Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

A fter she dropped her horse at the blacksmith to be fitted with new shoes, Janice went to sit and talk to Queenie McBride, telling her about the antics of her brothers and some of the guests who had come to the castle.

She sighed as she spoke. "They are my brothers, Queenie, and it is my duty to love them," she said sadly, sipping a cup of ale as she spoke. "But I do not like them very much. In fact, sometimes I wish—no, I cannot say it." She had been about to say I wish they would drop dead, but refrained, afraid of what Queenie would think of her.

Queenie studied the young woman in front of her, then put her hand over Janice's on the bar. "We cannae choose our family, hen. Sometimes I am glad I am only a workin' class woman, though," she said thankfully. "We dinnae have tae worry about castles an' estates, an' we can marry whoever we like. In some ways, I have a better life than ye." She smiled sadly.

Janice smiled at her. "You are right, Queenie, but you have different problems."

"Aye, that is true." Queenie picked up a cloth and began to clean the bar, then she gazed at the woman she had come to know as her friend. "We a' have problems, hen, but ye know if ye ever need tae talk about anythin', I am here. Nothin' ye say will ever go farther than the two o' us."

"I know, Queenie, and thank you," Janice replied. She picked up the other woman's hand and kissed it, then smiled at her. There were tears in her eyes. "Thank you for being my friend."

"Pfft!" Queenie flapped a hand at her in dismissal. "Ye saved us a' fae starvin' two years ago, hen. The villagers would dae anythin' for ye."

Janice shook her head. "That was my father," she countered. "He was the cause of that triumph."

"As ye say, hen." Queenie smiled. Let Janice believe what she liked.

Both women looked up as a muscular middle-aged man came in. He was sweating and filthy, but when he smiled, his teeth, white against the black of his skin, looked like a sunbeam.

"Yer horse is ready, mistress," he announced. "Four new shoes."

"Thank you, Cameron." Janice smiled at him and dropped the payment into his hand.

The blacksmith looked at it and handed her back a shilling. "Too much, mistress," he said, laughing. Janice always added a generous tip.

Now, she gave the coin back to him and closed his fingers over it. "Buy your wife a new dress or your daughter a new doll," she told him firmly, before she ordered him a cup of ale. "Now, tell me all your news."

She sat talking to Cameron Brown and Queenie until more customers came in and the tavern began to fill up; she knew it was time to go home.

"I wish I could stay a little bit longer, but they will be looking for me," she said regretfully.

She looked so downcast that Cameron put an arm around her shoulders, marking her cream-colored shawl with a large black smear of soot.

He jumped back immediately, horrified. "I am so sorry, mistress!" he cried. He looked in his pockets for something to wipe the mark away, but every rag he found was filthy.

"Cameron, don't worry," she said soothingly. "It was an accident, and the mark will wash out. Goodbye, both of you. Cameron, I will have more work for you soon. We are buying three new plow horses at the horse fair."

She gave a little wave and tried to leave, but she had to stop for another conversation before she reached the door.

As soon as she emerged from the stables, revived by the fresh air and in high spirits, Janice headed for her bedchamber to bathe and rest for a while before dinner. What she really wanted to do was curl up in bed and daydream for a while before drifting off to sleep, but as the laird's daughter, she had no such option. She had to be with the guests.

As she was crossing the atrium, a young maidservant stopped her. "Mistress Janice, the laird would like tae see ye. He says it is important."

"Thank you, Molly," Janice replied. "By the way, how is your mother?"

Molly's mother was recovering from a fever, and the young woman had been very anxious about her. Now, however, her face brightened up.

"She is very much better, mistress, an' she sends her thanks for the medicine ye sent. I am ever sae grateful tae ye."

Janice smiled and patted Molly's shoulder, then went to see her father. When Bernard arrived, he was just in time to see the door closing behind her.

"Da? You wanted to see me?" Janice asked, as she entered the room.

Her father was sitting behind the desk, working on the estate accounts, and he looked up as she came in and gave her a warm but weary smile.

"Come in, sweetheart," he said, closing the ledger he had been writing in. He looked white and drawn, and Janice felt infinitely sorry for him.

She poured them each a glass of wine and pulled a chair close to her father's so that she could hold his hand. They sat in comfortable silence for a while, then the laird put down his glass on the desk and turned to her, smiling.

"I am so proud of you," he told her softly, lifting up her hand to kiss it. "You are the best daughter a man could have. I wish you had known your mother. She always wanted a daughter, and she would have loved you so much." He paused to wipe his eyes, which had filled with tears. "And you are so like her. She ran this household like a military camp. She was strict but fair, and all the servants loved her. She was just like you, except that you are a little gentler. I wish she could see you now."

"I wish I could see her too," Janice said sadly. They had had this conversation a hundred times, but Janice knew it comforted him, so she never complained. "Da, you asked to see me about something important. What is it?"

