Marriage of Convenience

By H.C Douglas

To understand James Douglas defiant behavior at Bonnybraes it is important to learn a little of his aunt and her unwitting pat therein.
Matilda Douglas was a proud and stubborn old woman who stood firm and unyielding on those matters where she held strong views. Indeed, Matilda held strong views on great many matters, but none with more determination and vigour than on her nephews obligation to remarry and produce an heir for the family estates. In fact, she saw it as her bounden duty to ensure his doing so.
To this end, Matilda had rounded up numerous eligible females, of suitable background and breeding of course, and these she trotted before James with increasing regularity. To her chagrin, the charms of these nubile maidens left her nephew quite unmoved, and seemingly content to remain a childless widower. Her constant harping and continued efforts in this area produced in James the opposite effect to that she desired, it inspired in him a grim determination and stubbornness to match her own. All her arguments, pleading and cajolery, fell on deaf ears.
The situation between them had reached a state that could best be termed stalemate, and could well have remained so indefinitely, but fate saw fit to take a hand in the game.
In the normal turn of events James would not have gone to Bonnybraes, but when his aunt intimated her intention of having several young ladies to visit over the following two days, he saw the business with Thomas Weir as a means of escape. The look in Matildas eye was warning enough for James; it heralded another attack on his solitary state.
To say Matilda was annoyed when he told her he would be absent would be an understatement; she was furious. After all, the whole point of the exercise was dependent on his being there.
The look of frustration on his aunts face gave James a feeling of jubilation, a glorious feeling of having triumphed over the old schemer. He had outflanked her, and with an added spring in his step, joyfully he took his leave. The mood stayed with him during the long ride to Bonnybraes and there can be little doubt that it had a great deal of bearing on his later actions.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris AU
• Release date: Mar 10, 2015
• ISBN: 9781503502444

H.C Douglas

Born in Scotland in the 1930s, I migrated to Australia with my young family in 1962. My early years in Australia included being mother for several years with a well-known institution that cared for Aboriginal children. Being head chef in a commercial kitchen was followed by running a private catering company for a few years. During this time, I found little time for leisure activities, but when the opportunity arose, I enjoyed painting, pottery, and in particular, writing—winning a number of awards and accolades, including publications of poems and short stories, and the production of several plays. Working as the volunteer in charge of a charity shop, my life became hectic for the next twenty years. Having retired in December 2010, my focus has now returned to my pet interest: writing.

Book preview

Copyright © 2015 by H.C. Douglas.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2015901824

ISBN:      Hardcover      978-1-5035-0246-8

                Softcover        978-1-5035-0245-1

                eBook              978-1-5035-0244-4

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 03/10/2015

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Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

About The Book

Prologue

T o understand James Douglas’s defiant behaviour at Bonnybraes, it is important to learn a little of his aunt and her unwitting part therein.

Matilda Douglas was a proud and stubborn old woman who stood firm and unyielding on those matters where she held strong views. Indeed, Matilda held strong views on a great many matters, but none with more determination and vigour than on her nephew’s obligation to remarry and produce an heir for the family estates. In fact, she saw it as her bounden duty to ensure his doing so!

To this end, Matilda had rounded up numerous eligible females—of suitable background and breeding, of course—and these she trotted before James with increasing regularity. To her chagrin, the charms of these nubile maidens left her nephew quite unmoved and seemingly content to remain a childless widower. Her constant harping and continued efforts in this area produced in James the opposite effect to that she desired; it inspired in him a grim determination and stubbornness to match her own. All her arguments, pleading, and cajolery fell on deaf ears.

The situation between them had reached a state that could best be termed stalemate and could well have remained so indefinitely, but fate saw fit to take a hand in the game.

In the normal turn of events, James would not have gone to Bonnybraes, but when his aunt intimated her intention of having several young ladies to visit over the following two days, he saw the business with Thomas Weir as a means of escape. The look in Matilda’s eyes was warning enough for James; it heralded another attack on his solitary state.

To say Matilda was annoyed when he told her he would be absent would be an understatement; she was furious. After all, the whole point of the exercise was dependent on his being there.

The look of frustration on his aunt’s face gave James a feeling of jubilation, a glorious feeling of having triumphed over the old schemer. He had outflanked her and, with an added spring in his step, joyfully he took his leave. The mood stayed with him during the long ride to Bonnybraes and there can be little doubt but it had a great deal of bearing on his later actions.

