Page 4 of The Anguish of the Scottish Lairds (Clans of Mull #3)

Eva

Eva leaned over the parapets to watch the activity taking place down near the water. Voices carried so well over the sound that she could hear everything as clearly as though the speakers stood next to her.

“It’s too cold, Lennox,” Meg declared. “I’m not going in.”

Her brother removed his tunic and his plaid, now dressed only in his trews. “You’re going in with me.” Lennox took two steps toward his wife and Meg squealed, running off in the opposite direction.

“Run, Meg!” her sister shouted after her. Tamsin had married Thane MacQuarie and they visited often.

That made spying on the four Eva’s favorite pastime. How she loved watching her serious brother turn into someone completely different, and only because he’d become smitten with Meg and married her quickly. Their antics entertained her more than anything else these days, and the love between Tamsin and Thane gave her hope that someday she’d find her own partner to love. One who would love her for who she was and not what they wished she could be.

Down the bank, she heard a loud scream and an ever louder splash from Lennox lifting Meg and jumping into the sound with his wife. She came up sputtering and pushed his head back underwater, but Lennox tugged her under with him.

The two laughed so much that it made Eva smile.

Tamsin headed toward the two, but Thane rushed along behind her. “Careful, love. There are tree roots sticking up. Don’t trip.”

“Thane, I’m not going to fall into the water. I am much better at swimming than I used to be.”

Eva listened with a twinge of jealousy. Meg had told her that she thought Tamsin might be carrying, but her sister hadn’t said anything yet.

Eva let out a sigh as a golden bird approached, closer than any bird had ever done before. Eva sat up straight, leaning back, and the bird landed on the edge of the parapets, moving across it as if it were king of the isle.

“Greetings to you, mighty bird. Where did you get such bright feathers? I’ve seen many yellow birds, but you are the first golden one I’ve ever seen.”

The bird squawked and pranced a bit, then stopped to stare at her, an eerie feeling creeping up her neck.

“What do you want?” The first word that popped into her mind was marriage. Eva laughed. “I don’t think I can marry a bird, though you are quite regal.”

The bird flew off toward the northwest corner, then returned. Eva had never seen a bird try to communicate with anyone. Was this bird making an attempt to tell her something?

Once it landed again, it lifted its left leg, revealing a scratch down the extremity. “Your leg has a scratch. That must have been painful.”

The bird let out a loud squawk, then took off because footsteps from the staircase carried to them.

Her mother opened the door and asked, “What about a scratched leg? Yours?”

“Nay. A bird. A silly bird that sat on the parapets and stared at me.” She glanced around the area, but the flying creature had disappeared.

“Your father had a deep scratch on his leg.” Her mother stood in the doorway with a stool in her hand. “May I join you?”

“Of course. Would you like my assistance, Mama?”

“Nay, I do it myself all the time. What color was the bird?”

Eva replied, “The oddest color of gold I’ve ever seen. But never mind about the bird. Please join me.”

“What brings you here? Are you spying on your brother?” Her mother tugged her stool across the stones before settling it so she could sit down next to Eva.

“Nay, not spying. They are fun to watch.” She sighed, not able to catch it before her mother heard her.

“Eva, just because the earl was unkind to you does not mean that all men will treat you that way.” Her mother patted her hand. “You will find him. I am confident you will find him in less than six moons.”

“I wish I could believe you, Mother.”

More than anything, she wished to marry, but only to the man her sire had chosen for her. Her dear father had passed on two years ago and left an ache in Eva’s heart forever, but he’d chosen someone for her.

Unfortunately, he’d passed on before he could reveal who he’d chosen to be Eva’s husband. It had haunted her ever since. How would she ever find out?

There was only one way. Her father must have approached the man and arranged the marriage. Eva had to be patient. She would not tolerate another betrothal to someone like the earl.

Surely one day, her perfect partner would arrive on her doorstep to ask for her hand in marriage. Then she’d live happily ever after.

