Tamed by a Laird Read Online Free

difficulty until I realized that Reid should marry you. You see, Hugh refuses even to provide
     an adequate allowance for him. He is ever impatient with poor Reid, saying he would do better to win his spurs and perhaps
     even an estate of his own. But Reid has no great opinion of taking up arms unless a man must, and one cannot blame him for
     that—certainly not now, when we enjoy a truce of sorts with England. But had Hugh fallen in battle—”
    “Surely, you did not hope for such a thing!”
    “I am not heartless, Janet,” Phaeline said stiffly. “But knights often do fall in battle, and our Reid must have an income.
     However,” she added with a sigh, “devising a way to provide him with a proper one did vex me until—”
    “Until eight months ago when your lord husband assumed guardianship of me and my estates,” Jenny said.
    “Aye,” Phaeline admitted. “Easdale being such a fine and wealthy barony, one might say that Reid’s betrothal to you simply
     arranged itself.”
    “You are very frank, madam!”
    “ ’Twas providential, though, as even your uncle was quick to see.”
    Jenny did not bother to point out that it had proven other than providential for her. She knew she would be wasting her breath,
     just as she had wasted it in trying to avoid having her eyebrows and forehead plucked as bare as Phaeline’s.
    Phaeline had said that one must follow fashion, so Jenny’s face was now a hairless oval framed by the expensive beaded white
     caul that concealed her tresses.
    Applying to her uncle to support her against Phaeline would likewise prove useless. Lord Dunwythie exerted himself to please
     his wife, because he still hoped for an heir. At three-and-thirty, Phaeline was thirteen years younger than he was, but although
     they had been married for fifteen years and she had several times been with child, she had produced only their daughter Fiona.
    Dunwythie’s first wife, Elsbeth, had been Jenny’s maternal aunt and had died in childbed just as Jenny’s mother had. Elsbeth’s
     daughter, eighteen-year-old lady Mairi Dunwythie, sat at Phaeline’s left with Fiona just beyond her.
    Should Phaeline fail to produce a son, Mairi would eventually inherit the ancient Dunwythie estates. Such occurrences were
     not rare at a time when men went frequently to battle, but most men hoped nonetheless for a son to inherit. And Phaeline had
     declared just the previous month that she was pregnant again.
    Leaning nearer, Phaeline said, “Reid was wrong, you know.”
    Jenny looked at her. “Wrong?”
    “Aye, for today is Friday, so your first banns will be read just two days from now, on Sunday. Thus, your wedding is but three
     weeks hence…”
    “… and two days,” Jenny said, stifling a sigh of frustration.
    But Phaeline was no longer listening. Looking past Jenny, she said to her husband, “Prithee, my lord, I would take leave of
     you now. In my condition, I need much rest. You need not escort me, though,” she added graciously as she stood. “Pray, continue
     to enjoy this fine entertainment with our guests.”
    Dunwythie stood then, too, as did everyone else at the table. Those below the dais were watching a troupe of players run into
     the central space and paid no heed.
    Summoning a gillie, Dunwythie told him to see his lady to her chamber. When they had gone, everyone sat and his lordship resumed
     his conversation with Sir Hugh.
    Mairi immediately changed her seat to the one beside Jenny; whereupon, Fiona—doubtless fearing as usual that she might miss
     something—moved to Mairi’s.
    “Art reconciled yet to this marriage they’ve arranged for you?” Mairi asked Jenny as the players took their places to begin
     the play.
    “Resigned, I expect, but scarcely reconciled,” Jenny said. “ ’Tis of no use to repine, though. The betrothal is done, and
     Phaeline is most determined.”
    “I think Uncle Reid is handsome,” Fiona said, her light blue eyes gleaming. She had inherited her