“Sister, ye are hidden between the trees,” Emilea gasped as if Sophia didn’t know already.
“Wait till Father finds out,” Lorena threatened. “He may imprison ye in a tower for the remainder of the year. Ye ken ye shouldn’t go this far. We were allsoworried!”
Sophia hushed them. “I was simply collecting these herbs—ye shall nae mention anything to father.”
Lorena caught sight of the basket her sister was holding. “Perhaps ye want to give make those little sachets for yer clothes like Ma showed us?”
“Or perhaps ye wish to gift them to a lad ye fancy, sister?” Emilea suggested, earning her a scoff from Sophia. Her little sister reached out to push back the strands of ginger hair that blew into her blue eyes.
Sophia had always envied her mother and sisters’ long, red hair. They had clear blue eyes that could be compared to the purest seas, and thin, lithe figures that only made themmorebeautiful.
Nature had only seen fit to bless Sophia with long hair, but hers was raven black. And her eyes were almost as dark. She was short too, a little frumpy.
It wasn’t that she hated the way she looked, for she had great confidence in her other qualities. “But a lass, they say, cannae have it all,” she would often mumble when she caught sight of herself in the river or in a looking glass.
Some days, she had great difficulty blending in with her family and would only spend such days alone, buried in her books or searching through the fields to discover new herbs. Neither of her sisters shared such interests.
“These beautiful cuttings I hold are healing herbs,” she said. “They ease many types of illnesses and inflammation when taken as tea.”
Her sisters looked at her hands in bewilderment.
“Ye can sniff them, if ye like.” She shoved the basket toward them.
Lorena scooped at the air. “Aye, they have a nice smell, sister, but ye will not stall us for all time. Lest I forget, Father seeks yer presence.”
“Whatever for?” Sophia asked.
“I dinnae ken, to be honest. He is just returned from Laird MacNeil’s keep, and he asked that everyone be gathered,” Lorena answered. “We came to find ye before Father came himself, because then ye’ll be in trouble.”
Sophia motioned for her sisters to take the lead. “Let's go home, then. He must be expecting our arrival already.”
Her sisters gathered beside her, placing her in the middle and linking arms. They beamed as the chilly air rushed over them, their petticoats dragging along the tall grass.
“Good morn, I heard ye requested my presence, Father,” Sophia greeted as she walked towards him.
“Aye, my sweet bairn. Gather everyone in the hall for there is news I must share,” Angus ordered.
“I shall get to it.” Sophia nodded and left, wondering about the nature of said news.
The family gathered in the hall before long, little whispers filled the air as they all made predictions about what their father had to announce.
“It pleases me to tell ye that we will be attending a feast at Laird MacNeil's keep in a few days,” Angus said, turning to them excitedly. “The Laird has graciously extended his invitation to us as he held council today on the matter of the harvest.”
“And why, dear, are we required to be present?” One needed not be told that the tall, ginger-haired woman was Sophia's mother. Her two red-headed daughters were the picture of her.
“The young Laird seeks a lass to wed,” their father said.
“So not a feast, but a market. And all the lasses of the clan are to attend, are they?” the lady asked further. “Which of our daughters will be best suited for the Laird?”
“I have two daughters who are of age to find suitors, and mayhap the Laird shall choose one of them, my love. It shall gladden my heart to give one of them as wife to the Laird.”
The sisters turned to face each other, and the dining room swelled with chatter as Angus finished his announcement. Emilea smiled mischievously as she prodded Sophia in the ribs. “I'm sure the Laird will pick ye, sister.”
“Stop it, Emilea. Ye cannae be sure.” Sophia turned away to hide her flushed cheeks.
“Have ye forgotten, my dove?” Her mother stood in front of them, beaming “Ye two were closest friends since ye were young, and he wouldn’t want another lass over ye—I ken it. There is a great chance our eldest will finally be wed!”
“Do ye nae ken, Mother?” Lorena broke her silence. “He has been chilly with the clan members for years. It’s better to pick naeone!”