Page 71 of The Groom Wore Plaid
She had one more full day with her family, and she intended to enjoy it. After a restless night of little sleep, she spent the day watching a footrace among the children and then among the men, cheering on both her brothers. Cat put up a fuss about women not getting to compete at anything, and soon at least a dozen women—Maggie included—kicked off their shoes and stockings and raced barefoot across the meadow.
It was strange for Maggie to be a part of such an event after a lifetime of reserve, but it certainly felt good to be exhausted and laughing and not think about her problems.
At dinner, the bard professed a long recitation of theDuff clan history, and Maggie translated for Riona and Cat, who, having been raised in England, were only now just learning their Gaelic.
That evening, Maggie took advantage of their new friendship by sitting down with Lady Aberfoyle and asking about the Duff family history, just as someone might who would be joining the family. Of course, her motive had deeper reasons, and she was able to steer the conversation toward details about Owen’s closest male cousins. To her relief many of them were in attendance, and the lady helpfully pointed them out, including two bachelor cousins.
“There you are, Owen!” Lady Aberfoyle suddenly called to someone behind Maggie.
Maggie wanted to wince, then silently reminded herself she’d already told him her plan. She turned and gave him a pleasant smile.
“Maggie is quite ready to join the family now,” Lady Aberfoyle said.
“Why specifically now?” Owen said, then raised an eyebrow at Maggie.
“Because she’s been so interested in everyone,” Lady Aberfoyle said. “I’ve just been pointing out your various cousins.”
“You have?” Owen said with interest. “Then that means I should introduce them to her. Do you mind if I take Maggie away, Mother?”
Wearing a pleased smile, his mother agreed, and Maggie had no choice but to go with Owen.
“Interested in my family, are you?” he asked pleasantly, even as he slid a tight arm around her waist. “The male ones, perchance?”
She didn’t confirm nor deny—what was the point? She spent the next half hour meeting various Duffs, all while Owen kept a possessive arm around her. Some she’d already seen in passing and hadn’t even realized how closely related to Owen they truly were. She didn’t want Owen to think he’d won, so she was eager and interested and asked polite questions of each one. Every so often she caught a glimpse of her mother regarding her dubiously, but Maggie ignored that, too.
Owen’s cousins were attractive men—being so closely related to Owen, of course—and one, his second cousin, was an accomplished barrister in Edinburgh. He and Maggie would have the most in common, she knew.
But really—she was hardly going to do anything about finding a new husband right now. She was betrothed to the earl—it was Owen who needed to accept that she wouldn’t marry him, to allow her her freedom to save her clan however she could. But he obviously wasn’t ready to do that. Their wedding date was growing closer and closer, as he was so fond of pointing out; the banns had been read twice now. Was he honestly going to make her reject him before God, a priest, and everyone they knew, instead of joining with her to find a different solution?
Was he so confident that she was wrong, that he’d willingly risk death?
That night, she prepared for bed, already beginning to mourn the next day’s departure of her family. When Kathleen had gone, Maggie pulled the counterpane down and fluffed her pillow—and saw a several pieces of folded paper sticking out from beneath. She froze, remembering the talisman she’d found in her bed ten days ago. Carefully, she pulled it out, opened it, and studied the writing on the first paper in surprise. It looked like her own hand, but something seemed . . . wrong.
She read the first paragraph and froze.
Owen, forgive me. I could not bear to be the cause of such dissent among your clan and disappoint my own people. With me gone, you’ll be free to choose the woman you want. I won’t suffer long, I promise. Drowning is a quick death.
Maggie gasped aloud and read it again, her hands trembling. She quickly went to the second page, which had a bold messy scrawl with the words:
Go home while you still can.
She slowly sank down on the bed—and hastily stood up again. She hadn’t been chased away by fires,an evil talisman, rocks meant to trip her, or the anger of Martin and Gregor, so someone had decided to be far more direct.
Go home while you still can.
It was a cowardly act, anonymous taunts to scare her into abandoning the marriage and the contract between their clans.
Or was it not anonymous? Had Gregor or Martin already shown her their contempt, and when their hatred hadn’t worked, they’d taken to threats?
She stared at the letter again, trying to think without letting her panic overwhelm her. Someone had copied her handwriting. The only samples were the letters to her family. And she knew they’d received them—at least some of them, because both her mother and Riona had mentioned them. So at least one of her letters had been either borrowed or stolen. Who had the skill to copy such a thing? So far, only two men had shown outright objection to the marriage and were her only suspects so far. It could be anyone, but she couldn’t let herself panic over the unknown. She had to rule Gregor and Martin out first. She didn’t know if either of the men could write, and that would be the place to start.
She buried the two notes deep in one of her chests, the one with her winter garments, and crawled into bed—after checking it thoroughly for any other unwelcome surprises, and pushing a chest in front of thedoor. She lay wide awake for a long time and considered if she should tell Owen or not. She’d been threatened, aye, but no one had tried to harm her.
But he needed to know. She’d been honest with him from the beginning, and she wasn’t going to start lying now. She’d tell him . . . after her family left. She didn’t trust Owen to keep it a secret from them, and all she’d need wastwofurious Highland chiefs keeping her locked up in her room as they looked for an enemy. The threats had been against her—she wasn’t about to cower until they went away. However the contract was satisfied, there would be peace between the Duffs and the McCallums. She would see to it, and no one would stop her.
CHAPTER16
The next morning in the great hall, Maggie sniffed back her tears as she hugged her family good-bye. Riona and Cat held each other tightly, literally rocking in a fierce hug. Hugh practically lifted Maggie off the ground in a warm embrace.