***

Eva crossed her arms and glared at her brother two days later. “Because I’m not ready yet.” What better reason was there to deny a betrothal offer? She wouldn’t discuss the earl because they all knew about what had happened.

“That is a most foolish reason,” Lennox MacVey replied to his sister.

“Do not dare to stand there and tell me who I’ll be marrying, brother dearest,” Eva MacVey said, rising from her chair near the hearth, her arms now by her side. How could he try to do to her what he told their mother she had no right to do with him?

“Eva, you are two and twenty. Past time for a lass to be married,” Lennox said, the twitch of a grin trying to break out across his face, but he contained it, something he was a champion at. And it pissed her off even more. “I know the earl insulted you, but he’s gone. This is a sound offer for you, and you should accept it before you’re are labeled a spinster.”

“You just married Meg, and you are seven and twenty. Do not tell me about being old.” Eva had been on his side for years, both arguing with their parents about forced betrothals. He’d refused his mother, but a couple of months ago she suggested she would choose Lennox’s wife. “You have forgotten your reply to Mama when she suggested she’d choose for you?”

“That is irrelevant in this conversation. We are not choosing for you. He chose you . You and Sloan Rankin will make a fine couple. He has proposed, you’ve known him all your life. What is wrong with a betrothal to Sloan? You’ll be mistress of your castle and living not far from here.”

Eva tipped her head back and made a very unladylike growl, her hands grabbing at her dark hair, yanking the pins out because her waves had already become unruly. “Mama! Tell him to stop.”

Rut MacVey sat in the chair closest to the hearth. “Now dear, you’ve known Sloan forever. He’s a fine man. I believe you should consider his offer. What’s wrong with him?”

“Naught is wrong with him except that I’m not ready yet.” She’d just finished getting rid of a man she hated, the earl. Besides that, her dear father had died not long ago, and he had promised to choose a wonderful man for her. He’d promised to find her a fierce, strong warrior, a Scottish warrior who was the best in all the land. She knew he would be the most handsome and the kindest man too.

Papa had promised. Since she was but a wee one bouncing on his lap, he’d told her about the man who’d have the good fortune of marrying her. Strong, fierce, handsome. Those were his exact words.

Not Sloan Rankin.

Her mother rolled her eyes and sighed. “Here we go again. Lennox, she’s not acting any differently than you did when I tried to convince you to allow me to choose your betrothed. Listen to me again, Eva. I know your father promised you all kinds of things—handsome warrior, the fiercest in all the land. I’ve heard you talk of it since you were a wee bairn, but your sire is gone and cannot choose for you. He’s been gone for two years now. We will forget about everything that happened with the earl, but you must move on. Lennox and I have given you enough time to choose someone, but you have not.

“But the earl tried to propose to me. That counts too.”

“He didn’t suit you. And while I was glad he refused to offer for you in the end, you were not overly willing to get to know the man.” Her mother had that look on her face that told Eva she’d never win this argument.

“I refused him,” she said, nearly stomping her foot. The man had come from England on two occasions, but she hadn’t taken a liking to him. The hard part was that she couldn’t identify exactly what was wrong with the man, just that she didn’t find him appealing. But when he’d asked to see her breasts since he was about to purchase her, Eva had refused, sending him into a fury. But Eva’s fury had been stronger than his, and she’d told him to get out. Since the man had been English, Lennox had agreed with her and sent him on his way.

He’d told Lennox that women were property, no more, and he’d had a right to inspect his property.

Eva had nearly put a fist in his face.

“Think what you wish, but you refused him, so he’d have gone on his way. You were right in making that decision, but it doesn’t change the fact that you are beyond twenty with no prospect in sight. No one will want you soon. It’s time, and Sloan is a fine man.”

“Sloan is a bit gruff, don’t you think, Mama? The man hardly ever speaks. He just growls at people.” Her mind flew from one characteristic to another—there had to be one that would get her mother on her side. She had known Sloan Rankin her entire life, back to the days when he would find a frog near the water and toss it to her as if it were a prize.

