At least her mother seems to care about her. Her bampot of a father doesnae worry about anythin' but himself.
The thud of footsteps coming down the corridor from the opposite direction made him pause. He was drained by the day he had and didn’t want to make conversation with anyone, especially not a long-faced man who owed him money.
The thought of ducking into a nearby room came to mind, but he shook his head and kept walking.
This is me home. Me castle.
A tall, slim frame appeared in the murky distance. As it drew closer, Leo saw James’s face.
Oh, he’s a quiet one.
“Trouble sleepin',” James explained as the two approached each other. “I can never get comfortable in a new place.”
“Me castle isnae comfortable enough for ye?” Leo crossed his arms over his chest, if for no other reason but to intimidate the man into moving along.
James managed a smile. “Nay, it’s perfectly comfortable. It’s just that I can never put me guard down.”
Leo grunted in response.
They were stuck in a strange stalemate that apparently neither knew how to break, which struck him as funny.
After a moment, he let out a chuckle.
“I owe ye a taste of me finest whisky,” he said. “Not what I put out in the solar for everyone.”
“Finally,” James drawled. “The good stuff.”
“Aye, this way then.”
Leo led him to the study and poured them each a big snifter of whisky. He watched as James inhaled deeply through his nose before taking a sip.
He kens a good whisky when he’s served one.
“Aye.” James nodded. “I shouldnae really be surprised that the Laird of Clan MacSween would have such a good whisky on hand.”
“Have ye and Beatrice’s cousin been married a long time?” Leo asked.
James took another sip, a sharp laugh rumbling in his chest. “Nae very long. We had, for lack of a better word, an unusual betrothal.”
“Aye? What of it?”
“We werenae necessarily in place the way we said we were when we got engaged.” James downed the rest of his whisky with a grimace and placed the empty cup in front of him. Leo refilled it without being asked.
“Ye werenae, but ye were engaged to be married, nay?” Leo drained his own glass and refilled it as well. “That’s nae unusual.”
“It was more about how we were pretending to be fond of each other and didnae realize what had happened until it happened.”
The whisky burned in Leo’s stomach. He felt it sloshing inside of him, flowing into his bloodstream and spinning his thoughts wildly around.
“Until what happened?” he asked.
James held up his hands, palms turned up. “Sometimes,” he said slowly, deliberately, “pretendin' for too long makes it real.”
Makes it real.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Beatrice felt better in the morning, if not entirely herself. She hadn’t slept well, but the few hours she had managed returned a placidity she had been lacking.
