Page 18 of The Defiance of a Scottish Heart
Jasper entered behind him for an ale. “What say you, T?” Then he laughed.
That was Jasper’s latest entertainment, asking Taskill if he would marry this one or that one. Didn’t matter if they were married, a serving maid, or a wench who traveled the road.
“Nay, Jasper,” he shouted, refusing to look at the man.
Florie shrugged her shoulders and giggled. “I don’t remember. Is it true?” Her eyes were wide as saucers as she waited for his answer.
“I’m sorry to tell you that it’s not true. I have not chosen a bride yet.”
“Oh, surely you have your eye on someone,” she whispered, fanning her eyelashes just so. “Who would you choose?”
Taskill noticed she gave him her best smile, stuck her chest out, then settled her hands on her curvaceous hips. He’d said nothing to encourage her, yet here she was, aiming to strike him with her feminine wiles. “I don’t have anyone in mind. Now about that bread?”
“But would you ever marry a serving lass?” The innocent look on her face nearly made him jest with her, but he decided it was time to stop his teasing.
“I would marry the one who stole my heart. That’s all I can say.”
“But what would it take …”
“Florie!” His mother’s voice carried from the balcony. The serving lass jumped and ran back into the kitchens.
Rut MacVey’s voice boomed from the staircase. “Honestly, Taskill. If you would not encourage them, it would be easier to chastise them. Leave them be.”
Taskill took the bread handed to him before Florie hurried away, then he spun around. “Mama, did you overhear the entire conversation? Because I’d like to know how I encouraged her. You all think I like to spend my time basking in the admiration of female company, but sometimes I’m just answering questions and trying not to hurt someone’s feelings.”
His mother approached and her gaze went from his toes to his head before she sighed. “I suppose you cannot help it if you look like your mother. You are a fine specimen of manhood, Taskill, and the lasses are not blind. It certainly is not entirely your fault. I know that to be the truth. They do often fall at your feet.”
“Not quite, Mama, but they do ramble on and wiggle quite a bit.”
“The lads fell at my feet, so I understand your problem. Now, what to do about Sheona.”
Taskill groaned and hung his head. “Mama, truly? Now?”
“Taskill, inside Lennox’s solar. Now.” She pointed and while Taskill let out a loud groan, he followed her inside.
“What, Mama? I thought this entire situation was over. I’m not marrying Sheona.” At least, he thought it had come to an end.
“Apparently, you don’t know that old coot the way I do. He’s not going to let this go until Sheona is married. Now, you have two choices. You marry her, or you find someone who will marry her willingly.”
“But she’s not ready to marry either. And she should choose her own husband.” When would this torture end? All because ofthis foolish secret he kept inside. He reached for the rock on his brother’s desk and tossed it back and forth from one hand to the other.
“What the hell is in your head?”
“What?” Damn, but his mother was good. Except most of the time, she had her energy focused on Lennox and Eva. She’d always ignored the one in the middle, but now, all of a sudden, she couldn’t take her focus away from Taskill. He had to fix this somehow.
“You’re hiding something.”
“What?” He jumped up from his chair and paced in a circle.
“Oh, that’s not an admission of guilt at all, Taskill. Out with it. What is holding you back?”
“Naught. I’m just upset by all this.” He took his seat again and set the rock back on his brother’s desk. Hellfire, but no one had ever noticed what he did most of the time. Eva had always been Da’s wee lassie and Lennox had been heir to the chief.
No one had ever cared what he did all day.
This change since his siblings had married did not suit him one bit. He had to take the attention away from himself. “All right, let’s find another for Sheona. Who would we suggest? I’m willing to talk with anyone. Sheona is a beautiful lass. She’s smart, and Eva said she’s doing well learning axe throwing. She’d make someone a fine wife. Why, her bairns would be lovely.”
“Keep going. Mayhap you’ll convince yourself. I couldn’t have said it better myself.”
