Forgiving Hearts: Duncurra 1-3 (36 page)

Over the next week, Tadhg became concerned about Mairead. He couldn’t quite figure out what was wrong. His entire clan was finally showing Mairead the respect due her and yet she seemed sad and tense. At the midday meal four days before Christmas he asked, “Sweetling, ye seem unhappy to me. Are ye missing yer family? Is that what has ye so melancholy?”

“I suppose I do miss them.”

“Well, I had a surprise planned for Christmas Eve, but maybe it will help if I tell ye now. Several days ago, I received a message from yer father. Rowan will be spending Christmas with us, before going on to Duncurra, the MacIan stronghold.” He expected joy but instead there was a fleeting moment of panic before she composed herself. “Why is Rowan going to Duncurra?”

“I don’t have all of the details, but I understand Niall MacIan has asked Rowan to join his elite guard. I’m sure we will learn more once he arrives.”

“Wouldn’t it be a shorter journey for him to travel straight to Duncurra?”

“I suppose it would, but for some reason he wants to visit with ye and Flan,” he teased her.

“He needn’t go out of his way. It is hard enough to travel in the winter months.”

“Mairead, ye are being ridiculous. Rowan wants to see ye and Flan. I thought ye would welcome a visit at Christmas from some of yer family.”

“I do. Of course I do. I just don’t want—I don’t want—well, Rowan should spend Christmas with the family.”

Tadhg laughed. “What are ye talking about? Ye and Flan
are
family.”

“I just meant—I just thought he would rather spend Christmas with the
whole
family at Carraigile.”

Tadhg couldn’t believe what he was hearing. This was the last reaction he expected from her. She obviously missed her family terribly and yet she seemed set against Rowan’s visit. “Mairead, stop it, ye are being ridiculous. The whole family isn’t at Carraigile. Ye and Flan are here, and Rowan wants to spend Christmas here with ye.”

Flan overheard this last comment, and he asked excitedly, “Rowan is coming for Christmas?” Tadhg looked at Mairead for a moment before answering. “Aye, Flan, he will arrive on Christmas Eve and plans to stay through Epiphany.”

Tadhg had no idea why Mairead had reacted as she did to the news of Rowan coming, but over the next couple of days things only got worse. She pushed herself incessantly, preparing the keep for Christmas. She seemed distracted and wore a haunted look he didn’t understand. Two nights later, when he couldn’t get his normally responsive wife to even return his kiss, Tadhg had finally had enough. “Mairead, what is the matter with ye? Ye have been out of sorts for weeks, but it has gotten worse since I told ye Rowan was coming.”

“Nothing is the matter with me. There is just a lot to do.”

“But everything is coming together beautifully. Why are ye so upset?”

“I’m not upset,” she snapped.

“Nay, of course not. What was I thinking? Clearly ye are yer usual sweet self,” he snapped back. She turned away from him, trembling.
By all that’s holy, how could I be such a callow eejit?
“Mairead, sweetling, I’m sorry. I know something is bothering ye, and I wish ye would tell me what it is.”

“I’m just tired. Really. I’m sorry, too. I didn’t mean to snap at ye.” He pulled her into an embrace, just holding her close for a while. Something else was amiss, but clearly he could not push her into telling him what it was.

~ * ~

By early afternoon on Christmas Eve all preparations for the Christmas feast and those that followed between Christmas and Epiphany were complete. Cnocreidh had been cleaned from roof to cellar. Boughs of fir and holly decorated the great hall. Fresh rushes, strewn with bay and rosemary, covered the floors. Mairead slipped away to the chapel, seeking a few minutes of peace. As she knelt praying in the cold quiet church, voices sounded in the courtyard. Oren called, “Elspet, have ye seen Lady Matheson?”

“Nay, I was looking for her too. Father Mungo thought she might have gone to the chapel. I was just going there to check.”

“I’ll come with ye.”

Mairead sighed and girded herself for what was to come as Elspet and Oren entered the chapel.

“My lady,” Elspet said, “I don’t mean to interrupt ye, but we’ve received word yer brother’s party approaches. I thought ye would want to make ready for him.”

“Thank ye, Elspet. I will be along in a minute.”

To her dismay, her voice quavered. Elspet asked, “Is something amiss, my lady?”

“Nay.”

Oren, never one to mince words, said, “My lady, ye haven’t been yerself for days. What has ye so upset?”

She bowed her head, feeling defeated. Why shouldn’t she tell them? It was obvious anyway. “I was hoping my family would never have to find out what a failure I am.”

Elspet stared at her in shocked silence, but flabbergasted, Oren said, “A what? Did ye say a failure? Why in the name of all that is holy would ye say something like that?”

“Because I am.”

