Chapter 20

CHAPTER 20

" Y ou look beautiful," Bernard said appreciatively, his gaze wandering all over Janice as she entered the parlor again. "But then you always do, Mistress Stewart."

He smiled at her, and Janice could feel herself melting, heat and moisture gathering between her legs, preparing her for something wonderful. She tried not to think of the magical evening on the turrets. But as soon as she looked at Bernard, the desire came rushing back stronger than ever.

"Thank you," she answered, stepping toward him. "Perhaps ‘lovely' is a little extreme. Better than I looked before, certainly."

"You would look lovely dressed in a sack," he assured her, grinning.

She gave him a playful slap on the arm. "Now, let us see my brother. I do not have to ask his permission, but it is a courtesy now that he is the laird. Then we can begin to make our plans."

He chuckled. "Do you have any advice for me?" he asked. "I don't want to say anything I should not."

Janice looked up at the face that had come to mean everything to her and sighed in contentment.

"Just be yourself," she advised him. "As you know, Alasdair is not what you could call fearsome, but I cannot guarantee that he will take kindly to our news. Yet I know that you can stand up to him without too much trouble."

Bernard laughed and followed her into the laird's study.

The new laird was sitting and reading a book when they entered and looked up in some surprise as he saw Bernard. His eyes widened, and he looked at his sister, a question in his eyes.

"Janice?" he asked. "Is this not Laird Ballantine's man?"

"It is indeed, M'Laird," Bernard answered, bowing. "Bernard Taggart at your service." Then he grinned. Alasdair was not half as intimidating as his father.

He stood up, and Janice gave him a challenging look. "Don't worry, Alasdair," she said as she and Bernard sat down. She took a deep breath. "Remember when Da asked me to find a good man to marry?" she asked.

Her brother nodded. "I do," he replied. He looked tense.

"Well, I have found one." Janice smiled as she jerked a thumb at Bernard. "What do you think of my choice?"

Alasdair stared at Bernard in disbelief for a moment, but Bernard held his gaze, refusing to be intimidated.

"Who are your mother and father?" he asked at last.

"My father was Alec Taggart, a brave soldier who died when I was still a small child," Bernard answered. "My mother is Moira Taggart, the cook at Benleith Castle."

"And you are not related to William Ballantine at all?" Alasdair sounded mystified. "But you go everywhere together. I thought you were cousins or some such."

Janice watched Bernard's golden-brown eyes darken.

"We are boyhood friends, M'Laird," he replied. "We have known each other since we were babies. We are not related, but we are brothers of a kind."

"And what position do you hold in the household?" Janice's brother asked, frowning.

"I am captain of the Guard, a position I earned by merit," Bernard answered stoutly.

Alasdair looked at Janice, and she could see the anger in his eyes.

"I know what you are thinking, Brother." She folded her arms across her chest and raised her chin. "That he is not good enough for me? That I could do better for myself?"

Alasdair stood up and squared his shoulders, trying to project an image of authority. "I think you and I should discuss this somewhere else, Janice." His voice was almost a growl.

Janice sighed inwardly. She could see that her brother was extremely angry, but she had never been afraid of him, and she was not now. She would not back down.

"No, Alasdair," she said firmly. "Whatever you wish to say can be said in front of Bernard. But be aware: he is the man I love, and I will marry him whether it pleases you or not. I do not need a dowry."

She looked at Bernard for confirmation, and he smiled and shook his head.

"We will either live here or at Benleith. Bernard can go back to being a guard, and I can find a position somewhere." Her tone was sure as if she had thought of a plan in advance. "Or we can stay here. Either way, Bernard and I will be married."

Alasdair studied them for a moment, his slim, beautiful sister who looked so much like their mother and the tall, handsome, powerful man who had subtly shifted closer to her to protect her or stake his claim to her. Yet he was a nobody, a member of the working class. She should be marrying a man of her own class, for heaven's sake, but he could do nothing to stop her. She was not a child.

However, as he looked at Janice's face while she gazed at Bernard, he knew that any objections he raised would be a waste of breath. Janice had always been obstinate, and now that she had love on her side, she would be immovable.

The tenderness that she felt for Bernard shone through her eyes, and he knew that if he tried to stand between her and her love, he would be cast out of her life, probably forever, and likely it would not faze her overmuch. He had not been much of a brother, after all. His father had wanted Janice to have a substantial dowry and had written it in his will. Was this man a fortune hunter? Alasdair was not brave enough to suggest such a thing.

At last, he sighed in resignation. "You will marry with or without me," he said, forcing a smile as he gazed at Bernard with narrowed eyes. Then his gaze changed, and a steely glint shone in them as he looked at the big man. "But if you hurt my sister in any way, there are a hundred guards here who will come to her defense."

Bernard blinked, astounded at Alasdair's sudden show of strength, and for the first time he felt a flicker of respect for the man. Then he smiled.

"Thank you, M'Laird, but you need not worry about Janice's welfare. I would lay down my life for her."

He sounded both thankful and resolute. When he looked down at her, Janice's eyes were full of unshed, happy tears.

"My father wanted Janice to be provided for adequately, so he settled a sum of money on her," Alasdair announced. "It should keep you and any family you have comfortable."

He named the amount, which Janice thought was too much, but she did not voice the thought. Her father had always been nothing if not generous.