Chapter One

T homas Weir was a tenant farmer on one of James Douglas’s holdings and, although previously reliable, now owed James a considerable amount of money. Already he had been given two extensions on his note, but it was obvious that further time would only be prolonging the agony and merely delaying the inevitable. There was nothing unusual in Weir’s case; the man had overextended his credit. It was not necessary for James to attend to the matter in person, and in all probability, he would not have done so if not for his wish to thwart his aunt’s plans. So although his mission could hardly be termed a pleasant one, he rode into Bonnybraes yard in a cheerful frame of mind.

On his way up to the farmhouse, James looked the place over with an experienced eye and liked nothing of what he saw. So far, he had only glimpsed a few poor-looking animals, and there was no sign of any men at all. The farm looked neglected and run down, almost derelict. James dismounted and strode up to the house.

‘What do you want? What are you looking for?’ The door had opened to his second knock, and a grey-looking woman eyed him suspiciously.

‘I’m seeking Thomas Weir. Is he at home?’ James’s deep voice sounded very loud in the stillness.

‘And who wants to know?’

‘The landlord of this farm, James Douglas. Weir and I have some business to attend to. If he is about, I should appreciate your informing him of my arrival.’ The door opened wider, and the woman peered up at him for a moment, then nodded slowly.

‘So it is. I’m sorry, Mister Douglas, I did not recognize you at first. But then, it has been a long time. Would you step in, sir, and I’ll let him know you are here.’ He followed the weary-looking woman into what was obviously the kitchen. Looking around, he noticed the interior of the house seemed kept in much better order than the yards. The large table was scrubbed spotlessly clean as was the stone-flagged floor. The hearth was swept, and around the room, various pots, kettles, and copper jugs were shiny and bright. ‘I’m sure my husband never expected to see you, sir. He did say Mister Donaldson, the factor, could be calling soon.’

‘Indeed, Mistress Weir, my factor has called on some number of occasions and found your husband from home on—’

‘He has been unwell, sir, and I did take it upon myself to—’ The woman turned her tired eyes to him, and James frowned. He did not like the position he was in at the moment, nor did he relish the idea that any minute might bring forth tears and pleadings from this worn-out creature. ‘I told the factor he was not here. If you’d care to take a seat, Mister Douglas, I’ll send one of the girls through with some refreshment for you.’

‘No, that’s not at all necessary.’ James’s words were spoken to an empty room for the woman had turned and darted off through the door at the far side of the kitchen. ‘Blast!’ James slapped his riding boots with his crop and turned crossly to look out of the window, across the neglected fields.

‘Please, would you be seated, sir? My father says he will attend you directly.’ A woman stood by the table with a tray set with glasses and a jug; these she set upon the table. ‘Can I pour you a drink? It is only cider, but it is quite—’

‘No. No, thank you. Not for the moment. I’ll wait on your father.’ The woman turned and took her leave, her bearing and looks were almost as worn and tired-looking as the other. James thought, There is something far wrong here. He seated himself on one of the wooden chairs. He had barely done so when a man entered the room.

‘Good afternoon to you, Mister Douglas.’ James rose and took the man’s outstretched hand; it felt like parchment—dry and lifeless. The man’s face looked grey and gaunt. His large frame was bent, and his skin had an unhealthy pallor to it. The man dropped heavily on to one of the chairs.

‘What on earth?’

‘Forgive me, I have to be seated,’ Weir gasped harshly.

‘Your wife said you had been ill, man, but I had no idea!’ James felt genuinely sorry at seeing the state the man was in.

‘I have been ill, but now I’m on the mend. It is a bad state of affairs though, for I am beholden to you and not yet fit enough to earn the money to repay you.’ The man wiped his mouth with a kerchief before he continued. ‘But I will pay you, have no fear on that! I honour my debts, Mister Douglas, but the way things are, I had hoped to seek a short extension on my note?’ The man stopped, and James did not fail to notice the question that lay in his last remark, but he did not offer an immediate reply. He wanted to know a great deal more, but before either man could speak further, the door was flung open, and a young woman stormed into the kitchen. She was obviously in considerable haste, and her voice was filled with anger.

