A Laird for Christmas

by Gerri Russell

  His pulse thudded in his ears. “How could you know that?”

  “Barker was captured.” She frowned at the paper in her hands. “He brought you this, and other things—information about the other men.”

  Bryce shifted uncomfortably. “He did.”

  Jane frowned. “Why did you do that?”

  He shrugged. “I have never had an advantage in my life. I wanted something that might turn you away from the others. It was an unfair advantage, but one I felt I needed.”

  “Cheating will not take you far in life,” she replied.

  He quirked his brow. “It achieved me time alone with you tonight.”

  Jane sighed. “Did you find anything?”

  He shook his head. “The only information that was even slightly interesting was about Colin.”

  Jane’s expression hardened. It was not at all the look he wanted to see on her face. “You will hand over the report about Colin.” She rustled the paper in her hands. “Barker brought you these names as well?”

  “Aye.”

  She set the list on the bench beside her. “I will think on this offer.” Then she brought her gaze back to his, and her eyes narrowed. “Bryce, I know there is a good person inside you. I used to know that boy.”

  He closed his eyes. He could envision the boy he used to be. What had happened to change him?

  “Can I give you some advice?” Jane’s voice brought him back to the moment.

  He opened his eyes and nodded.

  “Stop trying so hard. Be yourself. Be the man I know you are.”

  He could not resist sitting next to her. As he did, he prayed for a spark of attraction to flare between them. Something, anything. He shifted closer, waiting.

  Her face remained unchanged.

  Disappointment rocked him, but he forced the emotion away. Pity. She was not attracted to him. But many couples started marriage with far less. He straightened, changing tactics. “Cousin,” he said, the word punctuating the crackle and hiss of the flames. “Do you remember when we first met?”

  She nodded. “It was shortly after my mother… died.”

  “My mother and I came here to offer our condolences and to help where we could,” Bryce continued. “You were three. I was six years old.”

  “I remember.”

  “You were grieving over the loss of your mother. Your father had no time for you. Lady Margaret was taking care of your baby brother. You needed a friend, someone to listen to you, to care about what you felt and thought. That was me.”

  Bryce rubbed his temples as the memories flooded back. “We took walks around this pond, and when the ice froze over, we skated over the ice. We laughed.” He paused. “And sometimes we cried.”

  “We were both different then,” she said with a sigh. “We were both so young. It was before life had a chance to leave its mark on us.” She started to say something more, then stopped. Instead, she put her hand in his and squeezed.

  He felt the warmth of her touch, smelled the soft scent of roses. His heartbeat thudded in his ears and a layer of the ice surrounding his heart started to melt. Bryce squeezed his eyes shut, battling memories with everything inside him. This night was supposed to expose her vulnerabilities and leave her raw, not the other way around.

  “We did have fun together back then, did we not?” she asked softly.

  He nodded, not trusting his voice. There had only been that one time in his life when he had allowed himself to feel something other than hatred for everyone in his family, and that was his time with Jane. Though he and his mother had only stayed a fortnight, it had been long enough to show Bryce all he had been missing.

  After that, he had been forced to return home to the man who constantly reminded him of what a soulless failure he was. The emotional abuse had continued for years. And although he had returned to Bellhaven on many occasions after that, he and Jane had never again been that close.

  His hope was that tonight would change all that.

  The bonfire before them kept the chill air at bay and cast a red-gold light across the frozen pond. Bryce gripped Jane’s hand more securely in his own and got to his feet, taking her with him. “Would you like to see what I have planned?”

  She nodded as he drew her to the pond’s edge, then knelt in the snow before her, slipping pattens onto her feet. “We are going skating just like we did so many years ago.” When he had finished with her pattens he slipped a larger pair over his own boots. He held out his hand and waited for her to accept him. His goal had changed. He would not push or prod or manipulate Jane tonight. What she did, she did of her own volition. He wanted her to see he could be that boy he had been so long ago—a friend and a companion.

  “Do you like the idea?” he asked, tucking a flyaway strand of hair behind her ear.

