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Guilt swept over her at once, just as the laird had intended, no doubt. She took his hand and kissed it. She was defenseless against her love for him and her pity. How could she let him die without even trying to make him happy?
“I will see whoever you like,” she said resignedly. “But Da, if I do not like him, I will not marry him.”
“I understand,” he agreed, smiling as he kissed her hand. “You are a good girl, Janice. Thank you.”
Was there a hint of triumph in his eyes?
* * *
And so it was that on a wet and miserable day in the middle of summer, a coach carrying James Aitken, the son of Laird Angus and Lady Fiona Aitken, rolled into the courtyard of Howdenbrae Castle. He was greeted by Alasdair, who bowed courteously and held out his hand to the other man to grip it tightly since his father had told him that a weak handshake made a bad impression.
“Pleased to make your acquaintance, M’Laird,” James said politely, smiling at Alasdair.
Although her father had passed the title onto Alasdair as soon as he became bedridden, Janice’s brother had not yet become accustomed to being called ‘M’Laird.’ He was slightly dumbfounded for a moment before saying, “And yours, sir.” Despite everyone’s opinion of him, Alasdair had grown to appreciate his sister and her happiness was important to him. Clearly, if his father, a man of sound judgment, had selected this man to be her suitor, then he must have seen some worth in him.
Alasdair looked the other man up and down for a moment, assessing him. He was a tall man, not exactly handsome, but with blue eyes set in a pleasant, open face. His hair was dark brown, the same color as his and Janice’s, and he had an upright, shoulders-back stance and an air of assurance about him that was entirely unconscious. A military man, he thought.
“Come and meet my sister,” Alasdair said as he led the other man into the parlor where Janice was standing, looking out of the window. She turned as the two men entered, and their gazes locked.
For a few moments, James looked stunned before his face broke into a wide smile.
Alasdair introduced them briefly before excusing himself. He gave his sister a warning look. They had arranged that he would stand outside the door just in case James had any ugly ideas like forcing a kiss on her or worse. He had become very protective of late.
Janice was relieved to see that the man her father had chosen for her was at least not ugly, which at first had been her worst nightmare. Now all she had to do was to find out if he was ugly inside. Unfortunately, there did seem to be something about him that she instinctively disliked. She could not put her finger on it, but perhaps it had something to do with the fact that his gaze lingered too long on her breasts, he wrung his hands all the time, and rarely met her eyes. He made her feel distinctly uneasy, but she decided not to judge him too harshly and too quickly. He was no doubt as nervous as she was.
Janice stood up to pour her guest a glass of wine, but when she turned to give it to him, he was standing right behind her, and she gave a frightened squeal, almost dropping the glasses. However, he took them out of her hands and smiled at her. Although he tried to hide it, there was a glint of something predatory in his eyes.
“I am so sorry,” James said. “I did not mean to startle you.”
“Perhaps you should have stood a little further away, then.” Janice glared at him, then nodded in acknowledgment of his apology and sat down, but unfortunately, he chose to sit uncomfortably close to her on the same seat.
“Your father says you are very good at running the estate,” he began.
“I am not doing it alone,” Janice corrected him. “My father is the laird, and we work together.”
“But your father will die soon,” James observed, sipping his wine.
Janice did not like his tone. His bald statement was true, but he had said it with no hint of sympathy or gentleness, even though he must have known that her heart was breaking.
“That is unfortunately true,” she acknowledged, “but my brother is still here. Between us, we will manage.”
“Could your brother do it without you?” James asked curiously. “Because my wife would, of course, come to live with me, but I have heard that your brother Alasdair is not a very good laird.”
“And who told you that?” Janice demanded, her eyes darkening with anger as she turned to look at him.
“It is common knowledge,” he said casually, shrugging. Again, his words had no feeling at all.
Janice took a deep breath to calm herself down. James Aitken had once more stated his opinion with utter heartlessness. Alasdair might have been reluctant to take up the mantle of lairdship, but he was learning, and no one had the right to speak of him that way. Janice tried to swallow her anger.
“That is a rather insulting thing to say to a member of his family, is it not?” she asked. “I have heard that your sister Thomasina had a child out of wedlock.” She raised her eyebrows.
“That is entirely different!” James cried, jumping to his feet and glaring down at her. “She was seduced by a much more experienced older man. She was an innocent young girl.”
“She was twenty-one, a year older than I am,” Janice pointed out. “I agree that she was innocent and not to blame if she was kept ignorant, but do you see how much it hurts when a member of your close family is insulted?”
James glared at her, then his face softened. “You are right,” he said quietly. “I am sorry.”
Janice sipped her wine, studying him. He had an air of defeat about him suddenly, and she knew at that moment that she was dealing with a personality much less forceful than her own. She could walk all over him and not even notice.
