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“About Grace,” Robert answered angrily. “Come inside. I am not standing out here discussing private business with you—the men will hear.”
Fergus glared at his brother for a moment, then nodded and followed Robert into the house, but he was surprised when they went into the smallest parlor, the one closest to the stairs down to the kitchen.
“Why are we sitting here?” he asked. “What’s wrong with your study?”
“I saw a mouse in there the other day,” Robert answered him, not meeting Fergus’s eyes. “The servants are cleaning it.”
Fergus stared at him for a moment. He could always tell when Robert was lying, and he knew he was lying now. He wondered what had really happened. He decided to try to find out, but not today. Robert obviously had Grace on his mind, and that worried him. “What did you want to talk to me about?” he asked again, sitting back in a comfortable chair and folding his arms.
Robert studied his brother for a moment, thinking about their relationship. Once, they had been as close as any two brothers could be, but since the breaking of his own betrothal to Ailsa Ballantyne and his subsequent engagement to Grace, things had not quite been the same. He loved Fergus as much as he ever had, but strangely, he also resented him, even more now that he had taken his bride from him.
“I heard that you have been talking about me to Grace,” he replied. “I wanted to know why.” He stopped and looked at his brother steadily.
“I was talking to her quite openly,” Fergus admitted. “And it was a conversation that anyone could have had with her. There is no secret. I just wanted to know if she was happy about marrying you.” He stared at Robert, who stared back, but it was Robert who dropped his gaze first.
Robert raised his eyebrows in disbelief. “And is this a conversation anyone could have had?” he asked, with a cynical laugh. “Tell me, Fergus, how angry are you with me for taking away your bride?”
Fergus sighed, then ran his hand backwards through his thick dark hair in a gesture of agitation. Of course he was angry, but he loved and respected Robert, although sometimes he wondered why. But he loved Grace too, and although he had to use every bit of self-control he had, he gave Robert an answer that he hoped would pass muster.
“I was angry at first,” he admitted, “but I have had time to get used to the idea now, and I’m resigned to it. I will find myself another bride. There are plenty of lovely young women out there.” Fergus was lying, because there would never be another woman for him but Grace, but he did not want to make the situation any worse than it already was.
“There are,” Robert agreed, somewhat mollified. “So what other business did you have to talk about?” He raised his eyebrows and searched Fergus’s face.
“If you are accusing me of asking her not to marry you, you are mistaken, Rob,” Fergus assured him. “Grace and I are just friends now, and you have nothing to fear. If it comforts you, I will try not to be alone with her. All I wish for her—for both of you—is happiness, and that you treat her with courtesy and gentleness.”
“That will not be difficult,” Robert said firmly. “I can promise you that without hesitation.”
“You must remember what a shock it was for me to have my bride taken away from me,” he said. “I am still recovering from that, so please make allowances for me; like any other person, I am not perfect.” He looked into his brother’s face with complete honesty, his pain plain to see.
“I see,” Robert’s voice was flinty. “Fergus, are you not exaggerating just a wee bit? You are a handsome man; as you said before, there are plenty of young ladies out there to choose from. Perhaps we should have a ceilidh and start looking for a bride for you!”
‘I don’t want just any bride,’he thought sadly.‘I only want Grace.’Aloud, he said: “perhaps that would be a good idea.” He had to at least seem to be cooperating.
“I hear Laird McLellan is looking for a husband for his daughter, Alisa,” Robert mused. “She is a fine girl; you could do worse.”
‘And I could do much, much better,’Fergus thought. He conjured up a picture of the young woman in his mind. She was reasonably bonny, although she did not have Grace’s delicate beauty. She was also thinner than she should have been, as if she was constantly ill. But that was not what spoiled her in Fergus’s eyes. She never smiled, and always had an air of sadness and misery about her. He could not imagine any circumstances that could possibly make him share his life with someone like that.
“In the meantime,” Robert said, suddenly switching to a more pointed tone, “stay away from my bride.”
“I already said I would,” Fergus answered. “I am a man of my word, Rob, and you know that.”
Robert frowned at him threateningly and said: “you had better be.” Then he stood up, and to Fergus’s surprise, he embraced his brother and smiled at him as he left.
Fergus sat where he was for a long time. He no longer had the energy or the inclination to get up and go train. He hated himself for surrendering to Robert’s demands and giving Grace away as if she were an unwanted gift. He felt as though he had given away his heart to his brother too, because Grace was his heart, and he was a coward. He growled in anger and frustration, wondering why he had not stood up to Robert. Why had he not fought harder for Grace? She must have lost all respect for him by now.
He thumped his fist on his thigh. Damn! Why had he not been stronger?
* * *
Grace had been resting in her room, unwilling to go out and perhaps bump into Fergus again. Her heart was so sore, that she doubted whether she could stand any more encounters with him, but she knew that she had to, since they would, after all, be living side by side.
She wondered if she would be strong enough to do that, or if she would give in to the passion she felt, seek him out and have him make love to her. Then she realized that it would never happen because Fergus was a creature of duty, who always obeyed the rules. This was made clear by the fact that he had broken their agreement to marry, in favor of his family’s welfare, and she had no doubt that once she had made her marriage vows, he would respect them. She should be furious with him; she had tried to be, but she simply could not find enough anger in her heart.
No, there would be no illicit meetings in dark corners, or under the eaves of the trees with Fergus. She sighed deeply, wishing she could turn back the clock. Her life would be so much easier if she had simply never met him, but then she realized that it would also be somehow empty without Fergus MacAndrew in it.
Grace whipped her blankets off and got to her feet. Her thoughts were becoming tangled, and her head was beginning to ache. Crissy had gone out on an errand of her own, and William was once more training with the guards, so both of her confidants were out of reach.
She rose from her bed and dressed herself for dinner, picking out the first dress she laid her hands on in her armoire, then pinned her hair up into a tight, unflattering knot at the back of her head. She proceeded along the corridor and downstairs, but to her infinite annoyance, she saw Robert waiting for her at the last step.