He smiled at her, a sad, gentle smile. "I wish I could give the lairdship to you, but I cannot. I worry about what will happen to the estate, but you know that." He gave an exasperated sigh, then took both of her hands in his and looked straight into her eyes. "But I am more worried about you. When I am gone, you will have the right to live here for as long as you live; you know that. But I want you to be happy. I want you to marry and have children and live a long and fulfilling life, as I have done. Half the reason I invited so many young men here was that you could perhaps find someone you could fall in love with. Have you seen no one?"

He looked so hopeful that Janice felt wretched at having to disappoint him. How could she say that the only man who attracted her was the guard who was sharing William's room? He expected her to marry a young laird or the son of a laird—someone with property or wealth, not a devastatingly handsome but relatively penniless guard, even though he had good connections.

"No, Da. There is no one," she said at last. "Perhaps my standards are too high, or perhaps I scare them away."

The laird laughed. "If that is the case, they are not worthy of you because you are a fine young woman."

"I think you are perhaps slightly biased, Da." Janice drained the last of her wine and made to stand up, but the laird caught her arm and bade her sit down again. She obeyed but looked at him, puzzled.

"I need your advice, which is why I called you here today," he told her. "I am going to employ a steward to work with your brothers. I don't think the estate can survive otherwise."

Janice was horrified. "Da! You do not need to do that." She jumped up and paced across his study before turning to face him. "You know that I have been acting as your steward for years. Use me. I am experienced, I love doing the work, and most of all, I love the estate. It is my home and always has been. It is so special to me, and it would never mean the same to a stranger."

The laird looked indecisive. "But what about a husband? Children?" he asked. "Surely you are not going to deny yourself all of those?"

"Da, if I ever do marry, which I think is very unlikely, it will have to be to a fair-minded man who understands the situation. If I do not find one then I will still have a roof over my head and enough to eat, clothes on my back, and people to look after me. I will want for nothing."

Laird Stewart sat back in his chair and regarded his daughter shrewdly. "You know that this would be a purely unofficial position and that whoever wins the lairdship will receive all the credit for it? You will be doing all the work for no recognition."

"So?" Janice shrugged. "Those who matter to me will know, and I don't care about anyone else. My life will go on, Da, just as it always has, and so will the castle and the estate."

"I have always been here, though," the laird pointed out. "I have done the bulk of the work, and you have done the rest. You will be doing this all on your own now. Will this not be too much of a burden?"

"If it is then I will ask the official laird to employ someone." She shrugged. "I am young, Da. I still have health and energy. Let me do this, please."

The laird frowned. "Let me think about it," he said, then brightened up. "You really must change that dress, Janice. It looks as though you have rolled over in a bog."

She giggled. "I am going to bathe before I see anyone. Please consider what I suggested, Da." She kissed his cheek and then left, leaving him to ponder.

Janice was in such a hurry to reach her bedchamber before being intercepted by one of her guests that she forgot to look where she was going and bumped into the same solid chest she had encountered the night before.

Bernard laughed as he steadied her, and as he looked down into her startled grey eyes, he said, "We really must stop meeting like this, mistress."

For a moment, Janice was mesmerized. She was so close to his face that she could have counted every bristle on his cheeks and chin and smelled the peculiar musk of his body. He had grasped her arms to steady her, and she almost felt sorry when he relaxed his grip and let her go.

"Forgive me," she said breathlessly. "This is the second time I have collided with you."

"I am not injured," he assured her, his lips twitching into a smile. "But I am so glad I bumped into you." They both smiled at his pun. "I would like to explore the countryside around here a little more, and I need someone to guide me. Could you spare one of your guards to ride with me?"

Janice shook her head regretfully. "I am afraid not. All our men are working extra time as it is. As you can imagine, there is much to be done while the castle is as full as it is at the moment. I am afraid I cannot spare anyone. I can tell you which places you should stay well clear of, though."

"Bandits?" he asked anxiously.

"Oh, no," Janice shook her head vehemently. "My father took care of that problem a long time ago. We used to have a gang of the worst kind of thug who preyed on the poor people around here, but my father infiltrated their gang and destroyed it from the inside. His reputation has spread, and we have had no trouble for years.

"No, the places I was speaking of are the marshlands that are close to the Bonnie Loch. They are treacherous, and there are patches of quicksand there." She thought for a moment. "Perhaps I should be your guide. I would welcome the chance to escape from this place for a while."

Bernard looked at the weary expression on her face. "Are you not enjoying the gathering?"

"Not one whit!" she answered angrily, then, realizing her rudeness, she sighed and said, "I am sorry, but this whole week has been such a strain. It will be good to be in the open air and sunshine."

"Then I look forward to it, mistress," he replied, bowing. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have to meet your brothers for boxing practice."

Janice rolled her eyes heavenward. "I will make sure there is a full bottle of whisky in your room for your return," she said, laughing. "You will have great need of it. Good luck!"