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

ken?”
    Fiona’s face twisted. “Lachlan told me…he said we would be discreet.”
    “When he would be married to me? The two of ye thought ye could continue this? How could ye do this to me, Fiona? How could ye attend me during the day, then slink away to share my husband’s bed? How could ye?”
    “I dinna think ye’d discover us, Margaret!”
    “And that makes it all right? Ye’d betray me and tell yerselves that what I dinna ken cannot harm me? Is that it?”
    Fiona’s face flushed. “Ye dinna ken what it’s like for the rest of us. All yer life ye’ve been cared for and cosseted. Ye kent from yer earliest day that ye’d marry a wealthy man. What did I ken, Margaret? That I’d marry some Somerstrath man and bear his children and be fortunate to live through it. Ye dinna ken what it’s like to dream of a life like yers, to have a man like Lachlan give ye things. He’s been kind to me. He loves me.”
    Margaret blinked, trying to reconcile this new Fiona with the girl she’d known all her life. “Do ye love him?”
    Fiona’s voice was hushed, but her words were clear. “Love? No. That’s for the likes of ye. He was my way into the world.”
    Margaret pulled her ankle from her friend’s grasp. “Not anymore. Ye’ll die here in Somerstrath, Fiona.”
    Fiona’s eyes hardened. “We’ll see.”
    “Mark my words, Fiona. Ye’ll never leave this place. Ye’ll die here.” Margaret kicked her pony forward. She guided it through the upper half of the village and through the inland gate, following Rignor and the guards up the narrow path to the ledge, which was wide and flat and afforded a view of all of Somerstrath. They paused there, but Margaret did not look into the village, did not want to see Fiona again. She kept her eyes on the sun’s rays lighting the top of the keep, wondering if this would ever be her home again. She would not think of the future; she’d think no further than this lovely summer day just beginning. She turned her pony and rode into the trees.
    She’d gone just a few feet when her pony shied, and she herself ducked out of the way of a raven that flew directly at them, croaking its message before disappearing into the pines. She calmed the pony, but had a harder time with herself. Everyone knew that to see a raven flying at one or to hear it croak at the start of a journey was among the most ill-starred omens. She shook off her sense of foreboding. How ridiculous to believe the old superstitions. Next thing she knew she’d be throwing salt over her left shoulder.
    Rignor was, as she’d predicted, both sullen and silent, but Nell, blissfully unaware of last night’s argument and wisely not mentioning the one with Fiona, chattered to him all the way up the steep hill that led inland. Rignor, to his credit, neither complained nor moved away from his young sister, but he did give Margaret several baleful glances, which she pretended not to see. They would ride for two hours before reaching the first shieling, and she was content to let Nell spend all of it talking to him.
    The wind kept them company all day. Above them the sunlit mountains, blanketed with purple heather, kept the clouds from passing too quickly overhead, then reluctantly allowed them to continue on their way east. They were warmly welcomed by those who were already inland, and ate their midday meal on the edge of a meadow high in the foothills. While Rignor told the clanspeople all the latest happenings in Somerstrath, Margaret let her gaze and her mind wander. She watched the shadow of the clouds move quickly across the hillsides, deepening the colors, then releasing them into the sunshine again. In a few weeks this meadow would be dotted with russet Highland cattle. By autumn they’d be fat and quite contented, and those who summered up here in the hills would come home browned and cheerful.
    Nell stretched her arms high above her head. “I may stay here forever.”
    “Would that we could.”
    Nell threw