Page 73 of The Groom Wore Plaid
“Nellie Hepburn.” She lowered her gaze. “My da should not have run off like that. ’Twas impolite.”
“I do not mind. I ken ’tis difficult to change the hearts of those who’ve spent their whole lives thinking one way.” She paused. “Are ye willing to give peace between our clans a chance?”
Nellie’s big brown eyes went wide. “I’m a woman like you, mistress. We don’t want our men dying for what amounts to a matter of pride.”
“I’m so glad to hear that. I’d like to help find a way to convince others like your father that I mean well. If I write him a letter, would it help?”
Nellie shook her head. “Mistress, he cannot read.”
Ah, just what Maggie needed to know.
“Could ye read my note to him?”
“I wouldn’t be able to do more than make out a few of the letters,” she said, blushing.
“I’m sorry. Then might I visit ye sometime? Ye live in the village?”
Nellie’s expression showed a bit of fear. “I’m not sure that’s wise just yet. I promise to bring him to the castle more often so he can see how good ye are for his lordship.”
Maggie actually felt herself blush. “I—what a kind thing to say.”
“The way the two of ye look at each other . . .’tis very romantic.” Now it was Nellie’s turn to blush.
Maggie touched the woman’s arm. “Thank ye.”
“Just the truth, mistress. But please, as for my da. Leave him to me, ye ken?”
“I do.”
She watched Nellie hurry away, shoulders hunched, and Maggie felt sorry she’d had to upset the woman so. But if no one in Martin’s family could write, then she could cross him off her list.
As for Gregor, Kathleen had mentioned he’d owned a smithy in the colonies. Surely he knew how to write.
LATERthat evening, Owen relaxed for what felt like the first time all day. The farewells that morning had been hard for Maggie. He felt relieved himself. He’d been concerned that Maggie would finally confess to her family her refusal to marry, especially after trying to find other eligible Duffs. Her brother would have been forced to attempt to take her home. That wasn’t going to happen, and it could very well have been a standoff between the two men. Owen had grown to respect Hugh over the last few days, and hadn’t wanted that to happen.
Owen was no longer surprised by the power of his obsession with Maggie. He found himself watching her whenever they were in the same room. She’d surprised him by talking to Martin Hepburn’s daughterearlier that day. Owen might have thought it was random, that she was just being polite, but she’d seemed to focus right in on the Hepburns. Strange.
And then this evening, one of his cousins arrived, one who hadn’t been in attendance the previous day. When Owen saw Maggie smiling as she spoke to him, Owen had felt such an overwhelming feeling of jealousy and possession, he’d had to stay away from them, lest he overreact. It felt like every part of the refined, logical man he’d once been was being stripped away, bit by bit, as if his ancestors were claiming him back to the Highlands, urging him to take the woman who was his.
When he saw Maggie to her room for bed, she tried to speak to him, but he wasn’t in the mood to listen, not with how confused he was feeling. He retreated to his own bedroom and when, not a quarter of an hour later, someone knocked, he opened the door, ready to confront Maggie.
But it was the housekeeper, and she was twisting her hands together uncharacteristically.
He frowned. “Mrs. Robertson, is something wrong?”
“Might I speak with ye, my lord?” she murmured, looking down the hall.
At Maggie’s room.
Owen stepped back and she followed him inside. He closed the door and regarded her, folding his arms over his chest. “What is this about?”
She bit her lip, then reached into a hidden pocket inthe folds of her skirt and pulled out a sheet of paper. “I thought I’d left one of Lady Aberfoyle’s chests in Mistress Maggie’s room, my lord. I was searching for an item she wanted, and I admit I was in hurry, and tossing things this way and that. But . . . I came across this. Oh, my lord, I—I—” And then she bowed her head.
Alarmed, he read:
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.
He stared at the words, unable to believe what they said. Maggie was so unhappy being forced to marry him that she wished to do herself harm?
