Read On a Highland Shore for Free Online

and dreams were warnings, he knew, that the time of his testing was at hand, the time that he’d always known in his bones would come, the time that he was born for. He would face whatever was coming. And he would triumph. There was no other choice. Change was coming, and he was ready.
    It came sooner than he’d expected, for he and Tiernan had only just returned to their stepfather’s stronghold when the summons came.
     
    Nell MacDonald hummed as she swayed her skirts, watching their shadows on the plastered wall of the room she shared with her sister. She’d grown too quickly, her mother had complained when they’d hunted for something for Nell to wear at Margaret’s wedding and found nothing was long enough, as though Nell could control her own height. Or anything about her life.
    She’d received her new gown yesterday, both skirt and overskirt of a lavender silk, and a new bodice of a slightly darker shade. Together they made an exquisite, extravagant, elegant gown. She’d been trying it on constantly ever since, proud of her growth, proud that her body was changing, that she was leaving girlish clothing behind. Margaret was marrying an important man, a man who would take Margaret to court—and perhaps her sister—and simple clothing would no longer do. And although no one had told her, she knew there’d been talk recently of her own betrothal. It was time to look like a woman. Like Margaret, who’d had all of Somerstrath busy making her new clothes, bodices of silk and side skirts held back with ribbon, a woolen cloak lined with soft fur. At last Margaret’s wardrobe was complete, and attention had been turned to the rest of the family, and Nell was most pleased.
    Margaret’s wedding was almost upon them, and her mother was all abuzz with the preparations, with trying to make her home and her family look their best for the guests. Nell had told her mother that no one would mind if things were not perfect, but her mother had irritably waved her words away and told Nell she didn’t understand. Which was certainly true. It was supposed to be a happy occasion, but one would not know it from her mother’s demeanor. Nell hoped her mother would be calmer when it was Nell’s turn to be married. Whenever that would be. To whomever that would be.
    “Watching yer skirts again, are ye?”
    Nell spun around at Margaret’s voice, then swirled her skirts again. “Laugh at me if ye will, but I’m going to enjoy it before I grow out of this one, too.”
    Margaret did laugh. “I came to tell ye that Mother’s sending me to the shielings instead of going herself.”
    Nell nodded. Every summer her mother went to the shielings, the small huts in the foothills, to check on those clansmen who lived there year-round, and to make sure the unlived-in huts were ready for the villagers who would spend their summer there, taking their children and other animals with them, fattening their cattle on the lush pastures, not returning until the Lammas feast in August. But this year Mother was heavy with child; it was only sensible that Margaret went in her stead.
    “Rignor’s going, of course,” Margaret said. “D’ye want to come as well?”
    “Oh, aye! I’d love that.” Nell smiled, delighted. A day with Margaret, away from the village, even with moody Rignor, would be wonderful.
    “Good. Now all we have to do is convince Mother. I’ll have ye try that. I dinna seem to have much success pleasing her these days.”
    Nell nodded. Their mother was sharper with Margaret than with anyone else. It was, Nell had told herself many times, simply that Mother wanted everything so perfect for Margaret. Her sister went to stare out the tiny window, her expression so serious that Nell stopped for a moment and watched her.
    “Margaret? Mother will be happier soon, when the wedding’s over and the baby’s here. She’ll be herself again.”
    “But I willna be here to see it, will I, Nell?”
    Nell felt a lump rise in her throat.