Tamed by a Laird

by Amanda Scott

  “Aye, of course they are,” Reid said, glancing at Phaeline. “Dunwythie and Phaeline saw to everything.”

  She said, “I cannot think why they should concern you, my dear Hugh.”

  “Why, how can they not when I am head of the family? It is no less than my duty to look them over. Just think what folks would say of me if aught went awry.”

  “There is no need to look at them, I assure you,” Phaeline said firmly.

  Dunwythie, looking surprised, said, “Bless us, my dear! Hugh has every right to see them. As head of your family, he is responsible for Reid’s well-being.”

  “Pish-tush,” she snapped. “When has Hugh ever cared for that?”

  “Can you lay your hand on them now, sir?” Hugh asked Dunwythie.

  “Aye, sure,” Dunwythie said, getting up. “I’ll just fetch them, shall I?”

  “Perhaps you could send someone else,” Hugh suggested. “In troth, I do not want to stay longer than necessary. I have information that I must present to Archie Douglas’s attention as soon as possible. My intention was to deliver her ladyship to you and then take my leave.”

  He took care not to look at Jenny.

  Dunwythie said amiably, “Aye, sure, I’ll just step out and ask one of the lads to fetch those documents.”

  Phaeline glowered at Hugh, but he did not speak, and she apparently could think of naught to the purpose to say to him. The blessed silence made Jenny decide that, for once, Hugh’s family reputation for obstinacy was serving a good turn.

  Even Reid was silent.

  When Dunwythie returned, Hugh said, “I did ask her ladyship about those settlements, my lord. She seems unable to recall anything about them.”

  Dunwythie shrugged. “There was no need to discuss them with her. Sakes, but a lass can know nowt of such matters.”

  Jenny stiffened again but, encountering another look, held her tongue.

  With a slight smile, Hugh said, “You must know that the late Lord Easdale taught her all he knew about managing their estates. And since she is now Baroness Easdale in her own right, she is surely capable of understanding anything to do with her property. Moreover, she has the legal right to know exactly what arrangements you have made on her behalf and with regard to that property. In troth, if I do not mistake the law in such matters, she is required to sign any settlements.”

  “I signed for her,” Dunwythie said. “As I doubt she can even read them—”

  “My father taught me to read,” Jenny said indignantly, not caring this time if Hugh did shoot a warning look at her.

  But he said only, “There, you see, sir. Legally, you cannot sign for someone who is herself capable of understanding your negotiations and signing the related documents. No magistrate would uphold your signature if she challenged it.”

  “But he is her guardian!” Reid exclaimed. “He has every authority over her.”

  “Unless her father named him steward of her lands as well as guardian of her person, you are mistaken. Well, my lord?”

  “He named me her guardian,” Dunwythie said. “One presumed, since she is a mere female, and so young…” He spread his hands.

  “You assumed incorrectly and should, if I may say so, have inquired into the rights of it long before the betrothal ceremony.”

  “Aye, well, we can set it all to rights,” Dunwythie said as the door opened and a manservant entered. “Here are the documents now. She can just sign them, and all will be in order.”

  As Jenny opened her mouth, Hugh said hastily, “Tell me this, Dunwythie. What arrangement did you agree to for the Easdale estates?”

  “Why the usual one, to be sure,” he said.

  “Usual, sir? How would you know what is usual? How often have you negotiated for a baroness in her own right?”

  Lord Dunwythie looked at his wife.

  Phaeline said, “Naturally, Hugh, the management of her estates will be in Reid’s hands. That is as you would wish it to be, I am sure.”

  “Even if that were true,” he said, “you cannot make such an arrangement without her consent, not when her ladyship holds the barony in her own right. Only she can release that right to someone else.”

  Dunwythie, Jenny thought, looked honestly surprised.

  So, in his own way, did Reid.

  Hugh said, “I’ll just glance over those documents for myself now, shall I?”

  Chapter 15

  Tense silence engulfed the room as Hugh took the documents and began to read. Jenny noted that Reid was frowning thoughtfully as he looked at Phaeline again, but Phaeline’s expression was indecipherable. Dunwythie watched Hugh.

