Chapter Nine

      Jo could not remember the last time she had lost her temper anywhere but in the confines of her own mind.

      Yes, she could, actually. After her mother told her they must leave their home to live with Lady Theale, she had thrown a fine tantrum, blaming her mother for everything—her father’s death and the loss of their home and freedom and pride. Her mother held her through the weeping that followed her outburst, but later that night Jo heard her crying and felt like a worm and apologised the next day. She had not openly lost her temper again since.

      Until last night.

      Her usual defences were failing her too often recently. Perhaps it was the exhaustion of the trip, the daunting bleakness and imposing size of the castle as they approached it last night, huddled on the rainy promontory like a glum grey giant. Or perhaps it was that the Duke’s stern lecture brought back unpleasant memories of that dreadful Season six years ago when he had regarded her with the same critical exasperation as the rest of the Uxmores, making her feel irredeemably wrong-footed. During the trip north that sensation faded, at least until last night as she stood backed against her door, the light of the single candle in the sconce accentuating the harsh lines of his handsome face. He was too big, too sure of himself, too disapproving and far too oppressively male...

      And the worst, the absolute worst, was that he turned her pleasure in Jamie’s company, the one bright spot in her confusion, into something objectionable. Part of her understood his concern, but another part—already tender and afraid of the future—wanted to curl into a ball and cry. That or lash out and do as much damage to him. So she had.

      It was not the first time her tongue had slipped its leash in this impossible man’s presence, but this time she had truly gone too far. She was a beast to have spoken to him so and rebuked him, too, merely because he was worried about Jamie being hurt. Whatever she thought of the Duke of Lochmore, she did not doubt he loved his son deeply, or that Jamie utterly adored him.

      Perhaps she was jealous. Of both of them.

      She was a worm. And a sanctimonious one at that.

      She stopped as she saw Angus exit a room to her right.

      ‘Angus, where is His Grace?’

      ‘Here in the estate room, Mrs Langdale. He and Mr McCreary are battling the dragons of debits and credits.’

      ‘Oh, dear. Do you think it would be a bad idea if I asked for a moment of his time?’

      ‘I think he would be happy for any excuse to escape, Mrs Langdale.’

      She rather doubted that, but she nodded and when he opened the door and announced her, she stepped in with her chin up and her heart somewhere below her knees.

      ‘Your Grace, may I have a moment of your time?’

      He glanced up from a ledger and stood, his face glacial, and her heart sank to ankle level. But at a glance from him his bespectacled steward left the room and she rushed into speech before the door even closed.

      ‘I wish to apologise for what I said last night. I had no right and I know you only spoke out of concern for Jamie. But I do not think I can be indifferent so perhaps it is best I leave now. I shan’t be returning to Uxmore so we needn’t even tell Lady Theale. By the time she discovers I am not here you will no doubt have wed, thus obviating the need for her to plot against you again.’

      He appeared to gather himself as he followed her tumbled speech. ‘What do you mean you shan’t be returning to Uxmore?’

      ‘Just that. I have been saving my annuity and all my settlement and I think I have enough to lease some place small in town and not worry for at least a year or so and by then I shall no doubt find employment so I do not eat into my settlement. I will try seeking employment at one of the schools for young women. I have all the skills. It cannot be too hard.’

      He came towards her.

      ‘Sit down.’

      She glanced around and sat on the nearest chair. It was hard and slightly warped and she wished she had chosen a more comfortable seat on which to receive her dismissal.

      He pulled over a chair and sat as well, crossing his arms over his chest.

      ‘I have another suggestion. Rather, a choice. After our...discussion last night I considered your words and I wish to amend our arrangement. I will be very busy for the foreseeable future. Besides the usual estate business, we are holding a ball on Summer’s Solstice after which we will finalise an agreement with the McCrieffs. I presume once that occurs the wedding will take place promptly. And before you toss an accusation of vanity at me, I should say that this does not reflect in the least on my personal qualities, but on the Lochmore title and wealth and the unsettled nature of Scottish clan politics.’

      ‘I was not...’

      ‘You were thinking it and you said as much to me during the trip here.’

      ‘I did not...’

      ‘Did, too, as Jamie might say. But that is hardly the point. The point is that you have a point—Jamie is isolated here. Hopefully once I am married there will be siblings and eventually he can attend a school nearby. But while this is all in the making, he needs, as Lady Theale stated in her usual bludgeoning way, a companion. If there is one thing you have proven this week, Mrs Langdale, it is that you can appeal to children. Therefore I would be grateful if you would stay until the betrothal. I will of course compensate you. I doubt Lady Theale has been as generous with the Uxmore funds as she has been with your time, but should you remain here you will accept my terms.’

      ‘I could not...’

      ‘My terms, Mrs Langdale. Or not at all.’

      Her relief held her silent and worried her. She should finally be brave and strike out on her own, not fall into another position of cushy servitude, no matter how appealing her charge.

      ‘Well, Mrs Langdale?’ he prompted. ‘This is your cue to say “I will”, or, more consistently with your latest responses, “I will not...”’

      In the silence the wind whistled in the casement and the clouds cast shifting shadows on the stone floor. The great fireplace was crackling and she was not cold, but she shivered a little. Perhaps it was merely cowardice now that she was determined to strike out on her own, but it would not be so very terrible to stay for a month, would it? She could not deny that she felt drawn to Jamie far more than she had to any of Celia’s children. Both Lochmore men needed her in their own way and, even if she was only a temporary bridge, the thought of turning her back on Lochmore’s offer felt...wrong.

      ‘I will.’

      He shook his head, but it was not a negation. Then he looked around the room, as if surprised to find them there.

      ‘The castle is impossible to heat. I will have Mrs Merry find you a decent cloak for when you go outside. There are a few rules. Do not go to the north bay under