  Jane smiled. She could feel the night wrap around her, pulling her back into the past, until she was a young girl, standing on the edge of the pond with him. “Yes, Bryce. I like it very much. It has been so long since I have taken the time to simply have some sport.”

  “Tonight, sport is all I want for you.”

  She hesitated a moment. “Is the ice thick enough?”

  “I tested it earlier. I would never endanger your life unnecessarily, Jane, you have to know that.”

  Despite all the mad events that had happened in the past month that made the others suspect Bryce of foul play, she did believe he would never harm her. What reason would he have for doing so? If she died, he would inherit. If she failed to marry, he would inherit. If she married him, he would inherit. Even if she married someone else, Bellhaven would be his unless she had children of her own. There were so many reasons for him not to harm her. Why would he risk everything by committing a crime that could take it all away?

  She looked over the pond, with the shimmering lights around the edge, and smiled. Bryce would never harm her. He had far too much to lose if he did.

  Without hesitation, she put her hand in his and together they stepped out onto the ice. Laughing, she allowed him to pull her across the slippery surface of the pond. Cool air shivered across her cheeks and tangled in her hair.

  Bryce looked happier than she had seen him in many years as he twirled her around, his laughter joining hers. Backlit by the huge blanket of a starry night, his eyes were no longer filled with pain.

  At the center of the pond, they stopped moving, “Thank you for this night, Bryce,” she whispered. She brought her fingers up to settle over his heart. “No matter what happens with the rest of your days at Bellhaven and with the competition, will you promise me to keep a bit of the boy you were in here?”

  “I did not think I could. Too much has happened to strip me of my goodness,” he said, his voice tight with emotion. “But perhaps, in time…”

  The night was full of sounds as they continued skating. The bonfire crackled and popped. A soft breeze rustled the branches of the apple trees near the pond. A hiss, a pop, and a keening whine grew ever closer.

  Jane stopped skating. She looked around her.

  “What is it?” Bryce asked with a frown.

  “That sound.”

  He released her hands and turned toward the fire. “Perhaps one of the logs—”

  A thunderous crash sounded.

  Jane gasped at the sight of a cannonball, cleaving through the thick ice.

  Time slowed. The sound of cracking filled the air. Fissures spread from the hole across the surface of the ice. The pond rocked. The ice cracked, opened, and Jane pitched forward. Her scream dwindled as she fell, ending abruptly with a loud splash.

  Jane could hear her own breathing, sharp and gasping. Only a handbreadth from her, Bryce reached out, trying to grab her as he, too, was swallowed up by the frigid water. Down they went, into the cold, dark depth.

  Jane fought against the weight of her skirts and her cloak tugging her down. She released her cloak. Slowly, torturously, she dragged herself up with her hands, fighting for each inch, fighting to keep the darkness a
t bay. She needed to grab something solid. She reached out. She could not think. The black fog in her brain was paralyzing. Then air hit her face and she gulped in a breath, urging herself forward. She was lifted clear out of the water and nestled in a strong embrace.

  “Praise the saints.” Nicholas’s voice cracked as he picked her up in his arms and pulled her against his body, his warmth. A cloak went around her shoulders, then another.

  “B-Bryce?” she asked, her teeth chattering. “I-Is he a-alive?”

  “David went in after him,” Nicholas’s voice reassured.

  Her heart pounded frantically against her ribs and she heard her own panicked breathing, fast and shallow, as she waited for someone to report on Bryce’s condition.

  Her mind was still sluggish, still grappling with what had happened. She strained to hear over the shouts and splashing water.

  “A cannonball annihilated the ice.”

  “God’s teeth. When are we going to catch this villain?”

  “From the trajectory, it looks like the weapon was fired from the south tower.”

  “I will go take a look.”

  “I see David.”

  “Throw me a rope.”

  “We got him!”

  “Pull him up.”

  The voices all blended together as Jane shook her head, desperate to clear the fog of confusion. “I a-am b-better now,” she stated, forcing a calmness she did not feel into her voice.

