Chapter 16

CHAPTER 16

A lasdair had done a good job of supervising the buying of some new heavy horses for the estate, and Janice thought that privately there was some hope for him. He seemed to have settled down a little and become a trifle less flighty and self-centered as soon as he felt the weight of the lairdship dropping onto his shoulders. Perhaps they had not made a mistake after all.

"He is doing quite well, Da," she told Laird Stewart. "I think it will take a little time, but he seems to be taking much more interest in the estate than he used to."

Her father smiled weakly. "I always thought he might when the time came," he said hoarsely. He reached for her hand and caressed her fingers for a moment before saying, "Janice, I would like to see you settle down with a good man before I go." His eyes were pleading. "It would mean so much to me. I would like to see you happy because it would make me happy too."

"Da, I am not looking for marriage. I have seen so many unhappy ones." She shook her head. "I am sorry, but I don't want or need a husband, and I will not be forced into being someone's wife against my will. Anyway, out of all those men there, there is not one that I would have even taken as a gift."

"Not even for me?" the laird wheedled. "There are many honorable young men out there who would be only too willing to wed you, and you know that I will settle a substantial dowry on you. I have so little time left, Daughter." His eyes were pleading with her.

Janice was suddenly furious. He had backed her against a wall by working on her one weakness. She would do anything for him, and he knew it, so he was using the power of her love for him against her.

"I suspect that there are many so-called ‘honorable' young men out there who will fall deeply in love with my dowry. I will not do it, not even for you, Da."

There, she had said it…and she felt wretched.

The laird sighed, and his face seemed to sag as he looked at her in disappointment and then turned away from her.

"So be it, then, Janice," he said, so faintly that she could hardly hear him.

Guilt swept over her at once, just as the laird had intended, no doubt. She took his hand and kissed it. She was defenseless against her love for him and her pity. How could she let him die without even trying to make him happy?

"I will see whoever you like," she said resignedly. "But Da, if I do not like him, I will not marry him."

"I understand," he agreed, smiling as he kissed her hand. "You are a good girl, Janice. Thank you."

Was there a hint of triumph in his eyes?

And so it was that on a wet and miserable day in the middle of summer, a coach carrying James Aitken, the son of Laird Angus and Lady Fiona Aitken, rolled into the courtyard of Howdenbrae Castle. He was greeted by Alasdair, who bowed courteously and held out his hand to the other man to grip it tightly since his father had told him that a weak handshake made a bad impression.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance, M'Laird," James said politely, smiling at Alasdair.

Although her father had passed the title onto Alasdair as soon as he became bedridden, Janice's brother had not yet become accustomed to being called ‘M'Laird.' He was slightly dumbfounded for a moment before saying, "And yours, sir." Despite everyone's opinion of him, Alasdair had grown to appreciate his sister and her happiness was important to him. Clearly, if his father, a man of sound judgment, had selected this man to be her suitor, then he must have seen some worth in him.

Alasdair looked the other man up and down for a moment, assessing him. He was a tall man, not exactly handsome, but with blue eyes set in a pleasant, open face. His hair was dark brown, the same color as his and Janice's, and he had an upright, shoulders-back stance and an air of assurance about him that was entirely unconscious. A military man, he thought.

"Come and meet my sister," Alasdair said as he led the other man into the parlor where Janice was standing, looking out of the window. She turned as the two men entered, and their gazes locked.

For a few moments, James looked stunned before his face broke into a wide smile.

Alasdair introduced them briefly before excusing himself. He gave his sister a warning look. They had arranged that he would stand outside the door just in case James had any ugly ideas like forcing a kiss on her or worse. He had become very protective of late.

Janice was relieved to see that the man her father had chosen for her was at least not ugly, which at first had been her worst nightmare. Now all she had to do was to find out if he was ugly inside. Unfortunately, there did seem to be something about him that she instinctively disliked. She could not put her finger on it, but perhaps it had something to do with the fact that his gaze lingered too long on her breasts, he wrung his hands all the time, and rarely met her eyes. He made her feel distinctly uneasy, but she decided not to judge him too harshly and too quickly. He was no doubt as nervous as she was.

Janice stood up to pour her guest a glass of wine, but when she turned to give it to him, he was standing right behind her, and she gave a frightened squeal, almost dropping the glasses. However, he took them out of her hands and smiled at her. Although he tried to hide it, there was a glint of something predatory in his eyes.

"I am so sorry," James said. "I did not mean to startle you."

"Perhaps you should have stood a little further away, then." Janice glared at him, then nodded in acknowledgment of his apology and sat down, but unfortunately, he chose to sit uncomfortably close to her on the same seat.

"Your father says you are very good at running the estate," he began.

"I am not doing it alone," Janice corrected him. "My father is the laird, and we work together."

"But your father will die soon," James observed, sipping his wine.

Janice did not like his tone. His bald statement was true, but he had said it with no hint of sympathy or gentleness, even though he must have known that her heart was breaking.

"That is unfortunately true," she acknowledged, "but my brother is still here. Between us, we will manage."

