Page 46 of The Groom Wore Plaid
He could see a low line of clouds heading east, the ones that had left his clothing damp with light rain during the competition. The wind picked up, bringing with it the scent of vegetation and earth—his earth.
“Takes one’s breath away, does it not?” he asked. “The view reminds me of all I’m now responsible for.”
“It cannot be a surprise to ye,” she said dryly.
“It’s not. I’ve been raised to assume this position my entire life. But it’s different than I imagined.”
She glanced at him, those unusual eyes inquisitive.“The knowledge that ye’re responsible for the welfare of hundreds of people is surely daunting.”
“If I make a poor decision, people will suffer. Were we not to marry, many others would suffer in both our clans.”
She stiffened the moment he mentioned their marriage, but instead of changing the subject, she said, “I’d like to read our marriage contract. I’ve been studying your law books and—”
“There’s no need.”
“Idemandto see it!”
“There is nothing there to give you hope nor to trap you. Your brother surely read it—he would have told you if there was something vague. I know you intend to invite him to the festival, but that might not be possible if things are still unsettled between us.”
She stiffened. “Owen, no more threats. My brother has to come. I need to see my family.”
Coldly, he said, “Or you need to beg him to take you away from here.”
“I wouldn’t do that, and ye know it,” she insisted, her voice rising. “I will not give up on peace between our clans. I promise to find a way to settle things without the risk of marrying ye.”
“Risk?”
She quickly glanced away from him as if taking in the view. The wind briefly buffeted them both, just as life was doing to them.
He turned his frown on the stones. “Is that why Euphemiabrought you here, to see if old stones had some mystic connection to you or these supposed dreams?”
He saw a tick in her jaw from clenching her teeth so hard, but she didn’t answer.
“You should not have brought up our private struggles with her, Maggie.”
“What choice did I have?” she demanded. “Ye won’t listen—ye’d rather risk your death in an attempt to prove I’m a fool.”
“You think I take pleasure in proving you wrong?”
“Victory, triumph, whatever ye want to call it. Ye’re used to being right and won’t accept that there are things ye don’t understand.”
He said nothing—he’d already said it all. He didn’t like being suspicious of her plans for her brother, but it reminded him that much as he was trying to seduce her, he could never trust her.
But there was her concern for his safety . . .
Maggie let out an exaggerated sigh. “Surely there’s another woman you can marry, far more sophisticated than I, who would make the perfect wife for an earl. Ye had to negotiate with your father for the right to choose your bride. That meant much to ye. Surely ye had plans, lists of suitable women, perhaps. There must be a distant McCallum relative ye can marry in there somewhere.”
He caught her by the upper arms so he could look into her face.
“I am amused by your image of me with dozens ofwomen on some sort of marriage list.” And then the truth came to him, and he said it without considering the consequences. “You know why none of those women interested me? They’re sheltered by their fathers; they care only about themselves or Society. And yes, some of them might do the occasional charity, but they don’t know what it really means.You’velived among your people,you’veexperienced harsh winters and bad crops and fevers.Youwere born to be the wife of a chief. And in eighteen days, you’ll be one.”
She flinched.
“You’re simply afraid of your destiny,” he continued, “afraid that you’re not in control.”
“I don’t care about control!” she cried. “And destiny—such a vague word. Can ye believe in destiny, Owen?” She advanced on him. “It sounds the same as believing in dreams.”
“Not the way I’m using it.”
