Meg could hear the helplessness in her brother’s voice. “I can’t do it, Father.”
“Of course you can.” Her father’s voice was harder this time. “Try again.”
Ian’s face twisted with frustration. He tried again. Meg’s pulse raced anxiously as he scratched out a few numbers on the parchment. She hated to watch him struggle. She knew he was close to tears, and her father hated when Ian cried. Braw lads of sixteen years did not cry.
“You remember, Ian,” Meg jumped in. “You did it perfectly yesterday.” She bent over and broke down the equation for him. Ian could multiply and divide well enough, it was just figuring out what to do that could be overwhelming for him. In a matter of minutes, he said proudly, “Fifteen pounds Scots, six shillings.”
Her father nodded, satisfied, but his smile was reserved for Meg.
Her mother didn’t want to see the truth. Her father didn’t know what to do with Ian. Meg had spent her childhood protecting her brother from his disappointment. Not allowing her father to feel the absence of an heir ensured that he would not focus on Ian’s limitations. But Meg didn’t want to talk about her father and brother. “You are making too much of this, Mother. It was just a game.”
“But surely you must be reconsidering Alex as a potential suitor, Meg?” Elizabeth asked. “Any man who can beat you at chess must be an exceptional strategist.”
Elizabeth’s question forced Meg to acknowledge the truth. Initially, she’d discounted Alex, considering him too much of a warmonger who didn’t possess the necessary acumen to deal with the king’s men. But she’d been wrong. Behind the strong sword arm and impressive physique lurked an incredibly sharp mind. Sharp enough to best her at chess, employing a brilliant strategic defense to counter her aggressive bishop’s attack. Meg hadn’t just lost, she’d been routed. Moreover, her mother and Elizabeth were right: His undeniable skill impressed her.
There was much about Alex MacLeod that impressed her.
Her mother stood before her, arms crossed over her chest, looking remarkably pleased with herself. “I’m right, Meg. Admit it. Alex MacLeod would make a perfect husband.”
Part of her wanted to agree, but the other part still wasn’t so sure. There were too many unknowns. If only she could figure out why she was so drawn to him. “I’ll allow that there is more to him than the hardened warrior I first assumed. But there is another problem—he isn’t looking for a wife.”
“He might not be looking for a wife, but that doesn’t have to prevent him from finding one. And since he’s arrived at court, he’s made no secret of his interest in you.” Her mother’s gaze was full of tenderness. “You seem more relaxed with Alex. Less worried. Why, I’ve even seen him wheedle a smile or two from you.” She shook her head with obvious dismay. “You would do well to laugh more, my love. I have warned your father that he demands far too much from you. You are too young to have locked yourself away from the pleasures of the world and devoted your life to the management of Dunakin.”
“I enjoy what I do, Mother.”
“I know you do, child, but I believe there is more to it than that.”
Meg bristled uncomfortably, unsure of exactly what her mother might reveal but knowing that she did not want to hear it. Especially if it involved more talk about Ian.
“I hope you will listen to your mother, Meg,” Elizabeth said as she moved toward the door. “I would like nothing more than to have you as a sister. But Jamie deserves to be loved.”
Not giving Meg the opportunity to respond, Elizabeth closed the door behind her, leaving Meg alone with Rosalind. Meg felt a twinge of guilt. Elizabeth was right, Jamie did deserve to be loved. And Meg would see to it that he was.
She glanced at her mother warily.
“Don’t look so defensive, love. I don’t want to upset you; I’m only considering your happiness. I want you to laugh more and worry less. You take on so much to protect your brother. If I’d realized sooner why you pushed yourself so hard, I would have intervened long ago.”
The unusual vehemence in her voice surprised Meg.
Rosalind shook her head sadly. “If only I’d been able to give your father more sons. I blame myself.”
“There is nothing to blame,” Meg said unthinkingly, wanting to comfort her clearly distressed mother.
But Rosalind cut off her denial. “I can see what you are doing even if you cannot. I know that you are only trying to protect your brother by taking his responsibilities upon yourself, and yes, I should have realized why you pushed yourself so hard a long time ago. The pressure of always being the perfect daughter is too much. You have repressed your own desires for your brother’s sake.”
“No,” Meg exclaimed vehemently, “you are wrong, Mother. I enjoy the work I do. I want the responsibility of managing Dunakin for myself. It has nothing to do with Ian.”
“You may have convinced yourself of that, but I believe it has everything to do with Ian. You will settle for a man you do not love, thinking that you are doing right by Dunakin. You have blinded yourself to everything except finding the perfect man to take the place that your brother will never be able to fully occupy.” Rosalind sighed. She clasped Meg’s hands and stared deep into her eyes. “But no one is perfect, Meg, including you. I hope you do not wait until it is too late before you realize that you have made a mistake and married the wrong man, for all the wrong reasons.”
Meg hated being scrutinized; she only wanted to do what was right for her clan. Why did it have to be so difficult? She stood up and headed for the door, needing to breathe.
“Where are you going?” her mother asked.
“To put this riding gown to use.”
“But it’s getting late. Wait until tomorrow and I will go with you.”
Meg gave her mother a reassuring smile. “I won’t be long.” Just long enough to get her mind back on track.
