Chapter 15

Tense silence engulfed the room as Hugh took the documents and began to read. Jenny noted that Reid was frowning thoughtfully as he looked at Phaeline again, but Phaeline's expression was indecipherable. Dunwythie watched Hugh.

He read fast, and Jenny could judge nothing by his expression. She did think, when he set aside the first page, that his movements lacked their usual lithe grace.

She was wishing she could know what he was reading when he glanced at her and reached for the sheet of vellum he had put aside.

Without comment, he handed it to her and went back to his reading.

Seeing Phaeline's lips press tightly together, Jenny did not look at Reid. Determined to conceal any reaction she might have, she began to read.

By the end of the page, she knew why no one had discussed the settlements with her. Knowing she could not trust herself to speak without losing control, she suppressed her anger, set the sheet aside, and accepted the second one from Hugh.

Reminding herself again of his advice not to let them see that they had disconcerted her—surely, such advice applied to fury even more than to disconcertion—she kept her mind focused on the words.

It occurred to her abruptly that as Hugh was Reid's brother, and Phaeline's, family duty might stir him to approve their acquisition of the Easdale estates, and the barony title, as well. He was, after all, head of their family.

Deciding she had no need to read more, she looked at him.

He was still reading. When she saw a muscle twitch in his jaw, she inhaled deeply and relaxed, not realizing until then that she had been holding her breath.

He lowered the pages he still held and looked at Dunwythie.

"I will be civil enough to accept your word that you thought you were acting in her ladyship's best interest," Hugh said. "However, we will have to renegotiate these settlements, and she will take her full part in that discussion."

Looking bewildered, her uncle said, "Surely not the whole thing! Which particular agreements concern you, Sir Hugh?"

Impatiently, Hugh said, "Guardian or not, Dunwythie, you do not have any right to sign away her estates, let alone to sign away her inherited title."

Jenny detected a hard edge to his impatience. Looking at Phaeline and Reid, she knew that Phaeline at least had also recognized it and knew Hugh was angry.

He went on, "Imagine, sir, if some well-meaning but ignorant person were to do this to the lady Mairi after you died. Would you want that to happen?"

"Sakes, I should hope that her guardian would choose her husband carefully and then do exactly as I did." Dunwythie said. "I selected Reid because I could be sure of advising him and keeping an eye on things. Mairi will likewise need good counsel. She has no knowledge whatsoever of how to manage my estates!"

"Then it is your duty to teach her," Hugh said.

"That is quite unnecessary," Phaeline said testily. "Janet's father never remarried or had a son, but my lord husband will soon have a proper male heir, God willing. You speak most prematurely of training Mairi for the position, sir."

"Do I? Mairi is eighteen and still has no brother. She deserves the same careful training that Jenny received from her father, training that Jenny must have described to you both. I'd wager the late Lord Easdale mentioned that training in his will, too. He seems to have thought of most things she might need to protect her."

For the first time, Lord Dunwythie looked flustered. "I own, I did not read the entire will. Once I saw that I was to be her guardian…" He spread his hands.

"You assumed you'd take full control. Do you have a fair copy of his will?"

"Aye, sure," Dunwythie said. "I expect you'll want to see that, too, now."

As Hugh nodded, Phaeline said testily, "That, too, is unnecessary. Look here, Hugh. You take too much upon yourself."

"Peace, my love," Dunwythie said gently. "You upset yourself to no purpose. Hugh is right about the will. Mayhap he is also right about teaching Mairi. It can do no harm, after all, and may even help her find a husband."

" 'Tis only practical to teach her," Hugh said. "We all know how abruptly an unexpected death can change the lives of everyone it touches. Indeed, sir, you should teach both of your daughters. Thanks to years of strife and battle here in the Borders, many of our women have inherited titles in their own right. And, despite the present truce, such strife could reoccur at any time. Therefore—"

"I see what it is," Reid snapped. "You're afraid that I'll own more land than you do, and an older barony. That would give me precedence, and you have always resented me! You and Father just wanted to rid yourselves of me. Only Phaeline—"

"That will do," Hugh interjected in a tone that brooked no argument.

