Read Online On a Highland Shore by Kathleen Givens - Free Book Online

choices.”
    “There are other men, Father, other families…”
    He held up a hand to stop her. “That’s it, Margaret. Ye’ll marry Lachlan and live a life of luxury with him. Or ye’ll spend yer days in the cloister. I’ll give ye the choice and hope you’re not foolish enough to dig yer heels in.”
    “He lied to me, Father.”
    Father sighed again. “Aye, he did. But I’ve given my word, and ye’ve given yers. A contract is a contract, and we’ll live up to our half.”
    “Father!”
    He stood. “Tears willna change it nor will shouting. Ye should ken that after listening to yer mother for all these years.” He started for the door.
    “Why is it, Father,” Margaret cried, “that Rignor remains unbound and I have to marry where I dinna wish to?”
    Her father turned back, his eyes aflame now. “Yer brother remains ‘unbound’ as ye call it, because no one will have him. I’ve had four families refuse him. Four! Each time he destroys what I’ve built! I dinna ken where I’ll try next. Nell’s betrothed died. I’ve been avoiding that task for years, but now I’ve got to find someone for her. That’s why yer marriage is more important than ever, Margaret. Without strong alliances we’re just one isolated clan on the western shore; with them we’re part of Scotland. Without them we face our enemies alone. With them we have allies on which to call. I’ll not have ye, nor anyone, prevent me from doing what’s best for the clan. I’ve no patience left for a lass who only thinks of herself, so make yer choice, lass. Marry Lachlan or spend yer life in the abbey.”
    “And if I chose the abbey?”
    “Then Nell will marry Lachlan, and we’ll rarely see ye again. So ye choose, lass, and live with yer choice. Which of ye will marry Lachlan?”
    The door closed behind him. Margaret and Nell exchanged a startled look.
     
    It had been two days since she’d found Lachlan with Fiona, one day of Lachlan’s following her incessantly, pleading his cause, begging her forgiveness, then a morning of arguing. Two days of her father’s refusing to discuss it, and her mother’s bloodlessly giving only the most necessary commands, not one kind word or tender look. So be it. Margaret was beyond weary of the topic. Nothing had changed. She would not marry the man. But then she’d glance at Nell and sigh. If Lachlan was not a fit husband for her, how could he be any different for Nell? What were her responsibilities, to her clan and her family—and to her sister, just on the brink of womanhood? She had no doubt that their father would make good his threat and marry Nell to Lachlan in her stead.
    How could she marry him? How could she not?
    Lachlan left at last, assuming the demeanor of a disappointed man, his brows drawn together and mouth petulant. It was a fine act, but one that left her unconvinced. From her perch in her room she’d seen his head rise as soon as he cleared the gates of the courtyard, when he thought her father could no longer see him. And instead of turning to the left, to go through the inland gate and to the paths that would take him eventually to Stirling, he’d turned right. Toward the lower village and the harbor. Toward the weaver’s house. Toward Fiona. Fiona, who had had the guards deliver her pleas to talk. Margaret had sent them back with the message that there was nothing Fiona could say that she wanted to hear.
    Today she and Rignor and Nell would leave as well, riding out with a handful of guards to the shielings, then to the abbey and to court. How many times had she stood at her window and wished she could choose her future? And now she could, but the choice brought little comfort. She closed her eyes and let the wind flow over her. Snapping wind, she thought, opening her eyes and turning from the window. That was what her brother Davey called the kind of wind sweeping in now from the sea, bringing havoc with it. It fit her mood perfectly.
    She looked around the small room