  Nicholas set her down and tightened the cloaks about her body. “David pulled Bryce up from the bottom.”

  And as if they did not have enough to contend with at the moment, it started to snow. Light flakes at first, then heavier. Through a veil of white, Jane took in the scene. Bryce lay on the ground, pale and lifeless. His thoroughly soaked cloak tangled about him like a frigid cocoon. David plucked the cloak away while Colin turned him onto his side. Both men’s clothes were clinging to them with wetness as they kneeled beside Bryce on the frozen ground. David pounded on Bryce’s back with violent force. “Cough it up, you fool,” he pleaded.

  Bryce jerked, then retched, the water leaving his body. His chest moved up, then down, and a slight curl of mist coiled toward the sky.

  “He is breathing,” David announced, his gaze connecting with Jane’s a moment before he and Colin lifted Bryce by the arms and settled his arms about their shoulders. “We must get him back to the keep.”

  Nicholas slipped his arm around Jane and pulled her against his side. Feeling suddenly unsteady, whether it was from the accident or his nearness she was not certain. No matter the cause, she was grateful for his support and leaned against him as they made their way back inside.

  Over a murmur of voices, David, Bryce, and Colin climbed the stairs inside the great hall to the bedchambers above. Nicholas helped Jane up the stairs and they arrived at Bryce’s bedchamber just as the men set him on the down-turned bedding. David piled two blankets atop Bryce’s body. “Has someone sent for the doctor?” Jane asked.

  “I have,” Lady Margaret said as she swept into the chamber. She delivered a steaming washbasin to the bedside table. Egan followed in her wake. He sat at the edge of the bed and began to wipe away the grime from Bryce’s colorless cheeks with a hot towel.

  Lady Margaret’s gaze shifted to Jane. “Dearest, are you unharmed?” she asked solemnly. “When I heard the news, I was so frightened.”

  “I am well,” Jane reassured her aunt. “Bryce suffered far more injury than me.”

  Jules left the crowed bedside to add several fresh logs to the fire, trying to heat up the chamber and bring Bryce’s temperature back to normal.

  “Jane?” Bryce groaned. He reached out toward her.

  Jane left Nicholas’s side. She sat on the bed opposite of Egan and took her cousin’s cold hand in her own shaking one. “I am here, Bryce.” She smiled down at him.

  He met her gaze and tried to smile. “Our evening… did not go… as planned.”

  She reached up and brushed a soggy lock of hair from his cheek. He was deathly pale. It filled her with a cold, expanding dread. “You are still with us. For that, I am grateful.”

  She caught David’s gaze. “Thank you.”

  He nodded.

  “Bryce is not the only one who needs some attention. Go, all of you, to your chambers,” Lady Margaret said with a concerned frown. “Get out of your wet clothes. I have arranged for the kitchen staff to bring hot water. I say a few baths are in order tonight.”

  Lady Margaret caught Jane’s arm and turned her toward the door. “Standing about in wet clothes will not help any of you. Egan will bathe Bryce, make him comfortable, and change him into clean clothing while we wait for the doctor to arrive.”

  With Lady Margaret’s help, Jane continued to her chamber. She hurried to the fire that burned there and nearly stood in the grate until her chills had settled. When her hands had stopped shaking from cold, she doffed her wet clothes, washed herself in a basin of hot water, then dressed before heading down the stairs to the great hall. She paused on the bottom step, listening to her suitors, who had gathered there after their own ministrations.

  “The bastard has to slip up sometime,” David growled from his place at the long table. His hair was still wet, but other than that, he bore no sign that anything out of the ordinary had transpired.

  “Will it be before or after someone dies?” Jules prowled the dais in agitation.

  “The cannon on the south tower was still warm when I got there,” Colin said, looking tidy and as handsome as ever. “But there were no clues as to who fired the weapon. None.”

  “As much as I hate to admit this, it is as if we are dealing with a ghost,” Nicholas said, raking a hand through his hair.