“Merciful heavens, lass, how could ye think that? Have ye not looked around yerself?” Elspet asked, evidently having recovered from her initial shock. “Cnocreidh has never looked better, even when the laird’s mother was living.”

“Aye, it practically glistens and things have never run more smoothly. I am man enough to admit ye are much better at running a household than I was. Ye certainly haven’t failed.”

“That is just the surface, Oren. Anyone can do it with enough hard work.”

“Then what do ye think ye have failed at, my lady?” Elspet asked gently.

“I’m not whom the clan wanted me to be. I am MacKenzie’s Mouse, and I can’t change who I am.”

Her husband’s voice cut in, “What are ye talking about?” She looked up to see him standing in the door of the chapel.

Elspet turned toward him to explain. “Laird, Lady Matheson seems to think she has failed us in some way.”

“Mairead, sweetling, why? I knew something was wrong. Is this about what happened with yer recorder? Has something else happened?”

“Nay, of course not. Ye ordered the clan to show me respect, so they do.”

“Then why are ye going on about failing?”

“The
only
reason the clan shows me respect is because ye ordered it. It has nothing to do with me or anything I do. I thought I could earn their trust and respect, but it was just foolishness. How could MacKenzie’s Mouse earn anyone’s respect? Now my brother will be here, and my whole family will know.”

“What’s foolish, lass, is ye believing that,” declared Oren.

“Oren, ye shouldn’t address Lady Matheson so,” warned Elspet, but Oren continued.

“Nay, I will say this. I am ashamed to admit I was among those who were not happy about the laird marrying ye.” Tadhg glared at him. “But I knew well before the laird’s pronouncement last week I was wrong. Everything we said just now is true. Ye are skilled and hardworking. I know ye were shy when ye first came here, but we aren’t blind, my lady. We have seen how hard ye worked to overcome yer shyness and get to know us.”

“But—”

“Nay, my lady, the battle was almost won before the laird ever said a word, and most of us think it was noble of ye to try so hard on yer own. There will always be vindictive, self-centered people in the world and this clan is no exception. Whoever put yer instrument under the rushes was one of them, but know this—most everyone’s heart ached for ye that night. The majority of the clan loves and respects ye because of yer actions alone, not what the laird ordered. And as to the rest of them, they’re so thick they needed to be hit with a good strong dose of the laird’s anger to catch up.”

Elspet said, “My lady, ye just said the hall looks as good as it does because of hard work and ye were right. But don’t ye see? Everyone put in a little bit of extra effort in everything they did to please ye.”

Bewildered, Mairead looked from Elspet to Oren, not sure of what to say. Finally, Tadhg said, “Oren, Elspet, would ye mind giving us a moment? I would like to speak with Lady Matheson alone. We will return to the keep shortly.”

When the other two had left the chapel, Tadhg took Mairead’s small hands in his and captured her gaze. “Is this why ye have been so tense for the last few days? Why ye didn’t want Rowan to come? Ye thought ye had failed?”

Mairead nodded, and he pulled her close, enveloping her in his strength and warmth. “Please, Mairead, if ye are sad or hurt or scared, don’t shut me out. It grieves me to know ye thought of yerself as a failure for one moment, much less for days. Cnocreidh has always been a well-run keep, but I haven’t thought of it as a ‘home’ for years, and ye have made it that for me again.”

She looked up at him, wanting to believe him. “Truly?”

“Aye, love, truly.” He held her tightly for a moment then said, “Shall we go to the keep now so we can meet yer brother when he arrives?”

She nodded. With his arm around her shoulders, they walked together across the courtyard and into the warmth and bustling activity in the great hall.

Her fears about her perceived failure put to rest, Mairead greeted Rowan joyously.

“Flan, where did ye hide quiet little Mairead? Marriage must agree with our wee sister.” Mairead blushed profusely at his comment. “Ah, there she is,” he teased again.

The Christmas celebration began at midnight with the Angel’s Mass followed at dawn by the Shepherd’s Mass and finally the Mass of the Divine Word later in the morning. Then the feasting began early in the afternoon. As many of the clan as possible attended the celebration. After the feast, minstrels provided music for dancing. After dancing to exhaustion, Mairead sat with Tadhg watching the celebration. “The musicians are wonderful, Tadhg, thank ye.”

“’Tis my pleasure, sweetling. I think dancing may be my second favorite thing to do with my lovely wife.”

Mairead blushed but whispered, “Mine, too.”

“It looks like we aren’t the only ones enjoying the music. Rowan seems to have his pick of dancing partners. I’ve seen him dancing with Meriel, Gallia, Finola, and countless others. Now it seems Eavan has her eyes cast on him.”

