Page 2 of Highlander’s Misfit Lass

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“This looks lovely,” Lyndsay said, picking up a ripe apple. It was shining and red, almost like a huge ruby.

“Aye, Ma,” Emma said absently. She adjusted the shawl she wore over her head, trying to hide the strands of blonde hair that always poked out. Whenever people walked by, she had the strong sense that they were looking at her, always judging her for not being a true Scot. They were all pleasant enough to never say anything to her face, of course, but that didn’t stop them from thinking it behind their eyes.

“What else shall we get? I was thinking of buying something for your father, a small gift because he does work so hard for us,” Lyndsay said.

Emma cringed a little, wishing that her mother didn’t have to speak up so loudly. Despite having lived in the village for around two decades, Lyndsay had not lost her English accent at all, and it set her apart from the others in the village. Unfortunately, in Emma’s mind, it only drew attention to them, and that was the last thing she wanted.

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate it,” Emma said, but was still fiddling with her shawl.

Lyndsay fought to get her hands away from it. “Will you stop messing around with that thing? I don’t know why you’re wearing it anyway. It hides your beauty,” Lyndsay said.

Emma clamped her mouth shut, for she didn’t want to have another argument about something that had plagued her since childhood. Guilt surged through her heart, for the shade of her hair was something that she shared with her mother. It also curled when it became damp as well, but where Lyndsay let it flow freely down her shoulders, Emma tried to hide it away. There had been countless times when she had wished to have the same dark shade of hair as her father, which was also the shade shared by the women of the village.

Sometimes the last thing any child wanted was to stand out, but Emma had stood out all her life thanks to her parentage. When she was younger, the other children had teased her mercilessly about all of her differences. They mocked her mother’s English accent as well as using straw to mimic Emma’s hair, and the impressions they performed were never flattering.

Emma pulled her head away, trying to twist away from her mother’s interfering hands.

“I just like it, that’s all. It keeps me warm,” Emma said in her rolling brogue.

Lyndsay rolled her eyes and shook her head, no doubt thinking that Emma was just being difficult again.

“So what do you think we should get your father?”

“Da likes a good cheese,” Emma suggested.

“But we can get cheese anytime. I want to get him something special, something to show him that we appreciate all the work he does.”

“Well, ye hae known him longer than I,” Emma said.

Lyndsay stopped and turned toward her. “I don’t know why you’re being so petulant today, but I don’t appreciate it. You are becoming a young woman, and you must leave these childish attitudes behind. It’s hardly going to make you more appealing to a man.”

Emma was only just able to stop herself from rolling her eyes. For a couple of years now, ever since she had shed the bloom of youth and entered her womanhood, her parents had been speaking about marriage as though it was inevitable. Emma wondered if she was ever going to get a say in the matter. She was only nineteen, and as far as she was concerned, she had plenty of time left to find a husband, but her parents seemed insistent on the matter.

Before Emma could reply, they were interrupted by an unwelcome presence: David. David was the son of Hamish, one of the men who had first invited Emma’s parents to make their home in the village. David always had a smile on his face and darted about the village helping out people with various tasks. He was talented in many areas, but Emma could only remember the way he had mocked her when they were younger. If that memory existed for him then he didn’t show it, for he smiled and acted as though they were friends.

“It’s a pleasure tae see ye on such a wonderful day,” he said.

“And a pleasure to see you as well,” Lyndsay said, smiling that smile she thought was so secret, but Emma knew her thoughts plainly.

“Emma, ye are looking as pretty as the dawn taeday. Hae ye given any more thought tae my proposal? Beltane Day is fast approaching, and I was hoping that ye would accept before then sae that we can celebrate as a married couple. Imagine the celebrations!” David said, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

Lyndsay gave Emma an encouraging look, but Emma’s heart was hard. She offered a polite smile. “I appreciate yer interest, David, but my answer is the same as it haes been all the other times ye hae asked me…nay.”

David was undeterred by her rejection.

“Aye, but if I ask ye enough times then perhaps ye will change yer mind,” he said. “Ye cannae blame a man for being hopeful anyway.”

“I suppose there’s no harm in believing for the impossible tae change, but just like the tides flow and the sun rises, my answer will always be the same. There are plenty other girls for ye tae bother. I’m sure one of them will make Beltane Day one tae remember for ye,” Emma said.

“But how could I want any of those girls when I could hae ye?” David asked. “But I shall nae waste any more of yer time. I hope next time we see each other, I will hae a different answer,” David said, and moved away. When he turned his back, Emma felt the tension dissipate from her body, and she was able to breathe a little more easily.

“What are you doing, Emma? Your father and I never raised you to speak to people like that!” Lyndsay rebuked, shocked at her daughter’s behavior. She took hold of Emma’s slender arm and pulled her away from the market stalls. There were a few eyebrows that had been raised by Emma’s spiteful words, and apparently, Lyndsay had had enough.

“There’s nothing wrong with David, and you shouldn’t be so quick to decline his marriage proposal. He comes from a good family and has proven himself to be a valued member of the village. There are far worse prospects than him in the world, of that I am sure,” Lyndsay continued.

Emma sighed a little. “Ye and I hae vera different memories of him, Ma. I remember him when we were younger. He was always there, mocking me, teasing me. I dinnae want tae spend my life with a man who haes sae little respect for me. He haes nae even apologized!”