Highland Courage (Highland Brides) by Ceci Giltenan Page B

sliding down her cheeks.
    Tadhg sighed; her behavior disappointed him. “Ye will continue to reside in the keep with your family, however, ye also are not permitted to enter the south tower unless I personally give ye leave to do so. Is that understood?”
    “Aye, Laird.” She was clearly furious.
    “Leave the hall now,” Tadhg ordered.
    She looked as if she wanted to protest, but she clamped her mouth shut and left the hall for the west tower.
    Tadhg motioned for supper service to begin.
    David turned to him. “Laird, I am very sorry. My daughter’s behavior was unconscionable. I appreciate your lenience with her.”
    “David, she is nearly a woman grown. I do not hold ye responsible for her actions.”
    Elspet also approached the table. “Laird, I too must beg your pardon. I thought I told Meriel to make sure the bath was ready for ye after supper.”
    “Elspet, ye have nothing for which to apologize. I am confident your instructions were perfectly clear and even if they weren’t, ye certainly did not prevent them from knocking on the door.”
    Mairead had remained silent while Tadhg addressed the issue and she continued to be very quiet through supper. Undoubtedly the whole affair had been distressing to her. Within hours of her arrival, he had learned her reticence increased when she was embarrassed or became uncomfortable. Watching her now was beyond painful. As soon as the meal was over, he whisked her out of the hall, away from the eyes of the clan.

Nine
     
    Mairead woke well before dawn. The events of the previous two days consumed her thoughts. She decided the problem yesterday might have been in assuming things would be as they were in her parents’ home. When they were not, she wasn’t prepared. She needed to learn how to cope with the differences and try again. She whispered St. Brendan’s prayer.
    Help me to journey beyond the familiar and into the unknown.
    Give me the faith to leave old ways and break fresh ground with You.
    Christ of the mysteries, I trust You to be stronger than each storm within me.
    I will trust in the darkness and know that my times, even now, are in Your hand.
    Tune my spirit to the music of heaven, and somehow, make my obedience count for You.
    Unable to return to sleep, she rose quietly and dressed. She did not want to go down to the great hall yet and decided to wait for Tadhg to rise. She went to the cabinet in her solar and took out her lute. Feeling she might be in more need of God’s help today than ever before, she decided perhaps Psalms were in order. She played and sang softly so as not to wake her husband. After losing herself in the music for a while, she looked up to find Tadhg standing in the doorway, listening. “I’m sorry, I didn’t intend to wake ye,” she said, putting her lute on the table.
    “Ye didn’t wake me, but I was worried when ye weren’t in bed. Your father didn’t exaggerate about your skill. That was lovely, Mairead. At the risk of making ye blush more than ye already are, I must say I have never heard a more talented musician. Your brothers said ye played several instruments well, but they didn’t mention your voice. What were ye singing?”
    “The prayers of Matins.”
    “Your voice is as pure and sweet as ye are.”
    “I don’t usually sing where people can hear me,” she said, blushing deeply as he predicted.
    He frowned. “Well, lass, ye will sing where I can hear ye.”
    She smiled at the odd command. “If ye wish, Laird. Shall we go down and break our fast now?”
    “Sing something else for me first.”
    Mairead picked up the lute and thought a moment. Then with a sly grin, she played a melody to which she sang the words of a Psalm, Domine labia mea aperies et os meum adnuntiabit laudem tuam.
    He laughed when the meaning of the words she sang sunk in. “Lord, open my lips and my mouth shall sing your praise.”
    When she finished, they went down to the great hall. Over their breakfast, Tadhg asked, “Did ye speak