A Feisty Lass

Chapter 13: Alas Poor Lass

Chapter 13: Alas, Poor Lass

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. . . . . 

The girl quickened her pace, obviously attempting to evade me. I yelled to her, "No, wait!" That only served to spur her on faster; however, I was determined to thwart her plans of escape.

Breathless, I caught up with her, and grabbed her arm. She jerked it away from me, and backing against the wall, whimpered, "Dinna hurt me ... please."

"I'm not going to hurt you, even though you definitely deserve it."

She looked down at her hands fisted in front of her. "I'm sorry. I didna mean for things to go that far. I only meant to scare ye. I was in love wi' the lad, and ye op and marrit him straightaway when ye kent I did. How could ye be so cruel?"

"Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ! I had no choice in the matter. Truth be told, I had no plans whatsoever to marry at all. It was Dougal. He forced me, saying it would protect me from Capt. Randall. And a fat lot of good it did me.

"In any case, you need to know that your father would never allow you to marry Jamie. He is after all, still an outlaw, and at the time wasn't in his uncle's good graces."

"That wouldna mattered to me. I loved him, and now its all gone to nothin' as he's marrit to ye, and I'm stuck wi' an auld goat that Colum betrothed me to. 'Tis all your fault."

My blood was beginning to boil by this time. "My fault? Now see here, young lady, Jamie is the new Laird, and he can bloody well have you flogged for your misdeed. You can bet that he won't be lenient or step in for you this time."

Laoghaire burst into tears. "I willna bother ye anymore; I give ye my word. Only please dinna tell my father about it. He'll strap me for sure."

I pulled her to me, embracing her. She was a heartbroken little girl, who in a jealous snit did something horrendous, not realizing the consequences.  "I forgive you," I murmured. "And I won't tell a soul about this conversation."

Two maids passed us in the corridor, eyeing us curiously.

The girl drew away slowly, and wiped the tears away with the back of her hand. "Thank ye, Mistress." 

. . . . . 

Jamie stomped back and forth in our room, clearly agitated. "What d'ye want me to do 'bout it, Sassenach?"

I thought for a moment. "Well, maybe you could find her a suitable husband. The mate that Colum picked out for her apparently is old enough to be her father."

His head nodded in agreement. "Aye, she's a bonny lass, that much is true. Rupert nor Angus would object."

Rolling my eyes, I countered, "I said, a suitable husband ... a young stud, so she won't feel like she's doing penance."

His eyebrows rose to his hairline. "A stud, ye say."

"Yes, you know very well what I mean—a young, virile man."

A smile spread across his lips. "Ah, I see ... ye've forgiven her then."

"She was barely sixteen, Jamie. And she was in love with you. Loaghaire was entitled to a few mistakes at her age."

The smile vanished, and with his voice rising to the rafters, he sputtered, "Mistakes?  Och—ye nearly burned at the stake because o' the lass."

"But I believe she is truly contrite. There's no need for her to suffer for the rest of eternity over it. If she finds someone of her own to love, then she can get on with her life without looking back with regret."