"But no woman can manage estates as well as a man can," Phaeline put in swiftly. "You must know that, Hugh. In troth, you should support Reid's claim."

"You astonish me, Phaeline. I'd expect you of all people to agree that a well-trained woman must be a better manager than an untrained man. Has anyone trained Reid, or is his sex alone enough recommendation for the task, in your opinion?"

"If anyone should have trained him, it is you!" Phaeline said waspishly.

"I should have, aye. But Thornhill is not on the moon, and having accepted your insistence that you knew what was best for him, I left him to you. Moreover, as far as I can tell, he has shown small interest in learning anything."

Jenny, seeing Reid grimace, wondered if he would speak for himself or if Phaeline would defend him again, but both remained silent.

"Just so," Hugh said. Hefting the pages he held, he added, "If any or all of the three of you thought you could simply seize these estates, you would soon have learned your error. Not only does Jenny know that a husband cannot take her title against her will, but the law would be wholly on her side if she had to fight these settlements. They are worthless. You must tear them up and negotiate new ones."

"Then that is what we will do," Phaeline said, nodding reassuringly at Reid.

"No, we won't," Jenny said, standing. "I won't sign anything of the sort. As every one of you has known from the outset, I do not want to marry Reid Douglas."

"We'll see about that," Reid snapped. "You are promised to me in the sight of God, and I will hold you to that promise."

Hugh said gently, "You might succeed, too, were there no just impediment to such a union. However, much as you will dislike hearing it, I'm afraid there is one."

"What the devil are you nattering about now?" Reid demanded.

"Why, only that Jenny is already married," Hugh told him. "To me."

In the uproar that followed, Hugh's temper—which had fought for release from the moment they had entered the solar—rapidly subsided. The sight of his sister, Reid, and Dunwythie all bursting into speech at once was amusing enough to ease his fury with all three, albeit not enough to obliterate it.

He made out only a few phrases here and there, but Phaeline and Reid seemed to accuse him of betraying the Douglas family and Dunwythie of betraying his own. Dunwythie, oblivious to the other two, kept repeating demands for an explanation.

In the midst of it, Jenny stood still, looking cool and aloof, as if she were a visiting dignitary and a cluster of local children had suddenly begun to quarrel. It had, she might as well have said, nothing to do with her.

To Hugh, she looked like an island of tranquility in the midst of a storm, although he had no doubt that under that cool fa?ade, she was seething.

Nothing she had said to him suggested that she harbored affection for any of the three, but she had to feel Dunwythie's betrayal especially. As her guardian—faith, as her uncle by marriage—he owed her his honest duty. But whether through ineptitude or his unfortunate habit of bowing to his wife's every whim and fancy in a natural, masculine desire for peace, he had let Jenny down badly.

Reid's voice suddenly soared above the others as he whirled toward Hugh. "I knew you would try to ruin everything for me! Damn you, Hugh Douglas!"

"Peace, lad," Hugh said, bracing himself hopefully. "None of this was my doing." He nearly added that it was none of Jenny's either, but honesty forbade that, since her abrupt departure from Annan House had begun it all.

In any event, Reid did not give him time to speak, shouting, "Not your doing? How can that be if you have married the curst woman?"

"Mind your tongue, for I want to hear no more of that," Hugh said curtly. "My following her to the minstrels' camp created a misunderstanding. Believing I was a suitor and that she liked me and needed a protector, they arranged a play about a marriage in which we believed we played roles. The priest, however, was real."

Reid sputtered, "But… but so what if he was?"

"It means the ceremony was likewise real, and a priest lacks authority to undo a marriage. Nevertheless, you will have no difficulty getting it annulled, my lord," he said to Dunwythie. "Their prior betrothal will ease the way. The process will take time, of course, but 'tis time you will doubtless devote to sorting out things here. In any event, as I said, I must go to Threave. It is at best a two-day journey from here, and there is some urgency."

"If there is urgency, lad, you may want to travel faster," Dunwythie said. "I can arrange for you to take a ship from Annan to Kirkcudbright if you like. From there, I believe, it is but a few miles or so to Threave."