  “Nay!” Lord Galloway thumped his fist on the table, his brown eyes narrowing. “The villain is real. And now we know that person is not Bryce.”

  “Or any of the rest of us, as we were all together at the time of the attack.” Colin frowned.

  “Unless one of us has an agent doing their bidding,” Jules retorted.

  Jane shivered at the accusation. They had to find the attacker—and fast, before the men started fighting one another. She did not know why, but she was confident none of her suitors were responsible for all the attacks on her, Margaret, and now Bryce.

  “Perhaps it was that man Barker, whom Bryce hired to do his bidding?” Colin suggested.

  “It was not he.” Jane stepped down into the chamber and approached the others. “I questioned him this afternoon, then released him. I would hazard to guess that since Bryce is now among those of us who were attacked, the attacker wants to make certain the succession of Bellhaven does not go through the Lennox-MacCallister bloodlines.”

  “At least we have a motive if nothing else to go on,” Lord Galloway replied.

  Nicholas stood and offered Jane his chair. “What do you know of the estate’s holdings?”

  Jane accepted the seat. “Very little other than the wealth of our estate is in the land surrounding Bellhaven. Properly farmed, it could produce far more revenue than it does now.”

  “Your father and brother had not seen to that with the tenants?” Jules asked with a frown.

  Jane shook her head, trying to recall all her father and brother had discussed. “For some reason, Father seemed hesitant to change anything about the land. I overheard him talking with Jacob once that his men had found silver and gold particles in the ore dug from Ben Haven on the eastern border of our land.”

  David frowned. “They never mined the shaft?”

  “Not to my knowledge,” Jane replied. “Again, he seemed hesitant to do anything to alter the estate from its present way of life.”

  Nicholas’s gaze narrowed. “Is the estate failing in any way?”

  Jane paused at the question. “Nay. It produces adequately. We want for nothing, except an army to protect us.”

  Jules stopped his pacing. “What other motive could there be besides the inheritance of the estate?”
r />   “Revenge,” David said quietly. “My apologies, Jane, but your father was not known for his amiability.”

  “No offense taken,” she said, catching David’s eyes. “I am aware of his faults.” She shuddered, closing her eyes for a brief moment, clinging to a fraying thread of hope that he and Jacob were still alive. Despite the emotional rift that had come between them after her mother’s death, he was still her father and she loved him.

  Jane opened her eyes. “My father was human. He made mistakes like anyone else. I am unaware of him treating anyone unfairly in his dealings with the estate.”

  Except her.

  Jane tucked the thought away, deep inside. None of that mattered now. She straightened. The only thing that mattered, besides staying alive, was getting married in less than a week.

  Five more days to be precise.

  “Lady Jane,” Lord Galloway said, breaking into her thoughts. “I knew your father, but not well. Did he have any other close friends who might have known more about his activities than perhaps his own family?”

  “The only two friends in the peerage who visited here often were Lord Fairfield and Lord Wigan. Both sent messengers expressing their condolences shortly after my father failed to return from that last battle. When it later became known that Jacob might have been lost as well, Lord Fairfield came himself.” She drew in a short, sharp breath at the memory of her father’s friend’s arrival; at his daring proposal to make her his mistress and take over her land without so much as a fight.

  Nicholas caught her expression, his frown deepening. “What did he want?”

  For a heartbeat she was tempted to remind him of his soiling of her name and opening her up to indecent proposals like the one Lord Fairfield had offered. Then she drew another breath and changed her mind. They had been down that road before. Nicholas claimed he had not hurt her. She knew otherwise.

  When she did not reply, Nicholas stood. “Let us bring Lord Fairfield here and ask him ourselves.”

  “Nay,” Jane said, scraping the chair against the floor in her haste to stand. “I will not have that man in this castle. Never again.” Jane locked her cold hands together, suddenly jittery and afraid. Lord Fairfield only reminded her of the things she could not control in her life. Her anxiety heightened a notch as she backed away from the table. “You will obey my wishes on this, Sir Nicholas, or you will be dismissed from this competition.”