Janet

Janet lay on her back beneath the rough hewn bench. Her soft black curls falling to the floor, as she kicked her feet up, pinning baaby to the under side of the bench with her bare feet. She'd had baaby since she was one herself. Nurse had sewn her out of scraps as she watched over young Janet's cradle. Brute groaned and snuffled with his grizzled muzzle, taking it upon himself to watch Janet now that her Mother and nurse was busy with the new baby, a son and the future Laird.
No one knew she was there as the business and squabbles that her father presided over continued. Janet loved her father dearly. He was always so cheerful and playful with her, even when Nurse was cross or exasperated with her, her father never was. He was tall and strong with the 'dark Celt' look he gave to his daughter, black hair and bright cornflower blue eyes crinkled at the edges by smiles and sun. The chill of the evening was driven away by the fire burning in the great hall and the sound of her father's voice was making Janet content and almost sleepy.
Sudden the hubris of voices died away. "All out!" commanded Janet's father. Janet crawled under the table to see what was going on as the men of the land shuffled out. When the last left the hall and shut the door, all that was left was the Laird, an old knight of the land, Janet's mother, a man Janet had not see before, and the daughter of the old knight. The daughter had been crying, her red eyes brought out more by her pale freckled skin and copper hair that flashed in the firelight. Her chin stuck out defiantly, but her fear was nearly palpable.

"Robert her, has traveled down from Motherwell. He's agree to take you as his bride, Maggie", the Laird said kindly.
Maggie didn't answer still seeming to be held fast with terror and pride. "Speak up, lass!" shouted her father. "Ye, canna be choosy in your...condition!" the old knight spit the last word. Maggie gave a barely perceived nod. Her erstwhile groom, gave her a tentative smile, He was obviously many years her senior.
Janet's mother regal and straight in bearing, but with light brown, straight hair and the aquilined nose Janet bore was not many years older than the frightened bride. She whispered, "He'll be good ta ye, dear. Dinna Fret." whith that encouragement the young lady took the hand of the man she would leave with. The laird handed a small sack that jingled with coin to the one called Robert and shook his hand.
After the new couple had silently departed, the old knight turned, "I'm forever in yer debt."
"Dinna fash," said the lady. "Robert will treat her and the child vera well."
"Did she say who is to blame for her disgrace?" Asked the Laird
The old knights embarrassed and weary face grew dark, "She would only say 'twas a man in Caterhaugh." Janet's mother gasped.
"Not again."
The Laird sighed and said, " From here forth, I forbid all maidens to go by Caterhaugh!" His face was grave and angry, "If we canna rid this plague of a lovetalker from the place, the devil's own may keep it to themselves!"
At the loud and angry sounds of the exchange Brute gave a loud bark revealing their hinding place. The Lairds face softened at the sight of his precocious toddler, "What are you doing dune thar, my bonnie wee child?" extending his arms to her. Janet jumped to her feet and ran to her father's arms.