"If you have men's business to discuss now, I doubt anyone can think it concerns Janet," Phaeline said. "And, as you will remain here whilst we arrange your annulment, Janet, you may retire now to your bedchamber. When you are ready to apologize properly for your rash behavior, you may do so. Until then—"

"No," Jenny said flatly.

"No? By heaven, whilst you are under this roof, you will do as you are—"

"No, Phaeline, I will not. I am going to Threave with Sir Hugh."

Hugh was still considering Dunwythie's offer of a ship and had paid little heed to the exchange, but at these words, he looked at Jenny.

"Now, lass," he said firmly, "we've already decided that you'll stay here."

"We did not," she retorted. "You declared that I would, but that was before I understood all that has taken place here. You are still my husband, are you not?"

"Aye, legally, I am," he admitted.

"Then, until the annulment my place is with you. After all, it is your duty to protect me, and they have proven beyond doubt that I cannot trust them."

As Hugh tried to think of something sensible to say that would refute her logic, Reid said, "Faith, she's probably already slept with him!"

"Nay, lad, that is not—"

"Aye, sure," Jenny declared roundly. "I have slept with him."

"Now, see here," Hugh exclaimed. "She does not know what she is—"

"I knew it!" Reid exclaimed. "By heaven, you do want thrashing, and I—"

"Enough!" Hugh roared, stepping between them as the thought of Reid touching Jenny snapped the tenuous hold he had on his temper. "By God, Jenny is right. I am her husband, and as far as I'm concerned, the only way we'll see any annulment is if Jenny wants one. Until that day, she is my wife and will remain so!"

Jenny swayed dizzily. Such an impulsive speech was the last thing she had expected to hear from Hugh. She had hoped only that he would agree to take her to Threave, because she wanted less than ever to stay at Annan House.

Phaeline and Reid would both exert themselves to make her miserable. And although Mairi and Fiona would be kind to her, it would not be enough.

But to stay married to Hugh… she had to think about that.

He was watching her now, narrowly, as if he would judge her reaction. Well, she would recall his good advice yet again and reveal her feelings to no one.

Accordingly, she turned to Dunwythie and said matter-of-factly, "How soon can a ship set sail from Annan Harbor, my lord?"

"Sakes, lassie, we must talk about this," he said, glancing at the others.

"How soon, sir?" Jenny repeated.

Looking at Hugh and finding no support there, he said, " 'Tis best just now if ye leave on a morning tide. Sithee, Kirkcudbright lies some fifty miles from here. But whilst that would mean two long days' travel on horseback, or longer if snow flies again, 'tis nobbut a half day's journey by galley if ye go with the ebbing tide."

"Then we can leave tomorrow morning, sir," she said to Hugh.

"We'll see what his lordship learns of ships in the harbor first," Hugh said.

"Very well, then I shall see to my packing. I do not mean to visit the Lord of Galloway with only this kirtle, two shifts, one pair of boots, and a cloak." Curtsying to Dunwythie, she added, "Pray, grant me leave to go to my chamber, my lord."

"Aye, to be sure, lass. But ye shouldna go like this. 'Tis as if ye were running away again, and I cannot believe we've been so unkind to ye as to make ye do that."

"I'll talk with her, my lord," Hugh said. "But you should ask your conscience if it was kindness to negotiate those marriage settlements without consulting her about them or referring to the late Lord Easdale's will for his direction."

"Aye, lad, I ought to have read the will. And I'll grant ye, the lass did say summat about his teaching her. But she's still just a lass for all that. Still, ye were right to say I should teach mine own lassies summat about managing my estates."

"An excellent notion," Hugh said, but he was watching Jenny.

"I'll leave you now," she said. With another brief curtsy, she left the room and hurried upstairs, hoping Phaeline would not follow her.

Reaching her own bedchamber, she found Mairi and Fiona inside, waiting.

"We knew she'd send you here as soon as they stopped scolding," Fiona said.

"I'm leaving with Sir Hugh," Jenny told them as she shut the door. "Prithee, do not try to dissuade me, either of you. Do you ken aught of marriage settlements?"

Both Mairi and Fiona shook their heads.

