Page 33 of The Defiance of a Scottish Heart
“Fishing, Mama. I don’t have time to chat.”
“Fine. Go ahead. If you see that fool Dermot along the way, stick a hook in his backside, would you, please? And tell him it’s from me.”
“Sure, Mama.” He wasn’t about to tell her where Dermot was because that would set her off too. He raced up the stairs, grabbed his best lures that he kept hidden in his chamber, changed his clothes, then headed back out, stopping for his fishing nets in the stable.
“I’m ready, Jasper. Where’s Homer?
“Right here. I’m ready.”
They mounted up and headed toward Rankin land, taking the last fork to the left, since the right led to the castle. The left led to the coastline where most loved to drop their nets—it’s where many launched their boats. Taskill enjoyed fishing on thecoast but hadn’t been in a while. Dusk was nearly upon them, the best time for biting fish.
Jasper led the way and dismounted, shouting out to the others, “Three more for your contest. Don’t start without us.”
“No need to worry,” Miles said. “No one has caught anything yet.”
Miles handed Taskill a skin of brew. “You are my best friend, Miles, and I thank you. Dermot makes the best. I hope you’ve learned his ways.”
“I have. I know his secrets, though he doesn’t know it.” Miles laughed and headed back to the shoreline.
Taskill found his spot and settled down, his empty bucket by his side, ready to fill. Eight men were fishing—Brian, Miles, Jasper, Clyde, Homer, and Brian’s two guards, Ewing and Bearnard—all quiet at the moment, hoping to catch the biggest prize for the bragging rights.
It gave Taskill time to think. He knew Sheona as well as anyone, and there was no manner of thinking that made him believe the lass should become a nun. When they were younger, Sheona could keep up with the three of them: Lennox, Sloan, and Taskill. Once in a while, Dermot would force her to stay home and Ingelram would go in place of her, but he preferred Sheona. She could ride a horse better than anyone. The only thing she wasn’t skilled at was using a sword.
But she’d never tried.
She could control her mare better than any of them, always whispering sweet words to the beast, and it would respond by doing the highest leaps of any horse he’d ever seen. She could fish with the best, run obstacle courses, swim across the sound, roast hazelnuts, and carve her own daggers out of wood.
Then something happened. Something that had changed everything.
Sheona’s chest blossomed.
Her hips began to curve, she grew breasts, and she grew taller so fast that she became uncoordinated, which led her mother to insist she stay at home.
Once, he’d seen her tears when her father had announced there would be no more playing with the lads. That she was to act like a lady and learn how to do needlework.
Taskill’s heart had ached terribly that day. He hadn’t recognized it back then for what it was. What ended up in his heart probably hadn’t developed yet. Instead, the feeling had only sprouted, every sighting of the lass watering it a wee bit more. He replayed every conversation over and over again until several moons ago when the truth had finally come to him.
Taskill missed Sheona. He’d always wished to protect her, and as she grew older, his feelings for her had only expanded, but was it strong enough to be considered love? Nay. And he also knew he could never offer for her because he’d make a lousy husband. He and Sheona would not make a good couple.
Sheona deserved better than someone like him.
After Taskill had caught half a bucket of fish, Clyde, a newer Rankin guard who no one seemed to like, meandered closer to him.
Clyde started the conversation exactly where Taskill didn’t wish to start. “So, you heard that Sheona is off to Iona to the nunnery?”
“I did. A visit I was told.”
Clyde snorted. “That’s what Dermot told her, but I don’t think that’s his intent. He plans to leave her there. I think he hopes it will scare her into becoming betrothed. Mayhap to you. What say you?”
“I say it’s none of your concern.”
Clyde arched a brow. “Fair enough. I was just hoping to get your blessing.”
“Blessing for what?”
“I’d like to court Sheona, but if you plan to offer for her, I won’t.”
Taskill nearly choked on the ale he’d just swallowed. “You’re a guard. Think you Dermot will accept you? Don’t get your hopes up. You aren’t good enough for her.”