"Could your brother do it without you?" James asked curiously. "Because my wife would, of course, come to live with me, but I have heard that your brother Alasdair is not a very good laird."

"And who told you that?" Janice demanded, her eyes darkening with anger as she turned to look at him.

"It is common knowledge," he said casually, shrugging. Again, his words had no feeling at all.

Janice took a deep breath to calm herself down. James Aitken had once more stated his opinion with utter heartlessness. Alasdair might have been reluctant to take up the mantle of lairdship, but he was learning, and no one had the right to speak of him that way. Janice tried to swallow her anger.

"That is a rather insulting thing to say to a member of his family, is it not?" she asked. "I have heard that your sister Thomasina had a child out of wedlock." She raised her eyebrows.

"That is entirely different!" James cried, jumping to his feet and glaring down at her. "She was seduced by a much more experienced older man. She was an innocent young girl."

"She was twenty-one, a year older than I am," Janice pointed out. "I agree that she was innocent and not to blame if she was kept ignorant, but do you see how much it hurts when a member of your close family is insulted?"

James glared at her, then his face softened. "You are right," he said quietly. "I am sorry."

Janice sipped her wine, studying him. He had an air of defeat about him suddenly, and she knew at that moment that she was dealing with a personality much less forceful than her own. She could walk all over him and not even notice.

"And who runs your estate? Your father?" she asked.

"We have a very competent steward," he replied.

"And if I went to live at your home in Rosbreck Castle," Janice mused, "what would I do all day?"

James shrugged. "Whatever ladies do all day," he replied carelessly.

Janice stared at him in disbelief. "So you expect me to knit? Needlepoint? Perhaps learn to play a musical instrument? Draw?" She took a step away from him, then threw back her head and laughed uproariously. "I think you have the wrong woman, sir. I prefer a life of hard work to one of idleness. I prefer to wear working women's clothes, not evening gowns. Find yourself someone else. I wish you luck and all the happiness in the world—with another woman."

Janice turned on her heel to walk out, but James's voice, and the desperation in it, stopped her. Facing him again, she frowned, then raised her eyebrows in a question.

"I am sorry… I am afraid I have been very rude and unkind," he said awkwardly. "I have not been entirely honest with you."

Janice crossed her arms in front of her chest and looked at him inquiringly.

"Our estate is in very bad shape," he confessed. "I need some capital so that we can begin to repair it because it has been neglected for a long while. But in case you think I am only concerned about your dowry, please believe me when I say that I could never live with someone I could not like and respect. I-I think I could like you, and I am sure you could feel the same about me, given time. I promise that I would be the best husband you could wish for."

He looked at the floor, twisting his hands nervously, and when he raised his head, he looked into a pair of eyes that were as hard as slate.

Janice felt contempt rising inside her like vomit, and it was all she could do not to spit at him. She hated weak men.

"No," she said firmly, shaking her head. "That will never happen. As I said, I wish you luck in your search, but you will not be marrying me. Goodbye."

With that, she marched out of the room and never saw James Aitken again.

"Da, I am sorry, but I cannot marry that man," Janice announced, collapsing onto the chair beside his bed.

The laird gave a wheezy sigh. "Then I will find someone else for you," he said wearily.

"But I don't want to marry!" Janice protested. "I want to stay here and help to look after the estate. Da, I have no other ambition."

"But I do," her father said firmly. "There is a young man out there for you. It is a woman's destiny to marry and have children, Janice. It is part of God's plan."

Janice sighed. Privately, she thought that God made many mistakes, and she was about to give her father her opinion on the matter, but when she looked into his rheumy grey eyes, her heart melted. She knew that he only had days left. Why could she not try to keep him happy for the short time he had left?

She reached out to clasp his hand, then she stroked his face gently, and a short time later, he was asleep. She pulled the coverlet up to his chin, poked the fire, and put on some more wood. Then, with one last glance at his dear face, she left, closing the door carefully.

"How is he?" Alasdair asked as he came walking toward her. "I was just coming to see him."

Janice sighed and put a hand over her eyes. "Not good," she answered huskily.

Alasdair studied her for a long moment, then awkwardly, he put his arms around his sister.

Janice, taken by surprise, stiffened, then relaxed in her brother's embrace. "It has been a very long time since you hugged me," she remarked, laughing.

Alasdair sighed as Janice's arms went around his waist. "A brother can hug his sister once every five years or so, can he not?" he asked with a chuckle.

They stood in one another's embrace for a short while before he pulled away. "I have been thinking." His tone was sober for once as he led her into the parlor and sat down. "Seeing Da this way has made me realize what a fool I have been. I have been wasting my life playing when I should have been growing up, and watching you has made me feel ashamed. I have decided to learn how to be a proper laird…if you will help me."

"Of course I will," she answered warmly. "Da will be thrilled, and so am I. I do love you, my brother, and I am so proud of you."

Alasdair looked astonished for a few moments, then he laughed. "I am so glad one of us is!" he said ruefully.