Page 103 of The Highlander's Princess Bride
He didn’t seem to realize he’d just contradicted his belief that he should have been more decisive with his wife. As far as Victoria was concerned, that confirmed he’d been dealing with an impossible situation.
“What happened after you brought her back to Kinglas?” she asked.
“Nothing, at first. She was happy to see Cam again, and we both made an effort to try to recover what we once had. But my blasted family didn’t make it easy. They were hurt by her betrayal of me and the Kendrick name.”
“One can hardly blame them.”
“No, but I should have realized the effect their disapproval would have on her sensitive nature. I should have done a better job of protecting her, especially from Angus.”
Victoria knew how furious the old man would have been over the betrayal of his laird and grandson.
“They fought, I’m guessing.”
“Yes. Janet had been chafing at what she’d begun to refer to as her incarceration. It had been a particularly cold and dreary winter, and she’d been pressing me to let her return to Glasgow. Angus told her that her duty was to remain at Kinglas with her husband and child, and she should stop acting like a spoiled brat. Naturally, that started a tremendous row.”
She winced, well able to imagine the dreadful scene. “That does sound like Angus.”
“Indeed. When I refused to take her immediately to Glasgow, Janet accused me of not trusting her.” He grimaced. “At that point, I also lost my temper and told her that her past conduct made such trust all but impossible. That was when she claimed that if I’d loved her enough and been there for her, she wouldn’t have sought comfort with other men.”
It took Victoria a moment to tamp down her anger toward the unfortunate woman. “That, sir, is utter nonsense. Your wife’s accusations point to the fact that her mind was sadly disordered. It was not a rational claim to make.”
“In hindsight, I see that. At the time, I simply thought Janet was punishing me when she said she’d rather die than keep living at Kinglas.” He shook his head. “Not for a minute did I think she was serious, but that night she took an overdose of laudanum. Her maid didn’t realize she’d done so, and I . . . well, I wasn’t with her, so none of us knew what happened until it was too late.”
Victoria had to swallow a few times before she could speak. “It was hardly your fault that you weren’t sharing her bedchamber, given the state of your relationship.”
“I should have—”
“No,” she said firmly. “You would never have left her if you thought she would do such a thing. Only a deeply troubled person would take so tragic a step, leaving behind a husband and a child who loved her.” When he didn’t say anything, she tugged on his hand. “You realize that, do you not?”
His reluctant smile was more of a grimace. “My poor wife was indeed a deeply troubled soul. I will also say that it wasn’t even fully clear that she meant to kill herself. According to her maid, she’d grown reckless with her dosing. The physician was exceedingly sympathetic to our situation and recorded the death as an accidental overdose.”
She breathed out a relieved sigh. “Thank God.”
“It allowed us to give Janet a Christian burial. I was very grateful, especially for Cam’s sake.”
“Poor little boy,” she said softly.
He lifted her hand to his mouth and pressed a brief kiss to it before letting it go. She got the oddest sense that he was withdrawing from her.
“Cam was upset, naturally, but he recovered quickly. Although she loved him, Janet never spent much time with him.”
“That was a small blessing, I suppose.”
“Yes, and with him to care for, I could not afford to wallow in grief. Until I lost him as well, of course, and then I wallowed and raged to my heart’s content.” He glanced at her, his mouth pulled into a bitter line. “I warned you that it wasn’t a pretty tale, Victoria.”
“You did, and I’m grateful you trusted me enough to tell me,” she said quietly.
“Of course I trust you.” He placed his hands on his thighs and frowned. “More than anyone I know, I’m beginning to think.”
“Then please trust me when I say that you did all you could to help your wife. That is patently evident.”
He let out a skeptical snort and reached over to retrieve his glass. When he saw it was empty, he started to rise from his chair.
“No,” Victoria said, jumping up. She planted a hand on his chest and pushed him back down. “No more whisky.”
He scowled at her. “I don’t need your pity, lass. I need another drink.”
“No,” she said, plucking the glass from his hand and putting it on the table.
