Page 8 of Married for a Highland Debt
“I am going to ask her to marry me,” Ninian answered. “What do you think, Auntie? We would not have to love each other, but I need an heir, and I would treat her well and support her family. I could do much worse.”
For a moment, Alison could hardly breathe. “But you hardly know her!” she said at last.
“Neither did my mother and father,” he pointed out. “And they were happy.”
Alison thought for a moment, smiled, then hugged him tightly. “Perhaps it is not such a bad idea,” she mused, then smiled. “Let me know what her answer is.”
4
Ninian lay in bed for a long time that morning, thinking about what he would say to Bettina, before he got up, washed, and dressed for the day. Damn, he dreaded seeing her. But at the same time, he relished it, for, despite himself, the sight of Bettina’s beautiful heart-shaped face and tiny curvaceous figure did things to his man’s body that he had not felt since Margaret left. Yes, he needed an heir, but there were dozens of eager young women beating his door down for the chance to be the mother of his children, despite his fearsome reputation.
“What is so special about her?” he asked aloud. He often talked to himself when no one was around to hear him.
He went to his study and bent his head over his account books, but he could not concentrate. Eventually, he stood up, and after a moment’s hesitation, made his way to the kitchen.
“Where is Bridie Henderson?” he demanded as he walked into the hot, steamy room. “I want to speak to her.” His piercing glance swept around all of them, and there was instant panic as Lizzie, Moira, and Ina all tried to talk at once.
“M’Laird, she is pickin’ vegetables,” Lizzie answered, her eyes wide with terror. The laird was a large man, but the force of his personality seemed to make him even bigger than the space he occupied, and the way he glared at them from under his lowered brows was terrifying.
“No, she is in the storeroom,” Moira said hastily, darting a glance at Lizzie.
Ina opened her mouth to speak, but at that moment, Bettina entered the room with a basket of leeks and turnips in her arms.
She was smiling as she turned her head to speak to Lizzie, but the smile faded and died as she saw Ninian standing at the foot of the table, pinning her with his pointed stare. Bettina’s jaw dropped in surprise, and Moira hastily took the vegetables from her before she dropped them.
“M’Laird had come tae see ye,” Lizzie informed her.
Bettina curtsied politely. “I am just leaving, M’Laird,” she said quickly, her heart hammering. “I was just about to come and collect my wages before I went.”
There was a pause while Ninian studied her. She was wearing a ragged work dress that did nothing to hide her feminine figure, and her tangled dark hair was escaping from the knot it was tied in. She had dirt on her hands and smudges of it on her face and was altogether unkempt and disheveled. She should have looked a mess, and she did, but despite it all, she was beautiful. It took a moment before he could collect himself enough to speak.
“Come to my study,” he ordered. “I want to speak to you.”
Bettina wiped her dirty hands down her equally dirty apron. “May I wash my hands and face, M’Laird?” she asked.
“You can do it upstairs,” he replied, then strode out.
Bettina looked around desperately at all her fellow maids, but they could only smile at her encouragingly. She was on her own.
As soon as they entered his study, Ninian ordered hot water, a basin, and a towel for Bettina, and while he did not watch her washing, neither did he turn away.
Bettina was aware of his presence behind her the entire time, and when she dried her hands and face and turned back to him, she was blushing furiously. It had been such a personal act to perform in front of a stranger. She felt guilty, although she had done nothing wrong.
“Why am I here, M’Laird?” she asked, sighing despairingly. “Have you changed your mind?”
Once more, he pinned her with his steely gaze, but this time she did not look away. Suddenly she was not scared of him anymore. If she lost her position in the castle, she would somehow find a way of feeding her family that did not involve dealing with this tyrant of a man.
He leaned forward so that their faces were closer together and narrowed his eyes. “About employing you?” he asked. “Before I answer that, I want to ask a few questions because you interest me. Why is an obviously educated woman like you working as a maid?”
“You asked me that before, M’Laird,” she answered tersely. “And the answer is the same. To feed my family.”
“You could not find something more suited to your talents?” His voice was skeptical. “Keeping accounts, or something similar?”
“Such employment is the preserve of men,” she said scathingly, her eyes dark with anger, “but I might have done if I had had the time to look, but it does not take a person long to starve to death, and I did not have time to waste looking for something better. I am not proud, M’Laird. I am a practical person who does what needs to be done to survive, and if that means scrubbing floors, chopping vegetables, and sweeping ashes out of the fireplaces, then so be it. You pay reasonably well, and I am told that your estate is well run, although I admit I am fairly ignorant of these matters.”
“Why is your father not taking care of your family?” Ninian asked. “I know he is still alive.”
“What does my father have to do with this?” Bettina asked angrily. “My family’s affairs are none of your concern, M’Laird, and if you are not content with that answer...you have terminated my employment already, so you need not concern yourself with me anymore.” She stood up, expecting to be asked to leave, but Ninian also got to his feet and moved around the desk to stand in front of her.