  He read fast, and Jenny could judge nothing by his expression. She did think, when he set aside the first page, that his movements lacked their usual lithe grace.

  She was wishing she could know what he was reading when he glanced at her and reached for the sheet of vellum he had put aside.

  Without comment, he handed it to her and went back to his reading.

  Seeing Phaeline’s lips press tightly together, Jenny did not look at Reid. Determined to conceal any reaction she might have, she began to read.

  By the end of the page, she knew why no one had discussed the settlements with her. Knowing she could not trust herself to speak without losing control, she suppressed her anger, set the sheet aside, and accepted the second one from Hugh.

  Reminding herself again of his advice not to let them see that they had disconcerted her—surely, such advice applied to fury even more than to disconcertion—she kept her mind focused on the words.

  It occurred to her abruptly that as Hugh was Reid’s brother, and Phaeline’s, family duty might stir him to approve their acquisition of the Easdale estates, and the barony title, as well. He was, after all, head of their family.

  Deciding she had no need to read more, she looked at him.

  He was still reading. When she saw a muscle twitch in his jaw, she inhaled deeply and relaxed, not realizing until then that she had been holding her breath.

  He lowered the pages he still held and looked at Dunwythie.

  “I will be civil enough to accept your word that you thought you were acting in her ladyship’s best interest,” Hugh said. “However, we will have to renegotiate these settlements, and she will take her full part in that discussion.”

  Looking bewildered, her uncle said, “Surely not the whole thing! Which particular agreements concern you, Sir Hugh?”

  Impatiently, Hugh said, “Guardian or not, Dunwythie, you do not have any right to sign away her estates, let alone to sign away her inherited title.”

  Jenny detected a hard edge to his impatience. Looking at Phaeline and Reid, she knew that Phaeline at least had also recognized it and knew Hugh was angry.

  He went on, “Imagine, sir, if some well-meaning but ignorant person were to do this to the lady Mairi after you died. Would you want that to happen?”

  “Sakes, I should hope that her guardian would choose her husband carefully and then do exactly as I did.” Dunwythie said. “I selected Reid because I could be sure of advising him and keeping an eye on things. Mairi will likewise need good counsel. She has no knowledge whatsoever of how to manage my estates!”

  “Then it is your duty to teach her,” Hugh said.

  “That is quite unnecessary,” Phaeline said testily. “Janet’s father never remarried or had a son, but my lord husband will soon have a proper male heir, God willing. You speak most prematurely of training Mairi for the position, sir.”

  “Do I? Mairi is eighteen and still has no brother. She deserves the same careful training that Jenny received from her father, training that Jenny must have described to you both. I’d wager the late Lord Easdale mentioned that training in his will, too. He seems to have thought of most things she might need to protect her.”

  For the first time, Lord Dunwythie looked flustered. “I own, I did not read the entire will. Once I saw that I was to be her guardian…” He spread his hands.

  “You
assumed you’d take full control. Do you have a fair copy of his will?”

  “Aye, sure,” Dunwythie said. “I expect you’ll want to see that, too, now.”

  As Hugh nodded, Phaeline said testily, “That, too, is unnecessary. Look here, Hugh. You take too much upon yourself.”

  “Peace, my love,” Dunwythie said gently. “You upset yourself to no purpose. Hugh is right about the will. Mayhap he is also right about teaching Mairi. It can do no harm, after all, and may even help her find a husband.”

  “ ’Tis only practical to teach her,” Hugh said. “We all know how abruptly an unexpected death can change the lives of everyone it touches. Indeed, sir, you should teach both of your daughters. Thanks to years of strife and battle here in the Borders, many of our women have inherited titles in their own right. And, despite the present truce, such strife could reoccur at any time. Therefore—”

  “I see what it is,” Reid snapped. “You’re afraid that I’ll own more land than you do, and an older barony. That would give me precedence, and you have always resented me! You and Father just wanted to rid yourselves of me. Only Phaeline—”

  “That will do,” Hugh interjected in a tone that brooked no argument.

