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“They were her grandfather's lands, Jamie-boy,” the laird replied. “’Tis only right she have some of them as a dower portion.”
“She's still too young to bed,” James Gordon said.
“She will not be in two years, brother,” Angus Gordon said. “Ye can wait that long, for yer but a lad yerself. Where else will ye get such a good offer? Yer the youngest son, and have little to offer a lass of greater property but yer pretty face, Jamie. No father would want a lad with so little to offer, despite his pretty face.”
Jean Hay held her breath, not daring even to move.
“Well,”James Gordon allowed, “I suppose I could wait to bed a wife. How much land in the glen, Angus?”
“We'll discuss it when we are back in Loch Brae, Jamie,” the laird said quietly, “but ’Tis agreed between us that ye will take Jean Hay to be yer wife in two years’ time.”
“Aye,” James Gordon agreed, and the two men shook hands.
“Ye may kiss me, Jamie-boy,” Jeannie Hay said grandly, her heart pounding with excitement that she would finally have the man she wanted for a husband.
James Gordon looked at the young girl. Bending, he bussed her on her rosy cheek. “Yer too young, lass, for the lips,” he told her sternly, seeing the mutinous look in her amber eyes.
Then to everyone's surprise Jeannie Hay answered meekly, “Aye, Jamie. Whatever ye say.”
“Ye could take a lesson from yer little sister, Fiona Hay,” the laird said, a twinkle in his eyes.
Fiona looked outraged, but Janet Gordon Stewart laughed aloud, and her big husband chuckled, the deep sound rumbling about the room.
“The day I become a fool over aman!”Fiona sputtered, “ye'll know I have lost my wits!” Then she stormed from the chamber.
“Take yer betrothed and go,” Angus Gordon said to his youngest brother, waiting until Jamie had departed with Jean Hay to look to his sister and brother-in-law. “Say yer piece, Jan, for I know ye will anyway,” the laird told her with a small chuckle.
“Yer foolishness has gone on long enough, Angus,” Janet Stewart said sternly. “When are ye going to set the day and wed with Fiona?”
“When she tells me that she loves me, sister, for to my surprise and my amazement, I seem to be in love with her, but I will not wed with a lass who does not love me,” he finished implacably.
“Nor would Fiona, with her unfortunate parents as an example, wed with a man who did not love her,” his sister answered him. “A woman needs to know her man loves her, Angus. Only then will she dare to admit to her own feelings. Remember that we women are the weaker vessels.”
“Hah!”her brother responded, and even the patient, kindly Hamish Stewart had a difficult time remaining silent. “Most women have stronger wills than any man I have ever met,” the laird said. “When my lass tells me that she loves me, only then will I admit to her that my heart is filled with love for her.”
Janet Gordon Stewart shook her head. “God help us all, then, for both ye and Fiona are so stubborn that ye may go to yer graves without ever being wed.”
