Page 7 of Married for a Highland Debt
He sighed. “I caught one of my staff giving the prisoners extra food,” he replied, “and as usual, I said the first thing that came into my head. It was, of course, the wrong thing. Dammit, Auntie, why can I not think before I speak?”
Alison Ogilvy was the nearest thing to a mother that Ninian had ever known, and he loved her dearly. She was tall and sturdily built like the rest of the family, with the same bright blue eyes. Her hair was graying, but she was a handsome woman nevertheless.
“Sit down beside me.” She patted the couch, and they sat down next to each other. “Tell me everything, but do it calmly, Ninian. You must try to find a way to control this fire inside you.”
Ninian nodded slowly. “I know, Auntie,” he sighed. “But saying it is much easier than doing it.”
“Who was it who was giving food to the prisoners?” Alison asked. “And why was he doing it?”
“It was a woman,” he replied. “One of my kitchen staff.”
Alison studied Ninian for a while. All anyone could see was the hard shell he had built around himself. The image of a man made of stone was reinforced by his height, muscular build, and the rugged handsomeness of his face. There was absolutely nothing delicate about him, but she knew him better than anyone else in the world. There was a broken heart inside, but although many people knew that, no one guessed that it was still capable of healing; all it needed was the right woman to do it.
“What kind of food was it?” she asked. “Good food? The kind you would eat?”
“No. Mostly scraps.” He felt ashamed as he said it. “I should not have begrudged them. They would likely have been thrown away anyway.”
“What is the girl’s name?” Alison went on as she poured them each a glass of wine.
“Bridie,” he replied, staring into the fire.
“I have seen her about her duties,” Alison remarked. “Small, brown hair? Very beautiful?”
“Not very beautiful, Auntie,” he answered. “But attractive enough.” The words looked as though they were being dragged from him.
Alison smiled inwardly. “And she speaks very nicely too,” she observed. “She has obviously grown up in a privileged home. She must have made some impression on you; otherwise, you would not be so upset.” Alison looked at him keenly.
Ninian hated that look. It always made him feel as though he was five years old again. Sometimes he thought his aunt Alison could read his mind, but he would not change that or any other thing about her. She was his rock and his anchor, the person who had stood by him during the breakup of his marriage; she had staunchly petitioned the church on his behalf for the divorce.
“I know nothing about her,” he growled. “Neither do I care.”
Once again, Alison treated him to her penetrating stare. She had a feeling that whoever this young woman was, she had found a chink in Ninian’s armor. Perhaps now was the time to strike.
“You cannot go on like this, Ninian,” she said firmly. “Margaret is in your past. You must move on. Find another wife. Have children. And if you cannot do that, at least count your blessings. But that is not what I want for you. You are capable of great love, my boy, and I hate to see you waste it.”
Ninian put his head on her shoulder. “How can I, Auntie?” he asked sadly. “All women—except you—are faithless.”
Alison suddenly pushed him away. “You know that is not true!” she cried angrily. “Do not judge all of us by one bad experience, Ninian. You remember that I warned you about Margaret before you married her, but all of us are not vain and selfish like her. In fact, we are far more caring than men. Why do you think we were made to be the carriers and nurturers of children? Why do you think our bodies were given the means to nourish them in the first months of life?” She gripped his upper arms and shook him. “You should not punish this young woman. You should thank her for her charity. Have you dismissed her?”
“Yes.” Ninian nodded, then hung his head. “Before I took a moment to think about it.”
“What had these criminals done?” Alison asked curiously. “Rape? Murder?”
He shook his head. “They poached one of my deer—a fine stag.”
“Did it occur to you that they might be hungry?” Alison’s tone was relentless. “Their families’ bellies might be empty while your fine stags are galloping around the hills munching on fine grass with all the does they need to make more fine stags.”
Ninian sighed. “You are right, Auntie. I should have been more merciful. In the morning, I will tell Bridie she still has a job and instruct the cook to give the prisoners more food.”
“And if I were you,” Alison said softly, “I would talk to these men and find out their circumstances. I would wager that most of them are only stealing because they have to.”
“What would I do without you, Auntie?” Ninian smiled and hugged her. “You are my best friend.”
“I would never want to be anything else,” she said fondly.
Ninian took a sip of his wine and lapsed into a thoughtful silence. After a moment, he said: “I have an idea.”
“Tell me what it is,” Alison urged, raising her eyebrows.
