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‘Does he know?’
‘No. I have told no one. How could I?’
Morag pitied Ilene. She was naive and trusting and didn’t yet know that she had been used, but she would soon enough. She took hold of her shoulders firmly. ‘We must tell your mother at once.’
‘No I cannot. She will be so distressed and she will be sure to tell my father.’
‘And then Duncan will kill the man who dishonoured his daughter if it takes the last breath in his body.’
‘He wouldn’t, would he?’
‘Your father will be sure to seek vengeance on Aidan for ruining you,’ said Morag, fighting an awful sense of dread rising up within her.
‘Am I so ruined then? Is there not some way to conceal the pregnancy?’
‘We cannot conceal it for long. Listen to me, Ilene. You will be the one blamed for this child, not its father. You alone will bear the humiliation of it and should you be forced to name Aidan as the father, he may even deny it is his and paint you a lewd woman, who was too free with her favours, with other men besides him. I have seen it happen to others, who were driven out by their family and left to destitution or worse. It will be his word against yours. And when Duncan finds out that Aidan Grant has both dishonoured and then abandoned you, there can only be one outcome, Aidan will die and then conflict with the Grants, of the most awful kind, will follow. I have already lost my husband to that kind of violence, I won’t let it happen again. No, my dear, the only way to hide your shame is to cloak it in wedlock.
‘But Aidan is gone. I have sent word begging him to come back but he will not. How can I force him to marry me?’
‘Would you even do that? Do you have the stomach for that, to get your father to drag him up the altar by the scruff of the neck and force him before a priest, on pain of death? Would that be enough for you, Ilene? No, you little fool, we must find another man, one who is willing to marry you and take your child for his own.’
‘Where are we to find such a man who would do such a thing? No one will want me now I have another man’s child in my belly, and soon it will grow fat for all to see.’
‘Ilene, of course, you don’t tell the man that.’
‘But surely he would know that the child was not his.’
‘Not if you lie with him, and soon.’
Ilene’s mouth hung open in horror. ‘I could not aunt. I could not lie with a man I did not love!’
‘You can if you have to. The alternative is much worse. You can pretend it is his, that the child came early. Men are never very observant of such things. And even if he does not accept that lie, by then it will be too late, for if he has wed you, once you bear a child, bastard or not, he must accept it. He will be considered the father of that child by all concerned. It would be a mark on his pride, and his honour, to confess he had not fathered it. He would not want folk to know it.’
‘I could not bear it and I could never sustain such a lie, and should I be found out…’
‘Take hold of your wits girl, for I know you have them. You are a Laird’s daughter, well-educated, with a fine dowry and when you are not crying and sniffing and bringing up your supper, a very lovely one. There are many men who look at you with desire. I have seen it on their faces. It is simply a matter of casting your net and catching one in it. You must dry your tears andthink.’
‘I could never do such a thing in cold blood. To deceive a man into marrying me, in such a way, would be unforgivable, a sin in the eyes of God.’
‘As is begetting a bastard Ilene,’ snapped Morag, losing patience with the girl. ‘Yes Ilene, a bastard. No matter that you are high born, to a proud clan with money and influence, your child will still bear the brand of bastard all its life. I know that my words may seem harsh, but you must face the truth. You acted the whore for Aidan Grant, a man you loved, and see where it has got you. Is it so bad to act the whore for another, to protect yourself from the consequences of that?’
At this Ilene started sobbing, and Morag was overcome with pity for her.
‘Dry your tears and think Ilene. I know my words are harsh and I do not wish to wound you, but you must listen. Your child who will be an outcast, your eternal shame and, even worse, the shame of your family. They will realise who the father is Ilene, people will puzzle it out, make no mistake, and then the consequences will be dire. Should your father attack the Grant’s now there will be a terrible outcome for both clans. When the clans are at odds men die, like my William, rotting in the ground with a musket ball through his heart, because one clan slighted another. And I feel it, my dear, every day, like a knife in my ribs. Think of what is best for the child, for your family, for your clan. You can’t be the means of causing a war.’
‘But there may be one anyway.’
‘Aye, but if it does come to that, at least it won’t be on your conscience.’
‘Could you not go to Aidan and tell him, Aunt. If he knows a child is coming he will do the right thing I am sure of it. He would not abandon me.’
Morag chose her next words carefully. ‘Child, he already has. I am sorry to tell you this but there are rumours of a betrothal. I am sure no one has spoken of it around you because they did not want to cause you pain.’
‘Who?’ Ilene asked in a voice hoarse with crying.
‘A wealthy girl, one of the Grants. If you beg Aidan to marry you now, he may still refuse, since he has already made plans elsewhere for a union, which it pains me to say, might always have been his intention. And if he knows your secret, he may not keep it to himself.’
‘I cannot believe it.’
