Meghan: A Sweet Scottish Medieval Romance (23 page)
Read Meghan: A Sweet Scottish Medieval Romance Online
Authors: Tanya Anne Crosby,Alaina Christine Crosby
C
olin Mac Brodie
was surrounded by laughter.
People were drawn to him—as Seana was—as everyone couldn’t help but be.
Watching from a safe distance, under the shade of an old elm, Seana sat nibbling on a tart she’d snatched from somebody’s window where it lay cooling. She felt guilty, but hunger had driven her to it.
Just now, the children were all ooohing and awwwing over some new dagger Colin’s da gave him. The boys were envious and the girls all properly impressed while Colin swaggered before them—as only Colin could—beaming as he sheathed the knife, then drew it from his belt.
Much as Seana would have liked to see it too, she knew better than to join them.
Sudden jeers and laughter caught her attention and she peered up to see that Lagan MacKinnon was looking in her direction. She froze. Seana didn’t like Lagan. He had cruel eyes that were full of anger and envy. And just now, they were filled with hatred, directed at Seana.
“Thief!” he shouted and threw a pebble in her direction. It skimmed the dirt and smacked the tree behind Seana and her heart beat faster.
She wasn’t afraid, she told herself.
“Ugly lame witch!” Lagan persisted.
Seana willed herself to remain calm.
They would have their fun and it would pass—as always it did. Lame in one leg as she had been born, Seana was used to the jeers. People seemed afraid of her because of her limp leg, although she didn’t precisely know why.
She held her breath as Lagan stooped to pick up another stone, for it seemed this was far more cruel than usual. She braced herself as he threw it at her, hitting her in the shoulder this time. She didn’t cry out, but tears pricked at her eyes, and she swallowed the wave of grief that rose to choke her breath away.
“Colin doesna like ye!” he said, “Go away, witch!”
Seana felt like sinking into the ground. She didn’t respond, didn’t dare.
They all turned to Colin, teasing him suddenly... about Seana.
“Marry her, Colin!” Lagan taunted, laughing cruelly as he pushed at Colin’s shoulder. “Go on and wed the ugly witch!”
Colin pushed Lagan back, and cast Seana a harried glance.
Seana swallowed.
They were only teasing him, she knew as she had oft seen them do, but she realized Colin must not like it.
“She stole that tart from your minny!” one of the girls said to Lagan, casting Seana a disgusted glance.
Lagan’s eyes narrowed upon her. “Thief!” he said. “Hobbling wart-faced hag!” He seized Colin’s dagger suddenly, and threw it in Seana’s direction, snickering maliciously. “Go and get it, Colin!”
The dagger barely missed Seana, landing at her side. She blinked, thinking it might have had her eye out.
“Damn, Lagan, ye arse!” Colin said.
“Go on—get it!” Lagan taunted. But Colin merely stood there, looking at Seana, his expression one of frustration.
Seana’s heart hammered as she met his gaze and held it... och, but he had the most beautiful blue eyes.
He was afraid to come and get his dagger, she realized. But there was no hatred in his eyes, only fear.
Were they afraid that the weakness in her leg was contagious? Seana didn’t understand, but she felt—as she had countless times in her near eleven years—like some vermin to be stamped out.
Swallowing her own fear, she reached out, taking Colin’s dagger into her hands. Amidst laugher and more jeers she stood, though it took some effort to rise to her feet. She straightened her shoulders, faced them, and then took a fortifying breath and walked toward the throng of kids, keeping her gaze fixed upon Colin for strength.
“Look, look!” another boy shouted. “The cripple can walk!”
Seana ignored the laughter and walked straight up to Colin, her cheeks stinging with warmth and her eyes burning with tears she refused to shed. She handed him his knife. His companions all gibed him fiercely, shoving him.
Colin snatched it from her.
“Where did ye get the tart?” someone asked. “Did ye steal it from Lagan’s minny like Edith said?”
Seana tried to ignore them.
They began to sing: “Colin and Seana kissing in a tree!”
“Go away!” Colin shouted at her suddenly, buckling under the pressure. “I dinna like it when you follow us, do ye hear! I dinna like you, Seana!”