Mairead glanced around the room looking for her brother. Extremely tall and broad shouldered, with dark eyes and dark wavy hair, he did seem to be causing a stir among the unmarried Matheson women. At the moment he was indeed dancing with Eavan, who flirted boldly with him. When the dance ended, he accepted a tankard of ale offered by yet another Matheson maid before joining Tadhg and Mairead where they sat.

Tadhg grinned broadly at him. “Enjoying yerself, Rowan?”

“Oh, aye, Laird, the food and drink are the finest.” Rowan laughed and saluted his host with the tankard in his hand.

“I don’t think it is the food and drink which has ye so merry,” scolded Mairead good-naturedly. “Don’t forget ye are to be married soon.”

“But I’m not married yet, little sister. Do ye begrudge me the company of these fine Matheson lassies for a wee dance or two?”

Mairead laughed. “Not I, but yer betrothed might not look so lightly on it.”

“Ah, Mairead, he will have many years to dance with Eara Fraser, let him have his fun tonight.”

“Just don’t break any hearts, brother. These are my clanswomen now.”

“Aye, Lady Matheson, I promise ye I will take care.”

~ * ~

Clan Matheson, like most Highland clans, celebrated several holy days between Christmas and the Epiphany twelve days later, during which time Mairead and Flan enjoyed Rowan’s visit immensely. Rowan regaled them with new stories about the goings on at Carraigile and the antics of their young nieces and nephews. It wasn’t until the day before Epiphany that Mairead finally asked why Rowan was going to Duncurra.

“I know ye trained there under Laird MacIan’s father, but ye have been home now for two years.”

“When he was here for yer wedding, Niall MacIan asked me if I would be interested in returning to Duncurra as one of his guardsmen. I said I would consider it, but now King David has summoned Niall and Fingal to court. They must leave immediately after the holidays. With the MacLennan’s in such disarray, Niall is worried about leaving Duncurra shorthanded and asked if I would come, at least temporarily. I agreed to. Da also sent twenty of his men-at-arms to bolster MacIan’s ranks.”

“When Rowan leaves, thirty Matheson men-at-arms will go with him, as well,” Tadhg explained. “Are the MacLennan’s that much of a threat?” Mairead asked.

Tadhg shook his head. “Probably not, but a show of strength never hurts. After the events last winter, they lost a lot of men and they are weak. Also, they don’t have a strong leader. A distant cousin of Malcolm’s, named Meara, was recognized as the chief, but she died suddenly a few weeks ago. The leadership fell to Meara’s niece, a lass named Gillian. A weak clan with an unproven leader can make for a desperate situation. It pays to be cautious because desperate men are dangerous and unpredictable.”

“How long will ye stay?”

“At least until I wed Eara Fraser in the spring. Perhaps longer if things have not settled down by then.”

“What does Da think about ye staying at Duncurra?”

Rowan laughed. “Ye would think Da only had one child instead of ten when it comes time for one to leave. Look how long he avoided a wedding for ye. But he understands Laird MacIan’s need and is happy to support him—for now,” he added with a grin.

“What about ye, do ye want to leave Carraigile?”

Rowan smiled and chided, “When did ye become so full of questions, little sister?” Mairead blushed but Rowan answered his own question. “I’ll tell ye, it was when ye left Carraigile. Make no mistake, Mairead, I love our family as much as ye do, but there were ten of us. With spouses and children, it was easy to get pushed along with the tide. Ye certainly did.” Mairead started to object, but Rowan silenced her. “Nay, Mairead, ye know it’s true. I know ye were happy and comfortable being one in the crowd, staying in the background. Clearly ye can’t stay in the background here. I’m sure it has been a challenge, but it was one ye were well prepared to meet whether ye believe it or not, and ye are better for it.”

Mairead said nothing but looking from Rowan to Tadhg, she was moved by the warmth and pride that seemed to radiate from them both.

Rowan continued, “So ye see, sometimes ye have to leave what is comfortable to find where ye are truly meant to be. Ye know Annag, Peadar, and I have always considered Cathal our da, we were just wee ones when Mother married him.”

“But Da thinks of ye as his own, too.”

“I know he does. Believe me, I know. Ye should have heard the earful I got when I mentioned perhaps staying at Duncurra. Still, sometimes ye want to make yer own mark on the world. I envy ye and Annag in that regard.”

Mairead laughed. “I am not making a mark on the world. I’m just MacKenzie’s Mouse.”

“Ye are not a mouse, Mairead, and ye never were. Look around ye, pet. Ye are the wife of a powerful laird, ye will be the mother of his children, and ye could run this household with yer eyes closed. Do ye think Lily or Rose could have handled this?”

“Certainly they could have.”

