Page 73 of Her Magnificent Mistake
He hadn’t.
He hadn’t known, hadn’t understood. Hadn’t forgiven her.
Likely neverwouldforgive her.
She sniffed, lifting the pendent to press the colder-than-it-ought-to-be glass against her lips, and wished that it were real. Wished that the magic sprite who lived inside itcouldmake everything better.
Make it better.
Behind her, the door opened as a man’s voice yelled, “Marsh!”
She knew it wasn’t him, but couldn’t help the way her heart leapt as she spun about.
It was her big brother who all but fell into the room, his face lit with some kind of urgency that flashed to concern when he saw her tears. “Whoa, Marsh, what is it? What’s wrong?”
She was already standing, already throwing herself into her brother’s arms. Bull caught her, cradling her, protecting her the way he had since she’d discovered the hole in the wall between their townhouses sixteen years ago and become her best friend.
“Marcia?” his whisper was harsh. “Are ye hurt?”
She shook her head. “Hawk. I…I…”
“If he hurt ye, I’ll kill him.”
It was said so matter-of-fact, she had to snort. “No, I think you will find that ismyjob. You are supposed to trust me and support me and believe in me enough to believe thatIcould kill him if I needed to. And maybe hold back his arms.”
“Och, aye, forgive me.” His arms tightened around her, although his tone had lightened. “Could I perhaps be permitted to beat seven kinds of shite out of him asyehold him down?”
Her lips twitched, even as she straightened and tried to wipe at her cheeks. “He did not hurt me.Ihurthim. He had not realized I came to Tostinham as part of the investigation. He did not realize I manipulated him when I…when I…”
“Ah.” Bull cleared his throat and shifted her against his shoulder. “I suspect we’re getting into territory ye’d rather me no’ question, and I’d rather not ken, is that correct?”
“Yes,” she sniffed.
“Do ye love him?”
She smiled sadly up at her brother. “Always.”
“Well, then, let me just say to ye what I said to him yesterday: Yer past is yer past. Whatever happened all those years ago,whatever happened last week…if ye love him, and he loves ye, then it’s the future that matters. What ye can build together.”
She sighed. “I suppose you are right.”
“Of course I am. I’m quite brilliant.”
Marcia jabbed him in the side. “You are a swell lad, and you have a head to match.”
It was one of their Uncle Duncan’s favorite jokes, and made Bull grin as he caught her finger. “Seriously, Marsh, itwillbe aright, if the two of ye can just sit down and talk things through. He’ll come around, because I ken he loves ye. Yesterday he gave me the strongest impression he did want a future with ye.”
She sniffed, her tears stopped. “He asked me to marry him.”
An almost imperceptible stiffening was Bull’s only reaction, before he relaxed and pulled her into a closer hug. “I’m happy for ye both,” he said, his voice heavy with emotion.
And Marcia knew he meant it.
Was Bull right?
Could Hawk forgive her?
Could she explain herself well enough that he would understand why she’d done what she’d done? Or would he hate her forever?