  “But no woman can manage estates as well as a man can,” Phaeline put in swiftly. “You must know that, Hugh. In troth, you should support Reid’s claim.”

  “You astonish me, Phaeline. I’d expect you of all people to agree that a well-trained woman must be a better manager than an untrained man. Has anyone trained Reid, or is his sex alone enough recommendation for the task, in your opinion?”

  “If anyone should have trained him, it is you!” Phaeline said waspishly.

  “I should have, aye. But Thornhill is not on the moon, and having accepted your insistence that you knew what was best for him, I left him to you. Moreover, as far as I can tell, he has shown small interest in learning anything.”

  Jenny, seeing Reid grimace, wondered if he would speak for himself or if Phaeline would defend him again, but both remained silent.

  “Just so,” Hugh said. Hefting the pages he held, he added, “If any or all of the three of you thought you could simply seize these estates, you would soon have learned your error. Not only does Jenny know that a husband cannot take her title against her will, but the law would be wholly on her side if she had to fight these settlements. They are worthless. You must tear them up and negotiate new ones.”

  “Then that is what we will do,” Phaeline said, nodding reassuringly at Reid.

  “No, we won’t,” Jenny said, standing. “I won’t sign anything of the sort. As every one of you has known from the outset, I do not want to marry Reid Douglas.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Reid snapped. “You are promised to me in the sight of God, and I will hold you to that promise.”

  Hugh said gently, “You might succeed, too, were there no just impediment to such a union. However, much as you will dislike hearing it, I’m afraid there is one.”

  “What the devil are you nattering about now?” Reid demanded.

  “Why, only that Jenny is already married,” Hugh told him. “To me.”

  In the uproar that followed, Hugh’s temper—which had fought for release from the moment they had entered the solar—rapidly subsided. The sight of his sister, Reid, and Dunwythie all bursting into speech at once was amusing enough to ease his fury with all three, albeit not enough to obliterate it.

  He made out only a few phrases here and there, but Phaeline and Reid seemed to accuse him of betraying the Douglas family and Dunwythie of betraying his own. Dunwythie, oblivious to the other two, kept repeating demands for an explanation.

  In the midst of it, Jenny stood still, looking cool and aloof, as if she were a visiting dignitary and a cluster of local children had suddenly begun to quarrel. It had, she might as well have said, nothing to do with her.

  To Hugh, she looked like an island of tranquility in the midst of a storm, although he had no doubt that under that cool façade, she was seething.

  Nothing she had said to him suggested that she harbored affection for any of the three, but she had to feel Dunwythie’s betrayal especially. As her guardian—faith, as her uncle by marriage—he owed her his honest duty. But whether through ineptitude or his unfortunate habit of bowing to his wife’s every whim and fancy in a natural, masculine desire for peace, he had let Jenny down badly.

  Reid’s voice suddenly soared above the others as he whirled toward Hugh. “I knew you would try to ruin everything for me! Damn you, Hugh Douglas!”

  “Peace, lad,” Hugh said, bracing himself hopefully. “None of this was my doing.” He nearly added that it was none of Jenny’s either, but honesty forbade that, since her abrupt departure from Annan House had begun it all.

  In any event, Reid did not give him time to speak, shouting, “Not your doing? How can that be if you have married the curst woman?”

  “Mind your tongue, for I want to hear no more of that,” Hugh said curtly. “My following her to the minstrels’ camp created a misunderstanding. Believing I was a suitor and that she liked me and needed a protector, they arranged a play about a marriage in which we believed we played roles. The priest, however, was real.”

  Reid sputtered, “But… but so what if he was?”

  “It means the ceremony was likewise real, and a priest lacks authority to undo a marriage. Nevertheless, you will have no difficulty getting it annulled, my lord,” he said to Dunwythie. “Their prior betrothal will ease the way. The process will take time, of course, but ’tis time you will doubtless devote to sorting out things here. In any event, as I said, I must go to Threave. It is at best a two-day journey from here, and there is some urgency.”

