Page 60 of Twelfth Knight’s Bride

“True, the past was oft dismal, but that ends now.” His sister took his hand affectionately. “Ye’ve achieved the conditions placed upon ye and get to claim that money. Aren’t ye pleased, James? Who knew ye would succeed at it?”

“I’d given up thinking much on it,” he said dismissively, tossing back another swallow.

“How could ye nay think on it every day?”

James shrugged, sipped, and said nothing.

“However did ye manage to twist Laird Grant’s arm into giving her to ye, anyway? Ye’ve never told us. Ye merely showed up with her and have refused to give anyone yer reasons.”

A fist of dread tightened upon Aileana’s throat. Whatever they spoke of, it wasn’t good, at least, not for her. Straining to hear, she felt her fingers migrate up to her throat to clutch her robe shut. Vulnerability infiltrated the happiness that had soared since the night before, when they’d both finally been spent and she’d lain in the warmth of his embrace, tracing idle circles upon the hair sprinkled upon the ridges of his stomach muscles littered with olden scars.

“I admit, I forced his hand. ’Twas before I knew Aileana—”

Aileana pushed the door open, unable to continue eavesdropping.

“What are ye talking about? Yer inheritance?”

Was this what Brighde had gossiped about before the Yule log? James froze like a deer sensing danger.

Brighde’s face dropped in surprise. “Lady, I had no idea ye were here.”

“Allie, I’m nay sure what ye heard, but—”

“Was this all a design?” Aileana asked, illness roiling in the pit of her stomach. “Subduing the Grants? Through marriage? Just as yer men once jested?”

“It’s nay like that,” James replied, coming to her to take her hands. She clutched her robe harder, refusing to accept the gesture.

“Then what is it like? What are yer reasons for forcing my brother to give ye one of his sisters? Why did ye have to marry me to gain yer inheritance?”

“Let us retire, wife,” James replied, his lips flattening into a firm line and worry in his voice. “So I might explain.”

“I would have ye tell me now. I ken ye wished to humiliate me when ye first demanded a wife. I just thought…” Her tongue failed her, as did her intellect, for no more words came out.

She turned away, trying to make sense of her jumbled thoughts. The remarks of the man as they’d hunted for the Yule log swirled with Brighde’s slips of the tongue during the celebration the night before. James took hold of her shoulders, attempting to ease her distress.

In sooth, attempting to placate me so that I nay learn the truth.

She turned around, refusing to fall victim to the panic in his blue depths. “Was I a wager?”

“Nay,” he growled. “I was petty when I forced Seamus to give ye to me. And I regretted it almost instantly.”

“Then why did ye nay sever the handfast right then? Why be kind and good to me and try to win my trust? Ye gain something from marriage to me. I can sense it.”

He looked down and stepped away, and his face went ashen. “In sooth, I’d forgotten much about my original purpose…” He glanced back up, a furrow to his brow. “As I fell for ye.”

“About what, James?”

At her quiet but unyielding enunciation, Brighde slipped through the door, clutching her stomach. “I’m so sorry, Aileana,” she whispered, disappearing.

Aileana clenched her trembling hands. Sakes, but could she not master the nerves chewing through her stomach?

He rested his hands at his waist wearily and took a deep breath.

“When my faither died, I learned that he’d ordered my personal inheritance be kept in trust at Fearn Abbey until the end of my twenty-fourth year. He did this because my stepmither was furious at him for taking a lover and getting a bairn on her—me. She wanted me to get nothing and instead see my money donated to the church, as his penance for straying from her. After years of arguing, he finally agreed to her terms, with a condition of his own.”

James sighed. Swallowed. Took a deep breath as if giving his last apology before an executioner dropped the hatch to send him swinging.

“He wrote that if I could unite our ancestral lands once more or negotiate a marriage with the Grants, I would be able to inherit, as it would prove my ability to fulfill the role of laird and solidify our holdings in spite of my bastardy.” His eyes dropped. “My twenty-fourth year ends on Epiphany. This year.”