Zala made a good match, Tala’s
settled in her career and so is Hilla I suppose but marriage isn’t
the only solution. I don’t see why he’s got to fling us in the path
of every rich and eligible bachelor who stays here. I don’t want a
husband; I just want things to stay the way they are.”
“You sound like
Zilla.”
“I don’t think
Zilla thinks like that any more. She used to but even she accepted
Hilla’s departure better than I did. She would be happy with a
husband.”
“What do you want Rilla? Don’t say to be a stable hand, your father won’t
hear of it. You don’t want the Garda; you don’t want to teach; you
don’t want an apprenticeship like Tala.”
“No,” admitted
Rilla.
“Well, the
alternative is marriage and now you’re telling me you don’t want
that either.”
“I want to stay
here and run the stables,” cried Rilla passionately. “Why can’t you
and father understand?”
Zanda gazed at
her recalcitrant daughter with exasperation.
“That is not an
option,” she said as she ushered Rilla out of the dining chamber.
“We’re finished here. Go and help Zilla and remember to keep a
pleasant face whilst the Anders party are here.
“I’ll do it,”
growled Rilla as she flounced out, head held high, “but it doesn’t
mean that I have to like it.”
So it was as
she came out into the hallway that she came face to face with a
stranger, a tall handsome young man of about twenty who gazed at
her with interest and not a little admiration as she ducked past.
When Rilla’s ire was up she became more than a good looking girl
and uncommonly pretty.
The next
morning Rilla woke at her usual early bell and glanced over to
where Zilla lay sleeping, her blond hair tumbling round her face in
an areole of curls.
Rilla had a lot
to think about. Who would have thought that it should be her the eldest son of Councillor Horatio Anders was interested in and
not her pretty sister?
What a
mess.
Rilla sat up.
For the first time in years she didn’t scramble into her clothes
and go out to the stables to take Lightfoot for a ride before
breakfast chores. Rilla needed to think.
She had seen
the young man looking at her the previous evening as she went about
her evening tasks but had not taken much notice at first. Later on
she began to feel uneasy. Not only his eyes had begun to
follow her around, but also those of his father and later, all of
the Anders family. No matter where she went, what she did, someone
(usually the young man she had met in the corridor), was
watching.
To cap it all,
as she and Zilla had been getting ready for bed, their mother had
arrived at the bedroom door, fair bursting with the news that
Councillor Horatio Anders had spoken to their father asking
permission for his son to start to pay court-suit to Rilla with the
intention of marriage if the two found themselves to each others
liking. They had, Zanda had informed the horrified Rilla, even
discussed the dochter (dower portion) that her father would be
willing to promise.
Zanda had
ignored Rilla when she had tried to protest and left with the
information that Councillor Horatio Anders and his family were to
stay on at the inn for another two days and nights and that Rilla
had better behave herself or her father would have something to
say. Her father had arranged that she was to go riding with Julean
Anders (Rilla had laughed aloud at the name) at Third Bell.
Rilla had gone
to sleep last night her head in turmoil. How could she get out of
the ride?
It was the law
of Argyll that no person, male or female could be forced into a
marriage not of their liking. In practice, although this held true
with the poorer people, those who had reached a certain position in
society, be it wealth or political standing did, more often than
not, arrange marriages for their children. Rilla’s elder sister
Zala had become betrothed to her husband after a scant tendays
acquaintance. That marriage had been a success but Rilla knew
settled in her career and so is Hilla I suppose but marriage isn’t
the only solution. I don’t see why he’s got to fling us in the path
of every rich and eligible bachelor who stays here. I don’t want a
husband; I just want things to stay the way they are.”
“You sound like
Zilla.”
“I don’t think
Zilla thinks like that any more. She used to but even she accepted
Hilla’s departure better than I did. She would be happy with a
husband.”
“What do you want Rilla? Don’t say to be a stable hand, your father won’t
hear of it. You don’t want the Garda; you don’t want to teach; you
don’t want an apprenticeship like Tala.”
“No,” admitted
Rilla.
“Well, the
alternative is marriage and now you’re telling me you don’t want
that either.”
“I want to stay
here and run the stables,” cried Rilla passionately. “Why can’t you
and father understand?”
Zanda gazed at
her recalcitrant daughter with exasperation.
“That is not an
option,” she said as she ushered Rilla out of the dining chamber.
“We’re finished here. Go and help Zilla and remember to keep a
pleasant face whilst the Anders party are here.
“I’ll do it,”
growled Rilla as she flounced out, head held high, “but it doesn’t
mean that I have to like it.”
So it was as
she came out into the hallway that she came face to face with a
stranger, a tall handsome young man of about twenty who gazed at
her with interest and not a little admiration as she ducked past.
When Rilla’s ire was up she became more than a good looking girl
and uncommonly pretty.
The next
morning Rilla woke at her usual early bell and glanced over to
where Zilla lay sleeping, her blond hair tumbling round her face in
an areole of curls.
Rilla had a lot
to think about. Who would have thought that it should be her the eldest son of Councillor Horatio Anders was interested in and
not her pretty sister?
What a
mess.
Rilla sat up.
For the first time in years she didn’t scramble into her clothes
and go out to the stables to take Lightfoot for a ride before
breakfast chores. Rilla needed to think.
She had seen
the young man looking at her the previous evening as she went about
her evening tasks but had not taken much notice at first. Later on
she began to feel uneasy. Not only his eyes had begun to
follow her around, but also those of his father and later, all of
the Anders family. No matter where she went, what she did, someone
(usually the young man she had met in the corridor), was
watching.
To cap it all,
as she and Zilla had been getting ready for bed, their mother had
arrived at the bedroom door, fair bursting with the news that
Councillor Horatio Anders had spoken to their father asking
permission for his son to start to pay court-suit to Rilla with the
intention of marriage if the two found themselves to each others
liking. They had, Zanda had informed the horrified Rilla, even
discussed the dochter (dower portion) that her father would be
willing to promise.
Zanda had
ignored Rilla when she had tried to protest and left with the
information that Councillor Horatio Anders and his family were to
stay on at the inn for another two days and nights and that Rilla
had better behave herself or her father would have something to
say. Her father had arranged that she was to go riding with Julean
Anders (Rilla had laughed aloud at the name) at Third Bell.
Rilla had gone
to sleep last night her head in turmoil. How could she get out of
the ride?
It was the law
of Argyll that no person, male or female could be forced into a
marriage not of their liking. In practice, although this held true
with the poorer people, those who had reached a certain position in
society, be it wealth or political standing did, more often than
not, arrange marriages for their children. Rilla’s elder sister
Zala had become betrothed to her husband after a scant tendays
acquaintance. That marriage had been a success but Rilla knew
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