"Apparently, Phaeline and my uncle contrived things so Reid would take over my estates and title, but Sir Hugh said they broke the law. As he and I are married—"

"Married!" they exclaimed in unison.

Jenny explained, adding, "So I'm going with Hugh. I expect we truly are married now, for they all say they will seek an annulment. But I can not stay here."

"Did you really sleep with him?" Fiona demanded. "What was it like?"

Jenny chuckled. "I did sleep with him, but not as you mean or as Reid thinks, because Hugh did not want to make getting an annulment more difficult or to get me with child. But after the wedding, the others prepared his tent for us, and I did not want to tell them what a coil they had made for us. Nor did I want to make Hugh tell them, especially as it was my own lie that began it all."

"Was Hugh furious?" Fiona asked. "My mother has spoken often of his fearsome temper. Is it fearsome?"

"I do not find it so, although he did say things I'd liefer not have heard. I had not seen him truly furious until today. But I could tell he was angry as he read my marriage settlements, and he grew angrier yet when Reid said I must be punished."

"Reid does have a right to be angry with you," Mairi said reasonably.

"Aye, perhaps, but when he demanded punishment, Hugh declared that as far as he is concerned, we are married and will stay married unless I will it otherwise."

"But you do will it otherwise, don't you?" Fiona said. "You cannot want Sir Hugh for a husband. Why, you said as much, yourself, the night you left."

Jenny hesitated. "I don't know what I want anymore," she said. "But I am leaving with Hugh in the morning. So, if you two mean to stay here and talk, you must help with my packing and tell me all that happened whilst I was away. Did they find any of the missing jewelry."

"How do you know any jewelry was missing?" Fiona asked.

"Hugh told me, of course, when he found me. Was much taken?"

"Aye, a good many pieces," Mairi said. "But a traveler found nearly all of them not far from our gate, so it must have been someone playing a prank. Phaeline was furious that she and Father had to return the missing pieces. She said it made it look as if someone here had taken them, whilst she is sure the minstrels did."

"Except they couldn't have taken all of it," Fiona said. "Recall that things were taken after they had gone, including Mam's pearls."

Jenny said, "I just don't think minstrels would steal from houses where they perform. If people even suspected they might, they would not let them into ordinary houses, let alone into places like Lochmaben and Threave."

"Lochmaben!" Fiona exclaimed. "Sakes, everyone there is English!"

"Aye, but I sang there," Jenny said. "As for the minstrels' honesty, the Sheriff of Dumfries invited them to perform in the market square there."

Recalling that the sheriff's men had searched all the tents in the Dumfries encampment for missing jewels, she tried to fit a simple prank at Annan House with that knowledge. They had found nothing, though. She needed to think more.

However, Mairi and Fiona demanded then that she tell them the whole tale of her adventures, so she did her best to comply. But she left out her suspicions of intrigue brewing and other, more private things.

Supper was a tense meal, made tolerable only by Hugh's presence and that of Fiona and Mairi. When Jenny finished eating, she had no desire to linger at the table or to join Phaeline in her solar with the others, so she excused herself, saying she was tired from all her travels and wanted to sleep.

No one tried to dissuade her, but alone in her bedchamber, she felt unusually lonely and uncertain of herself. Remembering that Peg had suspected Phaeline was not pregnant at all, Jenny sent a gillie to find Phaeline's maid-servant, Sadie.

When the girl came to her, Jenny said, "I'm leaving early in the morning for Kirkcudbright, Sadie. Prithee, help me fold these dresses into yon sumpter basket."

"Och, aye, I did hear that, me lady. We'd nae suspicion that ye'd marry Sir Hugh. 'Twere a rare stunner, that, as we thought ye was to marry his brother!"

"It was a surprise to me, too," Jenny said with a smile, watching as Sadie deftly folded one of her gowns. "How well you do that! I vow, I tried three times to make it fit without crushing it."

"Aye, well, I do ha' to look after her ladyship's things, don't I? And her being that particular, I can tell ye."

"How does she fare?" Jenny asked. "Peg said she feared something may have gone amiss."

Sadie's eyes flew wide, and she stared as if she did not know what to say.