Seana flinched at his cruelty, but her feet would not budge. She kept her gaze affixed to his, though she didn’t know why. Her heart felt as though it were breaking.
“Go away!” he shouted again when the din grew louder. He gave her that look—that look she couldn’t bear to see—so filled with loathing and revulsion.
This time Seana turned and fled.
“And dinna come back stupid thief!” he shouted at her back.
Seana tried to run faster, but her bad leg would not allow it. Tears coursed down her cheeks. All at once rocks began to fly at her back, but she didn’t dare turn to see who had cast them. One hit her in the back of the head, and she cried out, more in fear than in pain. Stunned, she did turn to look then, and met Colin Mac Brodie’s gaze. He was standing there with a strange expression upon his face.
Why?
How could ye do it?
She had only dared to love him—as everybody else did.
His companions all laughed at her, shouting names, but he simply stood there, looking at her, and in that instant, Seana believed she hated him.
She turned and fled again, running until she could run no longer... running until she heard her name on the wind.
“Seana!”
She turned to see Broc Ceannfhionn had followed her. Seana stumbled to the ground, tripping over her bad leg. Frustrated, she sat and wept... and Broc came hesitantly and sat beside her.
Broc Ceannfhionn was older than she was, older than Colin as well, though she didn’t think by much.
“He didna mean it,” Broc defended his friend. He was not the least out of breath like Seana was. “’Twas Lagan’s fault to be sure.”
Seana didn’t care. She began to sob in earnest.
“Och,” he exclaimed, and reached out awkwardly to hug her. “Dinna pay Colin any heed, Seana. He isna so bad.” He wiped away her tears. “Dinna cry,” he begged her.
For Broc, Seana tried not to cry, but if she lived a thousand years, she didn’t think she could ever forget that look upon Colin Mac Brodie’s face... the sound of his laughter. If Broc were to look at her that way, as well, she thought she would die.
She peered up at the awkward giant and he smiled down at her. Seana wiped her face with her sleeve.
“Ye know how it is when you’re with friends,” he tried to explain, giving her a sympathetic look. “He didna mean any of it, Seana.”
Seana shook her head. “I have no friends.”
“Aye, ye do,” Broc said. “Ye have me.”
Before today, the two of them had rarely spoken.
Seana blinked, and he nodded at her, as though to assure her it was true.
“
You
will be my friend?”
He nodded again, more resolutely. “And if ye should need me, only call,” he said. “Dinna suffer their taunts any longer. Come and tell me, Seana, and I’ll give them a bloody nose for their efforts.”
Seana smiled. “Truly?”
He nodded. “Truly.”
He was the only one who had ever dared call himself her friend. “You will not regret it, Broc Ceannfhionn. I swear that one day I will find a way to repay you!” She threw her arms around him, daring to hug him with gratitude.
“Och, Seana, ye dinna have to repay me.” He pried her away, chucking her beneath the chin. “That bonny smile is thanks enough.” He winked at her.
Her heart quickened and her cheeks heated, but she smiled shyly up at him. And in that instant, Seana truly thought she loved him. Someday, she swore to herself... it didn’t matter that he said she did not have to... someday... she didn’t know when or how, but she was going to find a way to show Broc Ceannfhionn how much this meant to her.
Someday...
T
he Highland Brides
G
uardians
of the Stone
Highland Storm
T
he Medievals Heroes
T
he Impostor Series
R
edeemable
Rogues
A
nthologies
& Novellas
Married at Midnight
R
omantic Suspense
T
ANYA ANNE CROSBY’S
novels have graced numerous bestseller lists including the New York Times and USA Today. Best known for stories charged with emotion and humor, and filled with flawed characters, her novels have garnered reader praise and glowing critical reviews. She lives with her husband, two dogs and two moody cats in northern Michigan.
A
LAINA CHRISTINE CROSBY
is the daughter of New York Times bestselling novelist Tanya Anne Crosby. After acquiring her major in English and film studies from the College of Charleston, Alaina went to work as a copywriter and editor while raising her two boys and pursuing her own writing career. Alaina lives in Charleston, South Carolina, with her husband and children.