The slimy, disgusting things one found in the sea.

Or the time they had all been swimming in the sound, and Sloan had found a fish that he wished to give to her as a pet.

She’d yelled at him when he tried to hand it to her. Ugly, scaly thing. Fish were not pets; they were meant to be eaten for supper. Dogs were pets, and she’d always wanted one but never had one. She’d crossed her arms and glared at the lad as if he were from England.

Lennox glanced over at his mother, his jaw twitching. “I see Eva is still going to be unreasonable. If I have to, I’ll force this. Why not take a few months so he can court you, see if you suit, Eva? I’m sure you’ll grow fond of the man. He has offered, and I’m not about to turn away the only solid offer you’ve had. If you wait much longer, you’ll be an old spinster.”

Eva wished to slap both her mother and her brother. He’d just refused to settle for an arranged betrothal of his own and instead fell in love with a perfect match for him, his wife Meg. He’d married her so quickly it had shocked everyone.

The door opened and their other brother Taskill stepped into the mostly empty great hall. “Oh, I think I should go back out. I can feel the tension from here.” Taskill’s brown hair curled about his face, the wind clearly rearranging his usually fine-looking style. “Should I go back out? It’s about to storm, and I’m guessing that would be more enjoyable than whatever this conversation is.” He grinned as his glance went from one stony face to the next, but no one spoke. “Och, storm it is.” He spun on his heel to take his leave.

But this brother would agree with her. “Nay, Taskill. Stay.” Eva reached his side and took his arm, turning him back to face Lennox. “Tell him I will choose my own husband.”

Taskill smiled and said, “I will choose my own husband.” Eva smacked his arm, so he chuckled and said, “Eva will choose her own husband. And I will choose my own wife.”

“My thanks. As you can both see,” she said, facing her brother and mother. “He agrees with me.”

Taskill said, “I’m next in age. I should marry before you. I just haven’t found the right person yet.”

“There you go, Mother. Find him a wife. Arrange his marriage. He has four winters on me. Leave me alone.” She picked up her skirts and moved over to the door. “I’m finished with this discussion.”

Meg approached from the kitchens, a confused look on her face. Eva said, “Never mind, Meg. Lennox will explain how I refused to accept a betrothal from a man I have no interest in. I’m sure you would agree with me.”

Meg looked from Eva to Lennox to Rut but said nothing. “I haven’t been part of the family long enough to offer an opinion, Eva. Sorry!”

Lennox wrapped his arm around Meg’s shoulders and kissed her forehead. “Forever the negotiator, are you not, love?”

Meg smiled and nodded, but still said nothing as Eva moved over to the doorway.

“And what do I tell Sloan, Eva?” Lennox called after her.

“Tell him I’ll find my own husband. You need not say anything else.” Then she banged the door shut to let them know how serious she was. She had to get away from them. Oh, she knew their intentions were good because she understood their thinking.

It was exactly like her own.

And she knew that her time was running out, but her father had promised her. Somehow, she still believed this handsome man was about to arrive at their castle, calling her name. Telling her that her father had chosen him years ago, and they’d agreed that he would come for her now.

Her brother called her foolish, as did her mother, but to her, it was still real. To let that go was to admit that she’d never see her dear father again.

That he was gone forever and never to return.

She believed he’d taken care of her, chosen a man who would offer for her soon. And she trusted her father to choose the perfect man for her. If he’d only told her his name before he passed on two years ago. “Da, please come back,” she whispered to no one.

She’d thought all about what marriage would look like for her. She’d watched Tamsin and Thane fall in love, then Lennox and Meg. Clan Grantham, the place where she spent more and more of her time because she was training in archery, had two of her favorite couples. Dyna and Derric were so much fun to watch together, but even more? She was entranced by Eli and Alaric.

One day she’d seen them stroll out of the keep together, but Eli had moved ahead of him and teased him like Eva had never seen before.

Dyna noticed her distraction and said, “Don’t watch them. They’re still newly wed and they couple like rabbits.”

