This night is for coupling with our loves. Will ye not offer her marriage? I fear if ye do not soon, ye will lose her and it would not bode well…” Shaw ceased his speech because he had never pushed his comrade toward marriage before. Still, it was a good thought.
“I have rethought my stance on marriage recently. Niahm is a worthy woman but I am…” Walen took the cup from his brother and drank before continuing, “unsure if I am worthy of her. She is a kindhearted woman and deserves better than me.”
Shaw shoved his shoulder. “Of course, ye are worthy of her. She could do no better because I know no more honorable man than ye, Walen. Ye have been my comrade for a long time and always supported me. Now, I give ye my support. I will tell the priest to make himself ready to perform the sacrament.”
Walen didn’t protest or offer a rebuke. “I suppose, then, I am getting married this night.”
They lifted their cups in congratulatory cheer and sipped at their ale.
Shaw laughed and said, “To the May King, may he reign supreme this night.”
Trey bellowed with laughter and Walen groaned.
“We should get back so ye can propose to your bride,” Trey said and rose.