One Night with the Laird. Nicola Cornick

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      Robert’s eyes narrowed. “Jack,” he said, “should anything happen to Lucy or I, I would want you to stand as guardian to both James and Ewan.”

      Cold fear seeped through Jack’s body. It was impossible.

      “Rob—” he said, with difficulty.

      “Lucy and I would like it very much,” Robert said gently. “If you feel able to accept.”

      Jack did not look at him. He kept his gaze fixed on the dregs of the coffee that swirled in his cup.

      “I am not exactly an ideal role model,” he said, striving for a light tone. “Ewan deserves better.”

      “On the contrary,” his cousin replied evenly. “Ewan could not do better.” Then as Jack remained silent, his tone quickened with impatience. “Jack, for God’s sake, give yourself some credit. I know what you are thinking, but you did what you thought was best for Averil—”

      Jack cut him off with one swift gesture. He never talked about his sister and he was not going to start now. “I left her to rot in that terrible school, Rob,” he said. “I did nothing for her.”

      There was silence, heavy with unspoken comment. Then Robert sighed. “Very well. I respect your frankness and I do understand.” He shifted in his chair. “You will still come to Methven for the christening, though?”

      “That’s not really a question, is it?” Jack said. “You are ordering me.”

      Amusement gleamed in Robert’s eyes. “I can do no such thing, as you are well aware.” He allowed a moment’s quiet. “Grandmama would appreciate it. She has been in poor health lately, as you know. Seeing you would cheer her.”

      “I don’t respond well to blackmail,” Jack said mildly. He let out a long sigh. “Oh, very well. As long as she has no further plans to marry me off.”

      “It would make her happy to see you wed,” Robert said.

      “You’re looking shifty,” Jack observed.

      His cousin sighed. “Grandmama may—and I only say may—have invited a number of eligible ladies to Methven for the house party—”

      “Like a cattle mart,” Jack said. His mouth twisted. “You’re not selling this to me, Rob.”

      “Now that you have the estate at Glen Calder, you must surely be thinking of the future,” Robert said mildly.

      “My future does not involve a wife and family,” Jack said, his voice hard. “Not every man wants such things.” He gulped down a mouthful of coffee, and another. It was not what he wanted. What he wanted—what he needed—was the fierce burn of brandy. It was not often these days that he thought of drinking himself into oblivion, but tonight the prospect was tempting. Too tempting. He knew his weaknesses, knew how little it would take. He pushed the bottle further away. He wished Robert was not drinking brandy but it was not his cousin’s fault. Robert had offered to take coffee with him and Jack had refused and ordered him the spirits. He hated anyone pandering to his weakness.

      “Jack, you should not blame yourself,” Robert said. He cursed under his breath. “You should not have to bear the weight of your parents’ mistakes.”

      “Let us not speak of it,” Jack said. His throat felt rough, his voice strained. He could hear his cousin’s words, but they could not touch him. He did not believe them because the truth was that he had failed. As the only son, he had had the duty to protect his mother and his sister after his father’s death, and he had failed them both shamefully.

      He eyed the brandy bottle. His fingers itched to reach for it. He could feel the compulsion creeping through him like a dark tide.

      It was better that he should be alone. That way there was no danger he would fail anyone but himself. He slid a hand across the table, reaching for the bottle.

      “...Lady Mairi MacLeod,” Robert said.

      Jack stopped, his head snapping round. “I beg your pardon?”

      “I said that I would like you to escort Lady Mairi MacLeod to the christening,” Robert repeated. Then, when Jack did not immediately respond, “I know that you dislike her, but she is my sister-in-law. It would be a courtesy.”

      Jack groaned. “Must I?” he said. Just when he had thought that the evening could not become worse, it had done so.

      Dislike did not even begin to encompass his feeling for Mairi MacLeod. When he had first met her three years before at her sister’s wedding he had thought her fascinating, cool, beautiful, self-contained, a challenge. He liked rich widows and they tended to like him in return. He had wasted no time in suggesting to Mairi that she should become his mistress. She had told him in no uncertain terms what he could do with his proposition and after that had treated him with the utmost indifference. Jack was not accustomed to rejection, and it annoyed him that even after so clear a refusal he was still attracted to Mairi MacLeod with a powerful dark strain of awareness he could not dismiss. A week in her company escorting her over bad roads on the long and arduous journey to the Highlands would make him want to alternately strangle her and make love to her and neither option was possible.

      Robert gave an exaggerated sigh. “I fail to understand your antipathy.”

      “Then let me enlighten you,” Jack said. “Lady Mairi is proud and haughty. She’s too rich, too beautiful and too clever.”

      Antagonism stirred in him again. It infuriated him that he could not be indifferent to Mairi MacLeod. Not even his night of outrageous passion with his mystery seductress had been able to break her spell. In fact, oddly it seemed to make the craving worse. Now there were two women he lusted after and could not bed.

      Robert was laughing. “Does she have any other faults you wish to share?” he murmured.

      Jack ran a hand through his hair. “I would rather not escort her,” he said. “Why can’t she travel with her family?”

      “Because they are at Forres and Lady Mairi is at her home just outside Edinburgh,” Robert said with unimpaired calm. “It’s a courtesy, Jack. As I said, we are trying to heal the breach between the clans.” He shrugged. “If Lady Mairi dislikes you as much as you say, then she will refuse your escort.”

      “She might accept simply to torment me,” Jack muttered. He gave a sharp sigh. “Oh, very well. But you owe me a favor.”

      “I really do not think so,” Robert said dryly.

      “Five minutes,” Jack said. “It will only take me five minutes to ask and for her to refuse.” He would spend no longer than that in her company. He would go to Ardglen, he would invite Mairi to travel with him to Methven, she would refuse and then he would be gone. Once at Methven for the christening, they could cordially ignore each other.

      He sat back, the tension easing a little from his shoulders. He and Mairi MacLeod could surely manage to be civil to each other for so short a time. Five minutes and then it would be done.

      * * *

      “Tell Lady Mairi MacLeod that Mr. Rutherford wishes to see her.”

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