Eva had averted her face back to the archery target, lined up her arrow, and was about to let it fire when she heard a moan unlike any she’d ever heard before. Her arrow flew wide, but she stopped while Dyna strolled around the field, retrieving arrows and giggling.

Eva took two steps and saw Alaric and Eli locked together against a tree as if they’d become one person, their gazes unmoving while they panted. Glad she couldn’t see everything because of a few nicely placed branches, she definitely could hear everything.

Everything. Including Eli’s scream of Alaric’s name when she crossed over that precipice she’d heard so much about from others.

She had the sudden urge to do the same thing, if she could find a man willing to teach her a bit about intimacy.

But how was she to find a husband when they were all afraid of her? Hard to find one to marry when she found most of them wouldn’t even speak with her. Well, except for her brothers, though Lennox was trying to get to the hated side of her list. Now that she’d been to Clan Grantham, she’d met so many men that she’d created her own special list in her mind, and they went on one side or the other. Hated on one side, loved on the other. There was no in-between.

She’d been interested in various men over the past few years, but if she ever attempted to have a conversation with one at the festivals or other events, they’d greet her, then smile and walk away, making her feel as if she were the most unloved lass on the earth.

At one point, she’d asked her only friend, Alycia, what was wrong with her, and Alycia had tried to make her believe it was only because she was the chieftain’s sister. But she knew the truth.

Eva was not pretty enough. She’d even reached the point of considering herself ugly. Her hair fell into unruly waves that took forever to straighten, and it was as dark as night, a far cry from the golden colors in Dyna’s hair or many of the bairns at Duart Castle. Her hips were not curvy enough and her breasts were not as large as most lasses. She had tiny feet, and her nose looked as if God forgot to give her one when He made her, tossing her the last one he had before she was born without one.

She’d only find a husband if her father found one for her. She was convinced of it. After years of being ignored, no one was going to offer for her now. She’d overheard talk of other lasses, like Theebet MacKinnis with her generous curves. The lass had so many suitors that her sire had sent them all away.

Eva hadn’t had any other than an English earl. None. Zero. Over twenty summers and noble blood with no offers. She had to be ugly. Well, she supposed she could count Sloan Rankin as her second. How she wished that offer made her heart soar, but since she’d known Sloan for so many years, there would be nothing new to their relationship. Why marry him?

Clan Grantham’s arrival and Lennox’s recent marriage had given her a reprieve. Her mother had left her alone because she’d focused on Lennox. In the meantime, Eva vowed to be more like Eli and Dyna, strolling around in tight leggings instead of fancy gowns, and wearing a bow and quiver with her hair tied back. Dyna even wore hers tied at the top of her head at times, wild braids on either side. She’d learned that Dyna’s mother was Norse, but Eva admired the look more than any other she’d seen. Perhaps she needed to go for a visit to Duart Castle again.

Eva strolled across the courtyard, internally bemoaning the fact that she didn’t have a close enough friend besides Alycia to tell her the truths of the world. Alycia worked as a maid in the keep, sometimes working as a cook’s assistant or a serving lass, so it was hard to pull her away from her work to discuss the issues Eva needed help with. Her mother had advised her on multiple occasions to stop fraternizing with the help.

Her mother gave her the foolish advice that naught good would come of it. Clearly, her mother didn’t understand what it was like to be a young lass with no one to talk to. How she’d wished she’d had a sister, forever envious of the relationship Lennox had with Taskill. The two men discussed everything, though not with her because she was a lass.

On one occasion, she’d asked Taskill what a one-eyed spitter was because the serving lasses had been laughing about it, but Taskill had just stared at Lennox, who let out a barking laugh unlike she’d ever heard from him before.

And she’d told them the truth—someday she’d find out on her own.

Lennox had yelled after her, “The hell you will, Eva! Do not repeat such vulgarities!”

Sard, tarse, one-eyed spitters, shite, and fusty skunks to all of them.