‘I have never been so humiliated in my life! I could not find one man, not even one boy, who will give us a day’s work! They demanded to know how they would be paid! They even offered to hire me! Oh!’ She stopped and stared at the red-headed stranger seated at the table. She was suddenly aware of the vivid blue eyes sweeping over her, and she felt her face begin to burn. The man stood up and made her a slight bow. The girl stared at him. The sight of James seated had silenced her; the sight of James standing completely intimidated her. She dropped her eyes beneath his continued scrutiny but finally regained her speech. ‘I’m sorry, Father. I did not realize—’

‘This here is Mister Douglas. He came all this way to speak with me on important business, girl, and you affront me before him with your announcements and your manners! D’you hear me, girl? You come bursting in here with manners more suited to … to a … !’ The sick man had risen and was using the table for support as he bellowed his abuse upon the girl, but a fit of coughing stayed him for some moments. Angrily he wiped his lips again before he gasped out further to the girl. ‘Get yourself through the house to your mother! Go on, get out of my sight!’ Weir’s voice was harsh, unnecessarily so, thought James, and for some reason he felt annoyed. The girl had done no harm, had done nothing to warrant such abuse. He watched her shoulders slump as she turned and left them, and James found himself feeling less sympathetic to the man who seated himself once more at the table.

‘That was your daughter, I take it?’ he asked coldly.

‘Aye, at least, one of them. I have four daughters, Mister Douglas. Four mouths to feed. And with what? I ask you, with what?’ the man’s voice had grown even more hard and bitter. ‘Of a family of nine, I am left with four women on my hands. Aye, four women and their mother. Where are all my fine sons, you ask? Where indeed? The youngest lies in the churchyard, and the others may as well have joined him for all the good they’ve done to me! They are all gone, Mister Douglas, all of them! As soon as they were able, they just up and left me. The ungrateful young whelps! Well, good riddance to them, I say now. Damn good riddance!’

The man almost spat out the last words and then broke into another fit of coughing. James hurriedly filled a glass with cider and pressed it into the sick man’s shaking hands.

‘You are in a bad way still, I fear.’

‘And naturally you fear for your money,’ Weir rasped out as another bout of coughing shook his bony frame. He glared at James fiercely, his eyes wild and fevered in their dark-rimmed hollows. ‘But don’t you worry none, you will have your money! I have always paid my debts, and I will again, just as soon as my strength returns. But you must see, I need more time. Dammit, Mister Douglas, you owe me that!’ Beads of sweat stood out on his forehead, and two bright spots of red burned high on his cheeks as he now grated out between clenched teeth. ‘I pay my debts. Always I have paid what I owe, and given time, I will do so again. Yet I ask for time! I need time! I need more time!’

Weir’s last shout brought his wife scurrying though to his side. She looked down at the bowed head of her husband and then gave James a look of reproach.

‘He’ll have to rest a spell, sir, he really will. As you can see, he’s still far from well. If your business could wait a while, I’m sure he will.’

‘Of course, mistress. I really had no idea he was—’ Weir struggled up from his seat and began walking unsteadily towards the door through which his wife had just entered. ‘Here, let me give you a hand there.’ James’s offer was shrugged away.

‘I’ll manage,’ he grunted stubbornly, and as his wife tried to take his arm, he pushed her from him. ‘I said I can still manage, woman!’

‘I’d better just make sure he is all right.’ Mistress Weir smiled apologetically at James before following her husband from the room.

With a sigh, James reseated himself at the table and poured himself a glass of cider, and while he sipped it, he thought over all that he had seen and heard. Weir was ill, there was no doubt about that, but it was clear he was a hard man to live with; his poor wife and daughters were ample proof of his harsh ways. The way he had spoken to the young one still rankled James, and his thoughts grew sad to think that soon she too would become drab and dreary under his heavy hand.

The sound of a step behind him made him turn sharply. It was the young girl again, and he studied her carefully. She was about eighteen, quite tall. Not a bad figure, he thought, although it was rather hard to tell under her shapeless brown dress. She had masses of thick brown hair; the cap she wore had no chance of restraining it. It would indeed be a pity if this girl were turned into a faded replica of her mother and sister, he mused. Of course, she could marry and thereby escape such a fate, but then again, what chance had she of any kind of