Tamed by a Laird (30 page)

“Aye. Phaeline no sooner mentioned him than she said he was a fool not to have married again. She said my uncle had been wiser,
because he’d provided Mairi with a mother and himself with a woman who will give him a proper male heir.”

“Something Phaeline has yet to do,” he murmured.

“Aye, but they are certain that this one will be a boy,” Jenny said, keeping her doubts about that to herself. “In troth,
for Mairi’s sake, I hope it is.”

“Mairi’s sake? I should think she would prefer to remain her father’s heiress. Why do you think it better for her if Phaeline
bears a son?”

“Because, as it is, Mairi has no suitors. Young men want to know what they are getting when they wed. If my uncle were to
acknowledge her as his heiress, she would have suitors aplenty. But whilst Phaeline remains able to produce a son, my uncle
neither acknowledges Mairi nor provides her with a proper tocher. So no suitor can be sure that she is
worth
marrying.”

“I see,” he said. “I must agree that knowing one’s birthright does make one’s responsibilities clear.”

“If you had only a daughter, would you teach her or keep hoping for a son?”

“I did have a daughter,” he said. “Now Reid is my heir, and I realized not long ago that I’ve done nowt to make his future
responsibilities clear to him.”

“But you can still marry properly and have more children, sir. You could easily produce a better heir than Reid.”

“You are very blunt, madam. Does it not occur to you that you will also benefit when Reid inherits my estates, as he will
be your husband by then?”

“Nay, I did not think of that, nor would I. But I meant no offense, sir. You may be responsible in some way for how Reid has
turned out, but changing him now would be gey hard. My father, on the other hand, was a shy man who had no interest in remarrying.
He was content with his daughter. He taught me all he knew about our estates, and I know he expected to have a say in my marriage,
but I wish he had told me more about what to expect.”

“I warrant it would have been as he commanded, whilst he lived,” Hugh said. “It would certainly have been easier for you if
he had. You must miss him sorely.”

“As sorely as you miss your wife and daughter,” she said. “Sithee, I could ask him anything, and he would answer my questions.
But I did not know I would need answers to questions that it never occurred to me to ask.”

“You may ask me, if you like,” he said.

“Just what do you suppose your brother would say if I were to tell him I had sought your advice and your answer disagreed
with what he had decided to do?”

When he did not reply, she turned toward him, raising herself on an elbow to look at him. “I did not put that well, but you
must know what I meant.”

“Aye,” he said. “And you are right. Reid would be angry.”

She was quiet as a question she was burning to ask him repeated itself over and over again in her mind until she said, “Things
are going to be difficult when we reach Annan House, are they not?”

“Aye, a little,” he said. “But I doubt that Phaeline will rip up at you too much whilst I am at hand, if that is what concerns
you.”

“What about your brother?”

After another silence, he said, “I cannot speak for Reid.”

“Peg said he would demand an examination,” Jenny said, blurting it out before she lost her nerve. “Do you understand what
that means?”

“Aye,” he said, his voice sounding harsh again.

“Well, that would be
very
difficult.”

“It is not unusual for a man to demand such a test before his marriage if his bride has not been closely guarded until then.
You should have thought of that before you ran away.”

“How could I think about something I did not know could happen? My father never told me about such examinations. He assumed
I would be under his eye until I married, so it never occurred to him that I might need to know such a thing.”

Lucas called, “Sir, the fire be a-going, and I’ve cut some long branches, so we can begin our shelters if ye’d like.”

“I must go, but you’ll be warm enough now, I wager,” Hugh said, carefully pushing the blankets off himself and tucking them
close to her as he got up.

“Aye,” she murmured, watching as he pulled on his boots and went outside in only a leather jack and breeks, leaving his heavy
cloak atop hers.

It occurred to her that since they would seek an annulment, for her to lie with him was improper under any circumstance. Even
so, it had seemed natural to let him hold her, and a blessing to share his warmth.

In truth, although Hugh had often annoyed and exasperated her, something deep inside thrilled at the thought of having him
even briefly as her husband. She respected him, and she could talk with him. He understood what it was to manage large estates
and bear responsibility for others’ lives. He did not regard his estates or hers as mere sources of income. Reid, she suspected,
saw Easdale that way and spared not one thought for her or for her people.

She lay a few minutes longer in the warm bed. But now that she was warm, she decided she ought to be up and doing things,
helping to keep the fire going if nothing else, while the men dealt with their shelters.

Accordingly, she got up, pulled on her boots, and smoothed the covers on the pallet with Hugh’s cloak atop them. Reassuring
herself that the inside of her cloak was dry, she put it on, put up the hood, and went outside. She was surprised to see that
although the patches of snow were deeper, much of the ground was still clear.

The men were piling branches near the tent, and she saw another pile beside Lucas’s tent. Lucas had cut fire-wood, so she
went to see if the fire needed tending.

It burned merrily, and Lucas had lashed a spit together, ready to put over the flames later. Hugh glanced at her but said
nothing about her having come outside. He and Lucas were already arranging the cut branches around and over Hugh’s tent. It
seemed to take only minutes and doing Lucas’s took less time.

The two men disappeared into the woods then, returning a short while later with a brace of rabbits. They skinned them, and
Lucas fixed them on the spit. Then he stood the spit over the fire.

“Where did you put the food we brought?” Jenny asked him, knowing the women had given them a bag of food before they left.

“ ’Tis in t’ sumpter basket, m’lady,” Lucas said, pointing. “We thought we’d liefer ’ave hot food as well, just now.”

“Those rabbits already smell delicious,” she said as she went to find the sack.