"What is it, Sadie? Should I not have asked after her?"

"I'd liefer ye didna ask me, me lady. I shouldna say nowt."

"I see," Jenny said. Peg had been right then. "Did she find her missing pearls?"

"Nay, not her, although Lady Johnstone did find her necklace. And them other pieces that went missing, they all turned up, too. I did think I'd found three o' the lady Phaeline's pearls, but she said they was old ones from summat else and she were missing her whole string. Faith, though, she slapped me so me ears rang."

"Oh, Sadie, no," Jenny said sympathetically.

"Aye, and she thinks someone in the castle took them. I feared she meant me, but I'd never take nowt that wasna mine. We none of us would, Lady Jenny… Sakes"—she threw up her hands—"what do I call ye now? I'm thinking I should call ye Lady Douglas or Lady Thornhill, but I dinna ken which."

"Neither," Jenny said with a chuckle. "I am still properly Lady Easdale, Sadie, but I shan't mind a bit if you go on calling me Lady Jenny."

She wondered what Hugh would think of that, but as he had made the point himself, he would surely understand that she retained her title. Just thinking of him made her wish he were there so she could talk to him. Doubtless, a wife had the right to summon her husband to her. She wondered if Hugh would come if she did.

Still at the high table, Hugh was longing for his bed. He was not particularly sleepy, but he was tired of listening to Dunwythie.

He had long since acquitted his lordship of evil intent, because it was plain that he was just a man who preferred peace to the sort of discomfort Phaeline could create for him if he displeased her. The woman had only to moan and put a hand on her belly for the poor hen-hearted man to leap up and do her bidding.

Hugh could understand Dunwythie's longing for a son. Most men wanted sons. But to wait fifteen years and do nothing in the meantime to secure the well-being of his estates and his people was dangerously irresponsible.

Realizing that he had done much the same by failing to insist that Reid learn to run Thornhill, he could say no more to Dunwythie on that subject. Mayhap the man would teach his daughters what they needed to know. Mairi, at least, seemed capable and would doubtless learn quickly. The mischievous Fiona was another matter, but might well improve with age.

As soon as he could decently excuse himself after supper, he went to his bedchamber. There, he found Lucas tidying the room and sorting his clothing. A large tub full of steaming water sat beside the small fireplace.

"That tub looks inviting," Hugh said, beginning to strip off his jacket.

"I did 'ear we'd be going to Kirkcudbright by galley, so I knew ye'd be glad of a bath. I'm thinking though that ye mightn't want to take all your gear."

"You were right about the bath but wrong about the gear," Hugh said as he unlaced his shirt. "We'll take it all. I mean to return straight to Thornhill from Kirkcudbright. I have already been away from the place too long."

"Aye, sir, and my lady?"

"So you've heard about that, too, have you?"

Kneeling to pull off Hugh's boots, Lucas said casually, "Being as I were present for the wedding, as ye might say…"

"Don't play the fool with me. I know you've learned she is to go with us and doubtless that I have declared she'll remain my wife unless she wills it otherwise."

"Aye, sure, and wise I thought ye, too, sir—although I ken fine that ye'd sworn ye'd never marry again," he added gently.

"Too late to think about that now," Hugh said. "Just see to it that our horses get safely back to Thornhill and our baggage gets aboard the right galley. Oh, and you'd better see if her ladyship has orders for you, as well."

"What about a maid for her ladyship, sir? Happen she'll want one."

"Go and ask her as soon as we have finished washing my hair," Hugh advised, wondering what Jenny would think of his sending Lucas to her.

When the man had gone, Hugh finished his bath and dried his hair by the fire. Although it was early for bed, he decided he could use a good night's sleep.

He had scarcely settled in, however, when a rap on his door roused him.

Certain that it must be Lucas returning with men to carry away the tub, he growled, "Come in then!"

But when the door opened, Jenny stood on the threshold with a candle in her hand, her unplaited hair hanging in soft waves to her hips. "Oh," she said. "I did not think… That is I thought you would still be up. I… I should not have come."

Hugh sat up, recalled his nudity, and forced calm into his voice as he said, "I can pull my breeks back on and be up again in a trice, lass. Don't run away."