  “If there is urgency, lad, you may want to travel faster,” Dunwythie said. “I can arrange for you to take a ship from Annan to Kirkcudbright if you like. From there, I believe, it is but a few miles or so to Threave.”

  “If you have men’s business to discuss now, I doubt anyone can think it concerns Janet,” Phaeline said. “And, as you will remain here whilst we arrange your annulment, Janet, you may retire now to your bedchamber. When you are ready to apologize properly for your rash behavior, you may do so. Until then—”

  “No,” Jenny said flatly.

  “No? By heaven, whilst you are under this roof, you will do as you are—”

  “No, Phaeline, I will not. I am going to Threave with Sir Hugh.”

  Hugh was still considering Dunwythie’s offer of a ship and had paid little heed to the exchange, but at these words, he looked at Jenny.

  “Now, lass,” he said firmly, “we’ve already decided that you’ll stay here.”

  “We did not,” she retorted. “You declared that I would, but that was before I understood all that has taken place here. You are still my husband, are you not?”

  “Aye, legally, I am,” he admitted.

  “Then, until the annulment my place is with you. After all, it is your duty to protect me, and they have proven beyond doubt that I cannot trust them.”

  As Hugh tried to think of something sensible to say that would refute her logic, Reid said, “Faith, she’s probably already slept with him!”

  “Nay, lad, that is not—”

  “Aye, sure,” Jenny declared roundly. “I have slept with him.”

  “Now, see here,” Hugh exclaimed. “She does not know what she is—”

  “I knew it!” Reid exclaimed. “By heaven, you do want thrashing, and I—”

  “Enough!” Hugh roared, stepping between them as the thought of Reid touching Jenny snapped the tenuous hold he had on his temper. “By God, Jenny is right. I am her husband, and as far as I’m concerned, the only way we’ll see any annulment is if Jenny wants one. Until that day, she is my wife and will remain so!”

  Jenny swayed dizzily. Such an impulsive speech was the last thing she had expected to hear from Hugh. She had hoped only that he would agree to take her to Threave, because she wanted less than ever to s
tay at Annan House.

  Phaeline and Reid would both exert themselves to make her miserable. And although Mairi and Fiona would be kind to her, it would not be enough.

  But to stay married to Hugh… she had to think about that.

  He was watching her now, narrowly, as if he would judge her reaction. Well, she would recall his good advice yet again and reveal her feelings to no one.

  Accordingly, she turned to Dunwythie and said matter-of-factly, “How soon can a ship set sail from Annan Harbor, my lord?”

  “Sakes, lassie, we must talk about this,” he said, glancing at the others.

  “How soon, sir?” Jenny repeated.

  Looking at Hugh and finding no support there, he said, “ ’Tis best just now if ye leave on a morning tide. Sithee, Kirkcudbright lies some fifty miles from here. But whilst that would mean two long days’ travel on horseback, or longer if snow flies again, ’tis nobbut a half day’s journey by galley if ye go with the ebbing tide.”

  “Then we can leave tomorrow morning, sir,” she said to Hugh.

  “We’ll see what his lordship learns of ships in the harbor first,” Hugh said.

  “Very well, then I shall see to my packing. I do not mean to visit the Lord of Galloway with only this kirtle, two shifts, one pair of boots, and a cloak.” Curtsying to Dunwythie, she added, “Pray, grant me leave to go to my chamber, my lord.”

  “Aye, to be sure, lass. But ye shouldna go like this. ’Tis as if ye were running away again, and I cannot believe we’ve been so unkind to ye as to make ye do that.”

  “I’ll talk with her, my lord,” Hugh said. “But you should ask your conscience if it was kindness to negotiate those marriage settlements without consulting her about them or referring to the late Lord Easdale’s will for his direction.”

  “Aye, lad, I ought to have read the will. And I’ll grant ye, the lass did say summat about his teaching her. But she’s still just a lass for all that. Still, ye were right to say I should teach mine own lassies summat about managing my estates.”