Page 78 of Her Magnificent Mistake
“Nay!” growled Hawk, likely thinking of revenge.
Without glancing at him, Marcia nodded slowly, noting that the gun was no longer pointed at Allison’s jaw, thank God. In fact, the pair of them had stepped away from the cliff edge and come closer. “Yes. It is just a trinket to me, but it could mean everything to Artrip, is that not right?”
Let us go.
Hawk groaned in what sounded like tortured agony. “For God’s sakes, Artrip, let Allie go. It’smeye want, eh?” From the corner of her vision, Marcia could see the man she loved edging sideways. “I’m the one who believes in Grandda’s vision for thisplace. I’m the one who helped him tame the burn. I’m the one who thinks?—”
“Uncle Maxwell.” Allison’s voice was calm and sharp. “Dotrynot to piss him off more than necessary, if you do not mind.”
Hawk shook his head. “Allie?—”
Marcia saw the girl’s lips suddenly curl upward knowingly. Saw her wink. As Hawk straightened in surprise, everything seemed to slow.
Allison slid her leg behind Artrip, cocked her hip and, using her hold on his forearm,flipped him over her shoulder.
As Artrip went flying, he lost his hold on the revolver. Hawk lunged for him, but Marcia stumbled toward the gun, thinking only to throw it over the cliff, out of Artrip’s hands.
Allison straightened, pumped one fist in the air, and yelled, “Suffra-jiujitsu!” but since everything was still in a sort of slow motion, she’d barely had time to get out the first syllable before Artrip was on his hands and knees, scrambling toward…towardMarcia?
She tossed the gun behind her as the old man reached her, arm outstretched, grasping. Rearing back, Marcia’s only thought was to get away from the terrifyingly determined look on the butler’s face and that clutching hand.
But she was too late.
Artrip’s fingers closed around the pendant and Marcia sucked in a gasp as a strange blue light seemed to flare from inside the glass, accompanied by a high-pitched note that wasn’t quite music. It sparkled through the space between Artrip’s fingers,and in that moment—that damned slow motion moment—the old man’s expression turned peaceful.
Then Hawk slammed into him from the side, tackling them both over the cliff.
This time Marciadidscream, but she didn’t know if it was in terror or in pain as Artrip’s grip yanked the pendant away from her, snapping the chain as the man she feared and the man she loved both fell into the burn.
Suddenly Allison was beside her and they were both scrambling toward the edge of the cliff…
Only to see Hawk dangling from a rock outcropping a few feet below the edge, his head tipped back, dark hair framing a miraculously unharmed smile.
“Oh, thank fook,” Marcia muttered, slumping to the ground, heart pounding.
Hawk’s smile grew. “Och, worried for me, lass?”
“Of course I was, you stupid man,” Marcia said in relief. “I love you.”
“I love you too, Uncle Maxwell,” Allison blurted. “Though I think in quite a different manner. Try not to fall—Mr. Artrip is lying down at the bottom, rather twisted and bloody. I am not sure he’d be a sufficiently soft landing for you.”
That news caused Hawk’s grin to falter. He took a deep breath, his booted feet scrambling for purchase. “I might be a tad clumsy, but I’ve been scrambling up and down these cliffs since I was a lad. I just need a little?—”
He grunted as both Marcia and Allison, stretched out at the top of the cliff, leaned down to grab his arms and help him up over the edge.
“Thank ye,” he panted as he gathered them both in his arms. She could almost see the relief pouring from his brow. “Good Christ, thank ye.” He buried his face in Marcia’s hair and inhaled. “I was so worried for ye.” He placed a kiss on Allison’s crown. “I thought—I thought I was going to lose ye both.”
“Do not be silly, Uncle Maxwell. Although I think it is quite clear that you need to trust the ladies in your life a bit more. We know what we are doing.”
Whether that meant Allison being willing to live in the wilderness with her only family, or Marcia wanting to marry him all those years ago. Hawk’s shaky laugh was echoed by Marcia.
Allison sniffed. “After all, we love you.”
“I love you too, lassie,” he muttered, voice tight. He shifted his attention to Marcia. “And ye. I thought I was going to die without telling ye how—how sorry I was. How stupid I’d been, and how I should no’ have assumed?—”
Surging up on quivering knees, Marcia captured his lips with hers. Her desperate hold on his neck tightened, and she kissed him with all the emotion—love, terror, surprise, exhilaration—of the last minutes.
At long last, when she pulled away, Hawk exhaled and pressed his forehead to hers, his other arm still around his niece. “I love ye, Marcia Calderbank. I always have.”