How she wished she had a close friend, one like a sister. Meg had Tamsin, and they were as close as anyone. Eli and Dyna were cousins and related by marriage, another relationship Eva envied. If not for Tamsin, perhaps she could get close to Meg, but whenever Lennox was around, Meg couldn’t leave him alone.

And her dear brother, who’d never looked at a lass before he met Meg, was totally besotted. He couldn’t take his eyes from her and preferred to be touching her.

Touching made Eva think of fusty skunks. Ick.

A sister could have helped her to understand the confusions of growing up, of men and their oddities. Of intimate relationships and all the secrets kept within and away from her ears.

Her thoughts interrupted by her only friend, Alycia, crossing to the stables, she called out to her. “Alycia!”

Alycia stopped to turn toward her. “Oh, greetings to you, Eva. How do you fare this morn?”

“I’m fine. Are you going somewhere?”

“Aye, I’m going to help the Granthams for the rest of the day. Elvard is going with me. He loves to play with Sandor. You look flushed. What happened?”

Not willing to admit where her thoughts had been, still on the intimate relations of Alaric and Eli, she shook it off and said, “I’m mad at my brother and my mother.”

“Why?”

“Because they want to marry me off, someone of their choosing.” Even though Alycia was part of the housekeeping staff at Dounarwyse Castle, she could pick up extra coin by working for the Granthams when they needed her. Rut didn’t mind. And Alycia was Eva’s only true friend, always willing to tell her the truth of the world, something her brothers and mother would never do.

“Who? Someone you don’t like?” Alycia asked. “You are getting up in age for a lass, Eva. I’ve told you that before. I had Elvard when I was six and ten.”

“Sloan Rankin wants a betrothal.”

Alycia let out a whistle, her face lighting up.

“What?”

“Lucky you. You agreed, did you not?”

“Nay,” she said, wondering why her friend had thought it such a good idea. Probably because she hadn’t been able to find a husband since she’d had her bairn. She’d never admitted to anyone who the father of the bairn was, just that he’d moved on. “I don’t wish to marry Sloan. I’ve known him forever. He growls too much.”

“So why does that matter?” Alycia asked as she saddled a horse, flipping her long plait over her shoulder.

“Because I want to marry someone I’m in love with. Someone with mystery, someone who travels the world and will take me with him.” Someone who would follow her everywhere the way Alaric followed Eli.

“Have you kissed Sloan yet?”

“Nay. I don’t like the thought of that.”

“Well, then he’s not for you. But until you’ve kissed the man, any man, I don’t know if you’ll know if he’s the one for you. He could be. You should try.”

“Nay.”

“You are daft, lass. He’s a handsome man. Chieftain of his clan, loads of coin, lives on the water. What more do you want?”

“Love. I want love and I’ll not settle for anything less. If he’s so handsome, why don’t you go after him?” And she wished for the assurance that her father had chosen the man for her. Something she’d never know now that he’d passed on. The thought made her teary-eyed.

Alycia snorted. “I don’t think I’m Sloan’s type.”

“And what is his type?” Confused by Alycia’s quick denial, she had to wonder what was wrong with Sloan. She’d liked him as a friend, just nothing more than that.

“A lass with her maidenhead still intact. That’s his type. He’s a chieftain and needs to make sure any bairn born by his wife is his. Besides, he would not be interested in me if I were a virgin. I’m not noble blood like you.”

“Well, I don’t care. You can have him if you like.”

Alycia rolled her eyes. “As I said, he’d not be interested. I’ll see you later. I have to get Elvard and move along.”

“What’s the event at Duart Castle?” Eva had heard about something, but she couldn’t recall.

“Just a small family gathering. Dyna’s sire is leaving soon, so this is their last celebration of the new bairn before Connor and Sela leave. Not too many will be there.”

She had a sudden idea—Broc. Mayhap she’d go along and see if she could get to know Broc better.

It was the only way she’d get her brother to leave her alone. Find her own husband.

Broc MacNicol was unmarried.

“I’m coming with you.”