Page 48 of The Laird's Secret Bairn

She had thought about it for the better part of the night, and the only thing that came to mind was a competition.

“A competition,” she said.

Lily puffed out her cheeks. “I like that, but what type of competition?”

“I didnae get that far in me planning yet.”

She clapped her hands together. “Daenae worry, Skye. I’ll think of something.” She paced up and down the hall in front of her bedroom, trying to think of something. She gasped suddenly, giving a twirl. “I ken! We can do a singing competition!”

“A… singing competition?” Skye asked carefully. “I suppose… that’s an option.”

Lily nodded. “Aye, and ye can compete too!”

Skye paled. “Lily, are ye sure ye want me to compete?”

Lily nodded again, excited.

A singing competition was perfectly fine for the animals, but not for Skye. She was not a very good singer. She was tone-deaf, as Freya often lovingly pointed out, and her voice alone might prevent the birds from nesting here for the rest of the season.

Lily pleaded with her, pushing out her lower lip and clasping her hands tightly together in front of her. The wee lass wanted her to join in the fun, regardless of her singing skills.

“Alright, I will. But I must warn ye, I am nae a very good singer,” Skye relented with a sigh.

Lily shrugged. “Grandmaither isnae a good singer either, but it’s never stopped her!”

“Then I suppose that settles it!” Skye exclaimed weakly. “I’ll be competing alongside Blossom and yer new baby goat.”

She had never claimed to be a singer, but that hardly seemed to matter as she stood before Lily, the kitten, and a rather unimpressed goat, clearing her throat with far more confidence than the moment warranted.

She looked around, grateful there was no one else there. The one person she did not want to bear witness to this humiliating ritual was Dougal. He would find this ever so amusing. For her sake, it was best if he stayed far away.

It was the only way to avoid utter humiliation.

They headed out to the gardens where Lily insisted the competition should be held.

“Right. The rules are simple. Each of us sings a verse, and I decide the winner,” Lily exclaimed with glee.

Before Skye could respond, she heard footsteps. When she turned to look she saw that Kenna was walking up to them.

Once she was close enough, Skye noticed that she was barely able to contain her laughter. “I think that sounds fair.”

Skye flushed. “Lady Kenna, it’s nae fair for ye to be left out of the competition.”

“Oh nay, this competition is for ye and Lily. I fear I am far too old to compete, isnae that right, Lily?”

Lily giggled. “Aye, Grandmaither.”

Skye opened her mouth to protest that logic, but Lily interrupted before she could. “The goat is going to be excited to sing.” She bounced on her toes, cradling Blossom against her chest.

“The goat,” Skye said solemnly, “will sing whether we ask her to or nae. That’s how goats are. They cannae help themselves. It is simply the animal in them.”

As if summoned, the goat let out a long, indignant bleat.

Lily dissolved into giggles, nearly dropping the kitten in her delight.

Skye thought the goat sounded much better than she did. When she attempted to sing, it might flee into the nearby hills. Lily would be distraught to lose it. And it would be entirely Skye’s fault.

Yet another reason she should never sing!