Chapter Eighteen #2
They left the room and went back down the stairs, where the others were waiting.
There were murmurs of sympathy, and Sinclair thanked them, but he seemed too shaken to say much.
Cat held his hand and sat beside him when the servant served them hot oat cakes and whisky.
The house was very quiet, and even with the fire burning, it was chilly.
She knew this was not a place she wanted to live and hoped Sinclair would not ask her to.
Sinclair was looking about him and seemed to read her thoughts. “I will never live here. It was never my home.”
“’Tis is a bleak place,” Maxwell agreed with a grimace. “Bonnyrigg is better.” He seemed better disposed to Sinclair than he had been when they first met, and Cat was relieved for it.
Sinclair had met his eyes and managed to smile. “Much better,” he agreed. “But I do feel sad. We were not close, and I regret that. I would have liked a grandfather I could love, and who would love me.” He swallowed.
Cat squeezed his hand again. “I did not know him, but hearing him speak . . . Sinclair, I think he was looking in the wrong places for happiness. He thought it lay in London and being a gentleman. He was looking outside of his life instead of inside, where his family were.”
He smiled at her. “He was. You are right. He alienated his daughter and made my life a misery. Never fear, Cat, I am not going to strut about London pretending to be anything other than what I am. A carpenter’s son.”
After a time, Uncle James cleared his throat. “I think you can sign the marriage contract now,” he said. “If you still want to. Your inheritance is yours to dispose of as you wish.”
Sinclair looked pleasantly surprised. “So it is! Your Grace,” turning to Maxwell, “will you give me your permission to wed your daughter?”
Maxwell gave him a thoughtful look. “Cat? Is that what you want?”
She smiled. “Yes, Father. Yes please.”
He smiled back. “Then I give you permission to wed my daughter, Sinclair.”
With a cry of joy, she went into Sinclair’s arms.
“We will be happy,” she whispered against his cheek.
Much happier, she thought, than that old man upstairs, who wasted his life on things that were meaningless. Sinclair was nothing like him.
He is the man I love and admire, and oh yes, we will be very happy together.
It was late when Sinclair went outside. He could not sleep.
There were too many things going around in his head.
Regrets for the past, for the grandfather he had never really had, and the suffering the man had brought to his people in his efforts to turn Sinclair into a gentleman.
Sinclair had never wanted to be a gentleman.
He had only wanted his grandfather to love him.
The light was strange on the horizon, perhaps the Northern Lights were preparing to shine.
He had seen them before when he lived here, before he went to school in Edinburgh and then to London.
He wondered if his grandfather was up there somewhere, watching him, and probably frowning because Sinclair wasn’t going to do what he was told.
That made him smile. He thought of his mother then, and how happy she had been with his father. She had made her own life and never regretted it, and Sinclair would do the same. He had his Cat, and he would marry her, and he would make her happy just as she made him happy.
Would they live at Bonnyrigg or London? Or perhaps they could spend their time between the two?
He was still considering those questions when he heard a step behind him and turned.
It was Callum, Cat’s eldest brother. He too was looking up into the sky, his dark eyes narrowed.
He looked very much like his father, tall and handsome, but there was something of Cat in his features too.
Perhaps his mouth, that one moment was laughing and the next drawn into a stubborn line.
Not that Callum had done much laughing since they’d met.
“So you are Lord Armytage now,” Callum said. “Should I congratulate you?”
“I’d rather you didn’t.”
“And you dinna want to live here?” the other man went on abruptly. “I dinna blame you. It looks awfully bleak to me. I’m no’ sure Cat will take to it.”
“No, I won’t live here. I might sell it. Although, did you see the bothies?” He frowned at the memory. “I would need to do some repairs before I make any decisions. Everything has been badly let go. I can’t walk away, my conscience won’t let me. This is my fault.”
Sinclair knew now his grandfather had used every penny to set Sinclair up as a “gentleman.” It may not have been his choice, but he felt guilty about it.
Callum looked at him. “It’s a disgrace, but it was your grandsire’s fault, not yours. Mend the bothies, repair the land, make yourself known to your people. They will love you for it.”
“Did you see the clothing the servants were wearing? It’s a wonder they haven’t frozen. When I was here before, there was spinning and weaving. The people could care for themselves. He has taken everything from them.”
“Aye, he has, so you must bring it back. Put the money to good use.”
“Maybe I will not sell after all,” Sinclair mused. “Maybe I can come to some arrangement with some diligent fellow to take it on, and I can still keep an eye on things. What do you think?”
Callum smiled. “I think you are right. What if Rory took it on?” His smile turned into a grin. “He’s nothing better to do.”
Sinclair wasn’t sure whether or not he was joking. “Do you think he would want to?” he said. “He didn’t seem very happy with me at Bonnyrigg.”
Callum paused, still watching him. “We’re family. Rory and me and you, all of us.” He held out his hand, and Sinclair took it. They solemnly shook. “And family look after each other, Sinclair.”
“Yes, they are supposed to,” Sinclair agreed, once again remembering his grandsire.
“And if one of them steps out of line, then he’s brought back in, quick smart.”
Sinclair eyed him. Was that meant to be some reminder to him to look after Cat properly? Well there was no need for it. “I love your sister,” he said firmly. “I will love her forever. You have no fear that I would ever hurt her or let another hurt her.”
Callum seemed to find comfort in this, as if it was the answer he was looking for. “Then I have no quarrel with you. Now let’s go inside before we both freeze to death.”