Bernard shook his head. "That is far too much," he stated.

Janice put up a hand and turned him to face her. "We can put it in a trust for our children," she said softly.

"Have you made a decision about where you will live yet?" Alasdair asked.

"We will live here," Janice answered. "We have already discussed it, and it is what we both want."

"After all, you have a job to do," Bernard told her proudly.

"And you?" Alasdair asked. "What will you do?"

Bernard looked lovingly at Janice. "Whatever she wants me to," he answered simply.

Janice laughed and threw her arms around his neck. Over her shoulder, the two men looked at each other in perfect understanding. This was the woman they both loved in different ways, and both of them would do anything to make her happy.

There was to be no fuss, no great show of wealth or an elaborate ceremony, merely a simple service with an exchange of vows, which was what Janice had always wanted. She had never dreamed of the kind of wedding favored by many of her peers, where a fortune was spent on the wedding dress, decorations, and food. Janice could think of much better uses for all that wasted money, such as spending it on the community.

Accordingly, the ceremony was conducted in the castle chapel by the local minister, Reverend Morrison, an ex-soldier in his middle years who waged war against the devil with great ferocity.

The entire staff of the castle looked at Janice tenderly as they all stood outside the chapel two months later.

Alasdair was giving her away, and he was hardly able to believe that the little girl who had grown up with him was now giving herself to another man with whom she had chosen to spend the rest of her life.

He had developed a level of love and respect for his sister that took him by surprise, just as he had surprised himself in many other ways over the last few weeks. Now he considered it his responsibility to take care of the estate, and he knew that with both he and Janice working together—along with her big, strong husband—they would become one of the richest clans in the area, not to mention the happiest.

Now, he asked, "Are you sure, Janice?" His brow furrowed with concern. "Because if you have any doubts at all, there is still time to walk away."

Janice smiled at him and said firmly, "No, Alasdair. Bernard is the only man I will ever want. I am absolutely sure of that."

He nodded and kissed her hand, then they made the short trip down the aisle, where he put Janice's small hand into Bernard's big one.

"Look after her," he said gruffly, before turning away.

Bernard smiled at the protective lion Alasdair had become in the short time since his father had died. It warmed his heart.

"You look perfect," Bernard whispered as he looked at Janice's simple wine-colored velvet dress. It was not a new one; it had been worn many times before, but it was still her favorite, and it always made her feel like a queen.

He himself had brought no formal clothes, but then he had not expected to be marrying Janice. He had only brought one change of clothing with him, and the best he could do was have them laundered and pressed by one of the laundry maids. He could not even borrow clothes from one of the guards because he was so big that no one else's would fit him.

The service was very short, no more than a quick exchange of loving vows and a blessing. The minister almost glared at Bernard as he said the words "love, honor, and cherish," as though he would happily punch him if he did not keep his oaths. Janice almost laughed out loud, but she was not laughing when Bernard placed the ring on her finger and smiled at her tenderly.

It fitted perfectly, and as she gazed at it, hardly able to believe she was married, she realized that it was her mother's wedding ring, which her father had shown her when she was twelve years old.

"I now pronounce that you are husband and wife together," Reverend Morrison said with a solemn edge of finality.

When Bernard kissed Janice to seal their vows, he wanted to devour her in a frenzy of passion. He wanted to carry her away right there and then and make love to her until they both fell into a satisfied slumber. But he restrained himself, and instead, they shared a sweet, chaste kiss.

However, as he drew away from her, Janice saw in his eyes the promise of a much greater passion to come later, and she could hardly wait.

The breakfast was very simple and deliberately so since they were officially still in mourning and only close family and a few friends had been invited. The only person missing was her father, but although she felt his absence keenly, Janice knew that he would be happy for her.

Andrew had come back from his wanderings with news of his own betrothal, surprised to see that his brother had changed so much in his absence. However, they were as close as ever, and Andrew had become a little more sober and serious.

"I am happy for you, Janice," he said sincerely as he kissed her on the cheek. "And I wish you both every happiness."

"Thank you, Brother." Janice hugged him, smiling. "When is your own wedding?"

"Next summer," he answered happily.

Janice smiled at him and held up her glass of wine. "Slàinte Mhath!" she said happily. She looked at Alasdair. "Your turn next!"

Bernard's mother, Moira Taggart, whom Janice was meeting for the first time, came up to hug her. The two women had looked at each other and taken an instant liking to each other. Moira was a tall, striking woman in her middle years who was almost as well built as her son. Janice had been struck by just how alike she and Bernard were, although he lacked her stunning blue eyes, the brightest Janice had ever seen.

Now she hugged her new daughter-in-law tightly and patted her on the back. "Ye make a lovely bride, hen," she remarked, looking Janice up and down, smiling. "Welcome tae the Taggart family."

"I am so glad to be one of you," Janice answered with a glorious smile.

"An' remember, if he gives ye any bother," Moira said, poking her finger in Bernard's chest as she looked at her daughter-in-law, "come tae me. I dinnae care how big he is—I am still his mother!"

Mother and son looked at each other lovingly.

"I thought this day would never come, Mammy," he said softly. "My two best girls together. I have never been so happy."

Then his two best girls kissed him, and the sun came out from behind a cloud as if to bless them.