Page 28 of Ghost of the Ton

He lifted his hand to his forehead and wiped his brow, but the ache throbbing behind his eyes that had grown steadily from the moment he’d set eyes on…Euphramia…in the chapel showed no sign of relenting.

“I’m not angry at her,” he said. “I’m angry—nay, concerned—about the estate. Miss Young’s dowry was to pay off our remaining creditors. We’d have finally been free of debt after years of Da’s—”

“There’s no need to remind me of yer da’s excesses,” his mother said. “I knew more than anyone of the vices he indulged in. But ye’re the laird now. Ye must take responsibility. Yer da’s been gone two years.”

“I know, Ma,” he said. “Dinnae ye understand that’s why I agreed to wed Miss Young? But now…”

“Now it will take a little more time to clear the debts,” she said. “Is that such a tragedy? Isn’t it better to learn how to be responsible for yerself rather than rely on some lass’s fortune? Ye’d be less likely to get into debt again if ye can learn how to get out of it.”

“I’m not some lad learning how to manage his allowance, Ma,” Hamish huffed.

“Then stop behaving like one.”

He met her gaze, but was unable to reply. After all, she’d spoken the truth.

“Speak to her,” Ma said. “Ye may find her a useful helpmate. A lass without fortune may have other qualities.”

“Such as?”

“If ye cannae see her qualities, then I’ll regret yer union even more than ye.”

“Ye would?”

“Aye. But for her sake, not yers.”

“Then”—he hesitated, bracing himself for the blow that he was about to earn—“ye wouldnae object if I asked the lass for an annulment? The marriage was never consummated.”

His mother remained still. The only indication that she’d heard was a slight whitening of her knuckles as she tightened her hold on her cane.

The warm crackle of the fire filled the air, but it lacked the usual aura of comfort that he took on entering his mother’s chamber.

“Ye must do as ye see fit, son,” she said, after a pause. “I’m just yer ma and have no right to tell ye what to do for the benefit of Glenblath.”

“Everything I do is for the benefit of Glenblath,” he replied. “If I cannae take care of our people, then what purpose do I serve?”

“The first step toward saving the world, son, is to save a single soul. This lass may have been sent here by the Almighty for a purpose—to make ye happy, perhaps.”

He let out a bitter laugh. “I’ve long since surrendered any hope of being happy. I must do what I think is right. If I disappoint ye, that’s a price I must pay.”

She let out a sigh.

“Ye women have it easy,” he said, tempering his irritation. “Ye dinnae have to shoulder responsibility, make difficult decisions, or be hard when hardness is required.”

“Och, Hamish,” she said. “Ye’ve much to learn about women.”

“Such as?”

“Ye must discover that for yerself. Now, I wish to rest.”

Considering himself dismissed, Hamish rose.

“Ye might ignore the advice of a woman,” she said, “and an old one at that. But I would beg ye to speak to yer wife.”

“Now?” he said, wincing at his tone, which sounded like that of a petulant child objecting to being told to apologize for a petty transgression.

“Leave her be tonight. She’s had an ordeal.”

She offered her hand and he kissed it. As he approached the door, she called after him.