“Nay, they couldn’t. They are lovely, kind women and are willing to work at anything which needs doing, but between them they couldn’t organize their way out of a sack. Do ye think Da couldn’t have arranged marriages for them to a laird or his heir?”

“He wanted them to be able to stay at Carraigile.”

“Aye, but don’t fool yerself, Mairead. If Da thought it was in the best interests of the clan he would have let them go; after all, he arranged Annag’s marriage to the MacBain. I think he knows neither Lily nor Rose has the strength and skills to be a laird’s wife. Ye have proven yerself to be one of the strongest and bravest women I know.”

“But I’m not brave.”

“Mairead, love, that’s not true. Ye have an inner strength a warrior would envy and ye are very brave,” said Tadhg. “Ye know bravery isn’t always something big and bold that warriors wield. Sometimes bravery is just the will to get up and try it all again the next day when it is the last thing ye want to do.”

Mairead looked into his eyes and read the truth written there. He had learned everything about her, more than any member of her family knew. Still, the love that shone from him was undeniable. Although he had never said it, at that moment she understood without a doubt that he loved her as much as she loved him. He believed she was strong and courageous.
Perhaps
it is time I believed in myself.
She vowed she would.

~ * ~

For a few moments everything else in the room ceased to exist for Tadhg. He looked into Mairead’s silver eyes, willing her to accept what he believed to be true about her. But what was reflected there touched his very soul. She loved him, absolutely, unconditionally. She had never uttered the words to him, but she didn’t need to. It was clearly written in her eyes. She had given him her heart as surely as he had lost his own to her.

~ * ~

Mairead woke early on Epiphany. In the warm cocoon of their bed, she became vaguely aware of something tickling her face. She squirmed away from it, snuggling deeper into the bedclothes. She kept her eyes closed, unwilling to wake yet. In a moment, she felt it on her nose again. She wakened more fully and opened one eye to see Tadhg propped on one elbow next to her lightly tickling her with one of her own curls. She laughed, brushing his hand away. “Ye are a very wicked man, waking me like that.”

“Twas my Epiphany gift to myself. I wanted to see yer beautiful smile and hear yer laughter.”

She didn’t know what to say. But as she lay there, she remembered the profound sense of being loved that she experienced the previous evening. She would give him the gift of the words. “Tadhg?”

“Aye?”

“I love ye.”

“Oh, Mairead, I love ye too. More than I ever thought possible.”

~ * ~

The feast of Epiphany was, if possible, more sumptuous than the Christmas feast. The great hall was crowded and the atmosphere joyous. To commemorate the visit of the Magi to the Christ child, Tadhg gave gifts of coin to his clansmen. The music and laughter became livelier and more raucous as the hour grew later. Exhausted from dancing, Mairead stood with Tadhg near one of the hearths, taking it all in. She was genuinely pleased as Jock approached with one hand held behind his back. “Jock, I am so happy ye were able to come for the feast tonight.”

The old man smiled broadly, his eyes twinkling merrily, and he gave a little bow. “Good evening, my lady, Laird. Aye, ’tis a wonderful feast, to be sure.”

“I’m glad ye are enjoying yerself, Jock,” Tadhg answered.

“Oh I am, I am.” He nodded his head but kept his hand behind him.

A hint of a smile hovered around Tadhg’s lips. “What’s that ye have there, behind yer back, Jock?”

“Ah, Laird, ’tis nothing but a bit of kindling that I thought Lady Matheson might want back.”

Mairead was confused for a moment until the kind old man pulled his hand from behind his back, handing her a recorder. “Ye fixed it?”

“Lass, it was nearly beyond fixing, but I was able to save the mouth piece and the piece on the end. See, there is the wee wren. The bit in the middle is new. I also took the liberty of adding something to yer grand-da’s design. If ye look among the vines near the wren, ye will see I added a sword. It is to remind ye that ye may be a little bird, but now ye are under the protection of the Mathesons.”

Mairead lovingly turned the instrument over in her hands, both touched and amazed. She had never expected to see it again. She lifted it to her lips and began to play. The timbre of the instrument had changed, but the sound was still beautiful. As she played the people near her grew silent, turning to listen. The silence spread out from her like a wave, replaced by the tune she played. Even the minstrels stilled their instruments as the melody washed across the room. Lost in the music, she was completely unaware of the hush that fell. When she finished playing the air, the hall resounded with the sounds of the clan’s approval.

Mairead blushed but smiled in appreciation. “Thank ye, Jock.” She leaned forward to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Ye have no idea how much this means to me.”

“Lass, it can’t mean more to ye than ye mean to us.”

It became evident to Mairead that she had experienced her own personal epiphany during the Christmas season. After living with shame and doubting herself for years, rather suddenly she finally believed she was worthy of love and respect.