In truth, one part of him was already up. It had leapt to attention the moment he saw her. She turned her back, making him fear she would leave, so he grabbed his breeks and yanked them on, imperiling the most wakeful part of him as he jerked the lacing tight.

"Come in, Jenny," he said as he tied off the laces. "What is it, lass? I sent Lucas to you. Did you forget something you wanted to tell him?"

"Nay, he went off to get his supper. But my room is cold and lonely, and I knew you must still be angry with me, so I thought… I guess I want to apologize."

Since she still stood on the threshold, he went to her and urged her inside with a hand to a shoulder, nudging the door shut behind them with his foot.

She wore only a loose lavender robe and slippers, and she smelled of roses, his favorite perfume. It was the first time he had seen her hair unplaited. It hung in long waves, and where his hand still touched her, it felt silky soft and a bit damp.

"You washed your hair," he said.

"I washed all of me," she said. Then, catching sight of the water-filled tub, she added, "You must have, too. It smells of musk and cloves in here."

Unnaturally aware of his hand on her right shoulder, he warned himself that he ought not to be touching her at all before he sorted out why she had come. But when she turned toward him and stood there, looking trustfully up at him, he could not resist putting his other hand lightly on her left shoulder.

The lavender robe was soft, and her eyes, reflecting the light of her candle, looked more golden than ever.

He took the candle from her, set it on a nearby stand, and put his hand back on her shoulder. "Now," he said, "why did you come to me?"

"I told you, I should apolo—"

"Lass, when I am angry, you won't just suspect it. You will know it."

"But you were," she insisted.

"Aye, but not with you. I should have said when I'm angry with you, you will know it. I am not one who conceals true anger when I feel it."

"You were hiding it today. I could tell."

"Could you? I was angry that they had treated you so unfairly. I saw your father's will, and it makes his wishes clear. If Dunwythie read only far enough to learn he'd named him your guardian, I suspect he wanted to know no more, lest it make difficulties for him. That amounts to cowardice and did make me angry, but I hid it for the same reason I warned you not to display your feelings to them."

"So as not to give them the satisfaction of knowing they had angered us."

"Aye, and you did well, lass. But I was talking of more personal things a moment ago. You need not hide your anger with me—if ever I should stir it," he added with a teasing smile. Then, more seriously, he said, "You should also know that I don't always manage to control mine. Sometimes, it just leaps before I can."

"Phaeline said you have a fearsome temper."

"Aye, well, she should know. She has stirred it more than once."

"Is that why you told me not to throw things?"

"Aye, and you should take that warning to heart," he said. "But now that we have established that I'm not angry with you, is there aught else you want to say?"

"I expect Lucas told you that I don't need a maidservant to go with us."

"Not yet; I thought you were he coming back for the tub. Art sure you don't want someone? There are unlikely to be other women aboard the ship."

"I don't have my own servants here from Easdale," she said. "And I don't want anyone from Annan House."

"Then you need not have anyone. Anything else?"

She hesitated, then looked him in the eye. "Phaeline told me that you swore you would never marry again, and today you declared me your wife because they made you angry. I… I just wanted to talk to you… to… But now I don't know what to say. That is, I don't know what you really want from me. Will you tell me?"

His fingers gripped her shoulders tighter. He had not been sure either at the time. But looking into her golden eyes, feeling her tremble as she waited for him to speak, and feeling his cock vote its prick's worth, he knew exactly what he wanted.

"I rarely say aught that I don't mean, Jenny, especially when I'm angry. I meant what I said to them. As far as I am concerned, we are husband and wife and will remain so unless you choose otherwise. Twice now, you have demanded that I act as your husband. Mayhap you should consider that demand more carefully."

"And mayhap the third time will make it so," she said. Then, with a hesitant smile, she added, "May I sleep here with you tonight?"

"I cannot think of anything I'd like better," he said. "But you should know that if you do, I will act the husband in every way, lass, from now on."

"Sakes, I already told them that you had," she said. "Shall I undress?"

"Nay, I want to undress you. Then, if you are very good— and very quick—perhaps I will let you undress me."