It contained crusty rolls and apples, as well as cold sliced beef. Knowing the men would be hungry and that they would have
little use for the food after they reached Annan House, she took it all to a flat rock near the fire.

“We’ll have a feast for our midday meal,” she said.

“Walk with me for a time first, lass,” Hugh said. “I want to see how much snow is flying beyond these woods, and we should
come to the end of them a short way from here. We’ll have a look whilst Lucas minds the rabbits.”

She went willingly. Walking would keep her warm.

“Will the minstrels be building shelters, too?” she asked him.

He shrugged. “ ’Tis more likely that their resourceful leader has arranged for them to move into the town hall. I’m hoping this storm will be of short duration, though, so we won’t have to stay overnight.”

She had mixed emotions about that, but when they reached the edge of the woods, the snow seemed to be falling heavily. She
saw no sign of the road other than an area that appeared consistently flatter than the surrounding countryside.

“Is it safe to try following a road we can hardly see?” she asked him.

“We’ll wait until it is safe enough. I want to walk a little farther, though. I can’t see much to the west from here, and
since the storm is moving eastward…”

“I’m coming with you,” she said when he paused.

“Aye, sure,” he agreed, offering an arm.

Clutching it, she stomped through the snow with him, noting how feathery light it was, and dryer than earlier snows had been.
It was already inches deep.

She folded her hands together over his arm, to take advantage of its warmth.

“Cold again?” he asked.

“Not yet,” she said. “You’re warm enough for two.”

He chuckled, and she smiled at the sound. She liked his voice, but even more did she enjoy his laughter. He laughed at the
same things she did, and she felt more comfortable with him than she had thought she could feel with anyone.

They walked eastward for a time before he turned and skeptically eyed the dark, forbidding western sky.

“It is going to last a while,” Jenny said.

“Aye, a few hours,” he said. “We may still have time to reach Annan before nightfall, even so. But I think Lucas and I should
cut more firewood.”

They returned to find the rabbits ready to take off the spit, and when they had eaten, Hugh told Jenny to go back inside the
tent while they cut wood.

The fire was not large, but they had pitched their tents and built their shelters to face it, so she could leave the flap
open, snuggle in the blankets, and still watch the men at work. Hugh had not yet put his cloak back on, but when she returned
to the tent, Lucas asked her to pass it out to him so he could dry it before the fire.

He had contrived a clever rack for the purpose, and the area where he had built the fire remained relatively dry, the snow
piling for the most part in the treetops. She remembered that one reason for the cavelike branch shelters was to protect them
if a heavy pile of snow should suddenly fall through the branches overhead.

An hour later, Hugh came to tell her that although the snowfall had eased, it still snowed, so he had decided they would wait
at least an hour more to be sure it would not grow worse.

An hour after that, he said it looked as if it might clear before nightfall but not soon enough to travel safely.

Jenny received the news calmly. She was in no hurry.

Hugh watched Jenny, not having to ask what she was thinking. He knew she hated the thought of going back, but he had to take
her. He had given his word.

When he and Lucas had cut enough wood, Hugh left him to watch the fire and ducked back inside the tent to see how she was
doing.

She smiled when he asked. “It is gey cozy in here now,” she said.

“Aye, well, I think the snow will ease again soon,” he said. The truth was he was enjoying himself. He always did when he
pitted himself against nature or any other foe. For that matter, he had enjoyed playing troubadour with the minstrels. But
he was not looking forward to returning her to Dunwythie, let alone to Reid.

Nonetheless, he reminded himself firmly, he had a duty to keep his word.

“I was thinking,” he said as Jenny scooted over to make room for him on the pallet. “When we get to Annan House, they will
have much to say to you—to both of us, come to that. I have no doubt they expected me to return you within a day or two at
most—certainly not to take ten days.”

“Aye, for they would expect you to act swiftly,” she agreed. “You have a reputation for getting things done competently, I
know.”

“Do you?”

“Aye, sure; Phaeline told me.” Her cheeks flushed then, as she looked away.

“What else did Phaeline say about me?”

Jenny nibbled her lower lip and then grinned at him. “She said that when you make up your mind, you won’t change it. You fold
your arms and pretend to listen, but one’s arguments have no more effect on you than drops of water on a stone.”

“
That
is an absurdity, as I hope I need not tell you.”

“Sakes, sir, I don’t think it an absurdity. You made up your mind to fetch me, and you’ve not turned from that course. Phaeline
also said,” she added hastily, “that one cannot push you to do aught you do not want to do, that even if one were to light
a fire between your toes, you would stick to your purpose. She said, too, that you’d pay less heed to your pain than to whether
one had built the fire properly.”

His lips twitched, but he said, “I trust you do not believe all Phaeline says.”

“No, sir, I do not. In troth, I have wondered…” She hesitated.

“Wondered what?”

“ ’Tis naught, and I should say no more, for I’m sure I am thinking wishful thoughts. I should be kinder, but I do wish you
would not take me back there.”

“I must,” he said gently. “I promised Dunwythie, just as you promised to marry Reid. We must both honor our promises.”

“Well, I wish I did
not
have to marry Reid,” she said fiercely.

“But you agreed to become betrothed to him, and betrothal is more than a promise,” he said. “ ’Tis a complex, legal agreement
involving land issues and other matters that can require long negotiation before the settlements are completed.”

“Well, I don’t like him any better as my betrothed than I did before.”

“If you disliked him so, why did you agree to marry him?” he demanded.

“They gave me no choice!”

“Don’t be daft. You had only to refuse to sign the marriage settlements.”