Page 85 of The Groom Wore Plaid
ANhour later, when Maggie called for Kathleen to help her dress, the maid arrived in a far more subdued manner than she’d ever shown before. Her complexion was pale, her eyes downcast, and Maggie experienced a pang of sadness and even guilt, though she’d done nothing wrong.
She put a hand on Kathleen’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry about your brother.”
Kathleen nodded. “Thank ye, mistress.”
“Is there anything I can do?”
Kathleen finally searched Maggie’s eyes as if looking for answers. At last she shook her head. “I cannot believe my brother guilty of this, but I’m content to know that the assembly will listen to his words. I will find witnesses for him.”
Maggie nodded, and when Kathleen began to unlace her gown, she debated asking about the charge of witchcraft that Gregor had made against a woman in the colonies. But what was Kathleen going to do—incriminate her brother? So Maggie said nothing.
Nine days sped by in a rush of business, from planning the wedding with Cat to working with Mrs. Robertson to learning the methods of the household. Nowthat Maggie had accepted her role as mistress, she would not shirk it.
And it gave her a good reason to avoid Owen as much as she could. She was frightened of the power of her feelings for him, and felt vulnerable knowing he did not feel the same way. She couldn’t let herself openly love him, couldn’t give him that power over her. She knew that without being in love, someday he might grow bored with her, and she was afraid of how crushed she’d be to see him try to hide his disinterest. She stayed away from his bedroom, and asked the same of him. She wanted at least something of their wedding night to feel special, and if that was a renewal of exploring the pleasures of their bodies, then she would accept that.
When her family arrived the day before the ceremony, she felt some trepidation. But she’d warned her brother by letter what had been going on, so that he could provide a strong escort, and would be wary within the walls of Castle Kinlochard. Brendan; Hugh; his wife, Riona; and their mother arrived late in the evening. Maggie had a quiet supper sent to their dressing room and joined them for a talk.
Hugh ate with his usual hearty appetite, and Riona would have joined him, but she obviously saw the concerned looks Lady McCallum couldn’t hide.
Maggie ignored it all and talked with excitement about the food that would be served at the banquet afterward and the flowers she’d planned to decoratethe church with. Brendan fell asleep and Hugh carried him to his bedroom, and on his return gave Maggie a look. She was boring him to tears, she knew, but it was for the best. She was hoping Hugh hadn’t informed his wife about Gregor’s threats against Maggie.
“I can’t take any more of this,” Riona said at last, rising to her feet and beginning to pace. “Maggie, aren’t you frightened that this man—what’s his name?” she asked her husband.
“Gregor,” Hugh said as he sat back and eyed Maggie.
“That this Gregor had such hatred hidden within him?”
Maggie let out a frustrated breath. “Hugh, ye were supposed to keep this a secret. I didn’t want anyone worried for nothing.”
“Ye’ll find out soon enough, sister dear, that there are few secrets in a marriage.”
“Few!” Riona echoed, rounding on him.
He put both hands up, smiling. “I was teasing.”
Riona rolled her eyes, then reached to take Maggie’s hand. “Were you not scared? I heard there was a fire, and threatening words, and then a gunshot!”
Maggie frowned at her brother, who only shrugged. She said, “It no longer matters, because the man is under guard now.”
Her mother was watching her very carefully, but said nothing.
Riona turned back to Hugh. “And this is all right with you?”
“Of course it’s not all right,” Hugh said. “I am disturbed that my own sister would keep these things from me the last time we were here. But I also know she thought she was doing what was best. I sometimes pity poor Owen,” he said, almost as an aside.
“I had to keep silent,” Maggie insisted. “I didn’t want ye here, where ye could be hurt. As for me, I had Owen’s protection.”
“And he did a crack job at that, I see,” Hugh said dryly.
“I am alive and well and about to be married.”
“And ye seem so happy about that.” His voice took on a note of sarcasm.
She took a deep breath. “Iamhappy. This will be a good marriage.”
“Does he love ye?” Hugh shot back.
She hesitated. “I don’t know. I want to believe it will happen, but he’s a man who doesn’t show his emotions—unlike you, brother dear, who shows more emotions than are necessary.”
