The Courtship of the Glen by Michelle Deerwester-Dalrymple

Author:Michelle Deerwester-Dalrymple
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Six: A Second Chance for a First Impression

C

olin’s father did not find Colin’s interest in the strange, mystic lassie problematic. Frankly, Alpin was ecstatic his son found a woman who kept him confounded and tempered the fire of youth that burned in his belly. Fighting was necessary, even beneficial, when it served a purpose, but violence for violence’s sake did not. Did we want to be like the wayward English? Alpin always asked.

Knowing how to fight, to stand up to a challenger, to wield a dirk and a broadsword, aye, these were a part of Highland life. But his father was right — far too often Colin used his fists instead of his head and used them far too hard. He didn’t scuffle with his kin; he abused them, and such behavior not becoming of the chieftain to be.

‘Twas as if a flame of light brightened in his head, fathoming what he could not see ‘afore. He was to serve a greater purpose, and a Laird had to earn his clan’s respect. The words of the raven-haired lass replayed in his mind: Ye are nay deserving of respect from me.

Perchance no’ yet. But his actions in the village, and his much better tempered behavior as of late, those were the right start to earning her respect. With steadfast intentions, Colin decided to show the lass his true worth. He had a larger problem presently, however.

He didn’t even know her name.

***

Resolving to rectify his problem, he walked the same path as he had the fateful day he first encountered her — a dark fairy in a bright wood — and wandered in the fog until he emerged at her cottage. Pulling himself up to his full height, he patted at his trews and his tunic, and ran his fingers through his slightly matted hair. Mayhap he should have put it in a queue.

Questioning himself on her doorstep also made him aware he did no’ bring a gift. Wasn’t a man supposed to bring a gift when courting a lass?

And was that what he was doing? Courting her? He shook his head. Aye, he had to admit it. He was hoping to court the strange, bonny lass whose name he didn’t know. Josiah would say he’d lost his head, but the look on his father’s face when Colin left after the noon meal told him that his actions were not all that foolish.

Crouching near the edge of the pathway, he selected several early crocuses and thistle into a paltry offering of flowers. Returning to the door, he took a deep breath and knocked.

Caitir opened the door enough to peek one sky-blue eye out. She reminded him of everything beautiful of spring, and he thrust the flowers at her eye.

“Hello, lassie,” he started, finding his voice. “I was wondering if ye would care to invite me inside, so I may converse with ye in the presence of your grandmother.”

Oh, he sounded pathetic. He had naught courted ‘afore. Is this what one did, in courtship?

Caitir didn’t move from her space behind the door and continued to stare.

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