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“He has been vera calm, mistress,” Cathy McLeod said softly. “But I think ye must soon prepare yerself for the worst. He is vera weak.”
Janice nodded. “He becomes worse by the day,” she agreed.
She moved over to the fire and stood looking into the flames for a moment before she poured herself a large glass of whisky and sat down by her father’s side.
She dismissed the healer and leaned back in her chair, then watched her father as his chest rose and fell, hearing the wheezing and rattling noise of his breathing as his lungs struggled to take in air. It hurt her to listen to him, but she dared not leave since she was afraid that he might die while she was away.
Gradually, as she emptied the glass, the whisky took effect, and she fell into a drugged sleep.
* * *
“We won!” Laird Ballantine said triumphantly. “Alasdair Stewart will be putty in our hands soon. We must, however, make sure that we leave one of our men there to influence him, and I know the perfect man.”
“Who?” Bernard asked.
“You, of course,” the laird said, chuckling. “I trust you, and if you are as good at making the laird obey you as you are at ordering my guards about, then you will have no trouble at all. Within a couple of weeks, we can put our own men in at Howdenbrae and begin to rake in the profits.”
“Are you thinking of stealing, M’Laird?” Bernard asked, alarmed.
The laird shook his head. “No, my boy. That would be beneath my dignity. I want to make the land more productive and make alliances with other clans through the Stewarts.”
Bernard frowned. When the laird had suggested that he was the right man for the job, his heart had leaped for joy. However, he knew that he could not go back to Howdenbrae while Janice was there. She already hated him, and he simply could not bear the thought of seeing her paired in marriage to another man, probably a laird or laird-to-be. After all, she was a very eligible young lady, and he was a nobody.
He sighed irritably. “M’Laird, you are forgetting one thing—or rather, one person.” He looked at Laird Ballantine with a deep frown as he shook his head. “Janice Stewart. She is not as biddable as her brothers, and she already thinks that I am akin to something that crawled out from under a stone. She will never cooperate with me. If you must do this thing, then send someone else.”
“I thought you and she rubbed along very well,” the laird remarked, puzzled. “What happened?”
“It was my fault,” William replied, before he went on to explain the situation. “But Father, I do not think anyone can tame Janice Stewart. She is like a terrier, a very small dog with a very big personality. I think you are wasting your time if you think you can deal with her.”
“She will likely be married off to a young bachelor before too long, though.” The laird looked at them both hopefully. “She is too beautiful to be left on the shelf.”
“I have a feeling she will make that decision herself, Father,” William said grimly. “If you thought our problems would be solved by exerting influence over Alasdair Stewart, think again.”
The laird swore under his breath. “You mean our entire trip was for nothing? I refuse to believe that.” His voice throbbed with anger.
Bernard said nothing more because he no longer cared. His future stretched into the distance, bleak and empty.
16
Alasdair had done a good job of supervising the buying of some new heavy horses for the estate, and Janice thought that privately there was some hope for him. He seemed to have settled down a little and become a trifle less flighty and self-centered as soon as he felt the weight of the lairdship dropping onto his shoulders. Perhaps they had not made a mistake after all.
“He is doing quite well, Da,” she told Laird Stewart. “I think it will take a little time, but he seems to be taking much more interest in the estate than he used to.”
Her father smiled weakly. “I always thought he might when the time came,” he said hoarsely. He reached for her hand and caressed her fingers for a moment before saying, “Janice, I would like to see you settle down with a good man before I go.” His eyes were pleading. “It would mean so much to me. I would like to see you happy because it would make me happy too.”
“Da, I am not looking for marriage. I have seen so many unhappy ones.” She shook her head. “I am sorry, but I don’t want or need a husband, and I will not be forced into being someone’s wife against my will. Anyway, out of all those men there, there is not one that I would have even taken as a gift.”
“Not even for me?” the laird wheedled. “There are many honorable young men out there who would be only too willing to wed you, and you know that I will settle a substantial dowry on you. I have so little time left, Daughter.” His eyes were pleading with her.
Janice was suddenly furious. He had backed her against a wall by working on her one weakness. She would do anything for him, and he knew it, so he was using the power of her love for him against her.
“I suspect that there are many so-called ‘honorable’ young men out there who will fall deeply in love with my dowry. I will not do it, not even for you, Da.”
There, she had said it…and she felt wretched.
The laird sighed, and his face seemed to sag as he looked at her in disappointment and then turned away from her.
“So be it, then, Janice,” he said, so faintly that she could hardly hear him.
