Winter's Promise: A Festive Dark Ages Scottish Romance Novella by Jayne Castel

Author:Jayne Castel [Castel, Jayne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Winter Mist Press
Published: 2018-11-30T16:00:00+00:00

Tad found his mother sitting with the other women, preparing holly wreaths for Mid-Winter Fire, when he returned to Dun Grianan. His father was out on an overnight hunting trip with his men, and there were few folk about inside the fort; something Tad was grateful for.

He did not want to see his father right now.

A black mood plagued him as he strode into the broch and headed for the chieftain’s table, where a row of empty cups and a jug of wine sat waiting, ready for the noon meal.

Tad helped himself to a cup of wine, draining it in a few long gulps, before pouring himself another. Then, carrying it, he strode across to where Colene sat finishing a wreath, her expression serene.

Irritation surged through Tad. His whole life, his mother had been little more than a pretty shadow. She offered no opinion, rarely showed emotion, and spoke only when spoken to.

Fortrenn liked Colene that way; he had praised her for it often enough. Yet her passivity had always gotten on Tad’s nerves. Other women at Dun Grianan had a spine—why could his mother not show one? There had been plenty of times over the years when Fortrenn had plainly been wrong, when Colene should have spoken out against him. But she never had.

“Tad,” Colene greeted him with a soft smile. “Back from hunting so soon?”

“Aye,” Tad replied, his gaze shifting to the women surrounding her. They all watched him eagerly, perhaps picking up on his mood. Of course they all knew about his impending marriage to Isla. They had all witnessed his humiliation.

Tad scowled at them, and some of the women dropped their gazes. One or two of them continued to stare boldly though, not put off by his frown.

Turning his attention back to Colene, Tad met her steady, grey-eyed gaze. “Mother … will you take a brief walk with me on the walls.” He cast a dark look at the other women, who now wore wolfish expressions. “Alone.”

His mother arched her finely drawn eyebrows before giving a slow nod. “Of course. Let me get my cloak.”

A short while later two figures climbed the stone steps onto the high wall surrounding the broch of Dun Grianan: one tall, bearded, and broad-shouldered with wild brown hair; the other small and slight, huddled under a heavy fur mantle.

Tad walked alongside his mother, his gaze taking in the wide expanse around them. The waters of Loch Mealt were still and dark this morning, and the sky was pale, almost pink in hue.

“A snow sky,” Colene murmured. “Another blizzard is on its way—just in time for Mid-Winter Fire.”

Tad grunted. He cared little for the weather right now. He could not have cared less if it had started raining toads. A moment later, he sensed his mother’s gaze upon him and turned to meet her eye.

Her smooth brow was furrowed slightly, her eyes clouded. “Something troubles you, Tadhg,” she observed. “What is it?”

Tad frowned. “You know what the issue is … this impending marriage.

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