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The sight of the bairn, round-faced and pink, made Morna’s insides turn to jelly.
‘What a fine bairn,’ she said, taking hold of one of its chubby hands and wiggling it.
‘Aye, he’s fine alright, and he’s also fatherless, cast onto the mercy of strangers for this wretch here will not acknowledge him and said his Laird forbid him to do so.’ The woman hoisted the bairn up in her arms, sending her huge bosoms heaving upwards.’
Recognition dawned on Morna. ‘I know you, I saw you on Barra at the meeting of the clans.’
‘Well, I don’t know you. Look here, I sent word and ignored, I’ve been. You must make Waldrick wed me, else I am shamed, and his son is made a bastard.’
‘Then perhaps you shouldn’t have been so free with your, er, charms,’ Will replied.
‘What did you say?’ snarled the woman coming closer.
Waldrick held out his hands to pacify her. ‘He meant nothing by it woman, calm yourself.’
‘You can shut up.’ She turned back to Will, red-faced and outraged. ‘Doubting my honour are you, Laird Bain.’
‘I am not just doubting it, I am questioning its very existence,’ said Will and Morna detected laughter in his voice.
‘Why you whoreson! Waldrick’s fancy Bain ways, his arts and endearments made me forget my honour, and he promised that, if I lay with him, he would offer for my hand.’
‘I was drunk, and you were willing. What’s more to be said. ‘Tis not my fault, and how can I be sure that is my bairn and not some other dog’s,’ said Waldrick.
‘And if you lay with her, then you can’t be sure it is not,’ said Morna, wincing at his appalling lack of chivalry.
‘Right woman, let us get to the bottom of this,’ snarled Will. ‘What is your name?’
‘If you don’t agree to him wedding me, then my uncle will hear about this disgrace to our name,’ replied the woman, wagging a finger at him.
‘To hell with your uncle. Now, before my patience escapes me altogether, I say again, what is your name?’
‘T’is Osla, Laird. My name is Osla Cranstoun, and I am niece to Wymon Cranstoun.’
Everyone fell silent as this information sank in until Braya spoke. ‘T’will be a fell thing when it grows up, Devil’s spawn of a Cranstoun,’ she spat.
‘Who are you calling the Devil, old crone,’ snapped the woman, unbowed by their disapproval.
Will glared at Waldrick, who just looked down at his feet. He then turned to Morna with that fierce scowl of his. ‘Well this is a fine mess, is it not? What are we to do about it?’
Morna shrugged her shoulders and bit her lip to stop from laughing. ‘You are Laird here, Will. ‘Tis for you to sort out.’
Morna grabbed Braya’s arm, and they turned and walked away down the beach, but Will ran after them. ‘You two would leave me here with that fool and his harpy?’
‘You have often said these last months that you sought a way to unite the clans of the Isles and what better way than a marriage union,’ said Morna. ‘Alliances are often made in such ways, and some of them can be very successful, or so I hear.’ She went on tip-toe and kissed his cheek and then carried on walking away.
Morna’s face broke into a smile as, back down the beach, the shouting began. So much for peace and calm.
