"Aye," he admitted grudgingly."But I want it to be my choice, not something forced on me like I'm a prize bull."
"And if ye could choose a woman to wed," Morna continued, "what manner of lass would she be?"
Connor was quiet for so long that Morna began to think he wouldn't answer.When he finally spoke, his voice was soft and thoughtful.
"She'd be kind," he said."And brave."He paused."Smart as well.Someone I could talk to, who could challenge me when I'm wrong.Willing to stand up for what's right even when it's difficult."
"Go on."
"She wouldn't have to be the most beautiful woman in Scotland," Connor continued, surprising himself with his honesty."Beauty fades.But she'd have to be...truthful."He looked up at Morna."Why do ye ask?"
The old woman chuckled, a sound like wind chimes."Perhaps, lad, ye've been handed exactly what ye want."
Connor frowned darkly."What do ye mean by that?"
"What did ye see when ye looked at the Finnigan lass today?"
"I saw..."He started to deflect, then growled in frustration."All right.I saw a woman who did not deserve what I said, even if none of this mess is my doing."The image of Fiona rose grudgingly in his mind."At least she did not scream or curse me when I humiliated her, which showed more backbone than I expected."
"Aye?"
"And I’ve heard mentioned she's good with sums and letters."Connor's frown remained firmly in place."But that does not change the fact that I'm being forced into this marriage, or that marrying a Finnigan goes against everything I was raised to believe."
"Enemy?"Morna set down her cup."Or friend?The marriage would end generations of unrest, would it not?"
"Aye, but—"
"And as for what ye said," Morna interrupted gently, "words can wound, but they can also heal.Ye can still make amends."
Connor was quiet, his jaw working as he turned her words over in his mind.Outside, the sun was beginning to set, painting the cottage walls with golden light.
He said finally, his voice gruff, " I suppose I owe her an apology."
"That tells me yer heart kens the difference between right and wrong, even if yer pride won't let ye admit it easily."
"Aye, perhaps.But what the bloody hell am I to do with a wife?"He grimaced.
Morna smiled knowingly."Maybe, fate will show ye how to proceed."
Connor stood abruptly, pacing to the window."It's not that simple.I didn't ask for any of this."
"It never is simple, lad.But the best things in life rarely are."
He stayed a while longer, drinking Morna's tea and brooding over her words.When he finally rose to leave, the hot anger that had driven him from the keep had cooled into something more manageable.It signaled a grudging acceptance of reality, perhaps, though his pride still chafed at the situation.
"I'll have to marry her," he said, the words coming out like a growl."There's no getting around it."
"Aye, ye will."
“I suppose I'll have to apologize for today, even though Ewan bears as much blame for not warning me properly."
"That would be the honorable thing to do."
Connor paused at the door, his hand on the latch, looking back at her with a scowl."What if she despises me already?"
Morna's smile was gentle but knowing."Then ye'll have to prove yerself worthy of her forgiveness, won't ye?"
"Aye."
