“Aye. But before we make this agreement, I want to ask ye a few questions.”
Katie nodded, her mind still in a whirl.
“Why did ye leave yer home in Stirlingshire?” He narrowed his eyes. “And I’ll have the truth from ye, lass.”
She could certainly give him the truth, just not all of it. If MacNeil was the sort of man who honored a contract—no matter how false—he would have her back on the road home. She took a deep breath, choosing her words carefully. “My da suffered a great deal when my mum died giving birth to Gavin.”
“How old is yer brother?”
“Ten years. He was a surprise to my parents.”
Evan nodded for her to continue.
“Da spent a lot of time and money on drink and trips to Edinburgh, leaving me in charge of the land, the castle, and my brother.” The sinking feeling returned to her stomach as she recalled when she used to watch the road for her father’s return. Each time she’d prayed that he would arrive well and hardy and with the coin in his pocket he’d taken with him. She’d needed it to buy food, and pay their debts.
The farmers and crofters had paid their rents mostly on time, but the cottages needed repairs that Katie just didn’t have the coin to cover. Things had begun to fall apart, and Da had been no help.
“During that time things grew from bad to worse. He didn’t have a great deal of interest in our home, lands, or tenants. Many of our people left for Canada and Australia. Unfortunately, most of those who remained were ill, aged, or widowed mothers with children. Da kept telling me ’twas a temporary thing and eventually all would settle down and the good times would return.”
MacNeil shook his head, his expression somber. “Aye. Many clans believed the same thing, but I’m afraid the good times, as our das and grandas knew, are gone forever.”
“That’s what I kept telling him. That we must adjust and work with what we had.” She closed her eyes, remembering the arguments that had gone on forever until she’d thrown her hands up in anger and stormed off. “But he never listened.” She remained silent for a few moments, forcing away the tears that threatened to disgrace her in front of the laird. Perhaps sensing her distress, he remained silent.
She took a deep breath. “Then one night a fire started in the stables. Da was home that evening, but he was passed out in one of the stalls. The fire spread to part of the house, but we were able to keep it from taking the whole place.” She swallowed a few times. “Da never made it out of the stables. We buried him the next morning.”
Evan moved to the desk near her chair and rested his hip against it. He waited a few minutes, then said, “Was that when ye decided to come here?”
She nodded and gave herself a bit of time to erase those memories and force the one that came after it away before she blurted it out. She shifted her eyes, unable to look at him, knowing she was holding back information. “Yes. I remembered the paper that my mum had shown me, and I took it out and decided to make the trip.”
“
And yer household and tenants agreed?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “They had no choice. Not really. They’ve nowhere else to go, and I couldn’t begin to put everything back to rights. The fire was an added burden, and it was just too much.”
“Aye. I agree with ye, lass. ’Twas quite a burden yer da left you with.” After a minute or so, he said, “Why is it yer not married? Dinnae yer da make arrangements for a husband for ye?”
She stiffened and hoped Evan didn’t notice. “Nay. He never had time.”
“And no one ever caught yer eye?”
“Nay. Once Mum died I never had time for socializing.” She didn’t add that even if she’d had the time, there’d been no coin to buy her a new dress or even a hair ribbon. Every penny had gone into keeping food on the table.
Evan swung his leg back and forth as he studied her. “I give ye a lot of credit, lass. Ye did the best ye could with as little help as yer da offered. I ken how hard it is for a woman to do all that ye did and take care of yer wee brother as well.”
Gavin.
The final reason she’d decided to make the dangerous trip across the Lowlands to MacDuff at Fife, with no more than an old, faded piece of paper to claim the land. Yes, desperate measures to be sure.
“I sense in ye a strong nature, Mistress Stirling. If ye were able to keep yer da’s place running, despite all the problems ye dealt with, I am sure ye can do the job I’m offering ye.”
It had been her hope to claim ownership to benefit Gavin when he became a man. Rightfully, Stirling belonged to him, but she couldn’t imagine what shape it would be in by the time he grew to manhood. She had hoped to be able to turn this estate over to him and settle herself in a small house on the grounds—happy with spinsterhood.
Gavin could then marry and have children, making her the doting aunt. ’Twas a peaceful and contented life she’d planned for herself. Now she would merely be an employee, and there would be nothing for Gavin.
“I have one condition, laird.”
“What is that?”