Page 68 of The Groom Wore Plaid
And then Helen brought another handful of berries for the basket, and she looked so happy and sweet—a McCallum celebrating Lughnasadh with a Duff. It seemed suddenly both strange and wonderful. He and Maggie were helping to make that possible.
And when he found her again, he’d remind her that her life had begun to change, that she had the future of two clans to help mold. She didn’t need to hold herself back.
An hour later, at dinner in the great hall, another overflow of food welcomed the berry pickers and those arriving for the horse race. Owen found Maggie with Cat and the Ladies McCallum and Duff, and Maggie gave him a sweet smile with a tinge of the devil in her eyes. Cat looked back and forth between them and tried to hide her amusement.
His mother bade him sit. “Come eat with us, Owen.”
“Not if you’re going to discuss needlework, Mother.”
The two older ladies exchanged a look and a laugh.
He eyed them both, hands on his hips. “You honestly became friends because of needlework?”
Their smiles died and this second glance between them told a more sobering tale.
Lady Aberfoyle gave a deep sigh. “No, it wasn’t just needlework, son. I soon realized who better to understand the kind of marriage I had—”
“—than one who had suffered through the same,” Lady McCallum said kindly, putting her hand on Lady Aberfoyle’s.
Owen found himself glancing helplessly at Maggie. Her eyes had a sheen of tears. Cat bowed her head.
His mother turned to Maggie. “I found it difficult when you arrived here.”
Owen stiffened. “Mother—”
“Let Edith speak,” Lady McCallum interrupted.
“Please do,” Maggie added.
He clenched his jaw and remained silent. He didn’t want his mother hurting Maggie any more than she already had. How many people had to mistrust his betrothed before she fled from his household for good?
Youmistrust her.
This voice in his head was beginning to annoy him.
“Thank you for listening, Maggie,” Lady Aberfoyle said. “I always knew my son would marry, of course,but I thought she would be an English bride, or at least a wealthy Lowland girl. He spent so much time in England, I just assumed . . .” She sighed. “And then he offered for you, and it was as if all of my recently dead husband’s sins were being flung at my feet.”
As his mother wiped a tear from the corner of her eye, all Owen could think was that she wanted pity.
“And to focus on myself was a mistake, of course,” Lady Aberfoyle continued, “but so often in my life, with a man such as the late earl, if I didn’t, no one else would take care of me. And no, Owen, you have always cared for me.”
She probably could read his anger and bewilderment from even an eye twitch. Deadly pale, Cat watched their mother soberly.
“But my husband was dead,” Lady Aberfoyle continued, “and I thought at last I would be free of the guilt of what I’d had to stand by and watch him do. But Maggie, you were a reminder I could not escape. I love you, Cat,” she said, turning to face her daughter, “and I showed it too much. I knew your cousin Riona’s parents were neglecting her, and I thought your compassion to her was sweet and inspiring. But your father—your father felt his brother was using his generosity. When it came time to live up to the contract your father had made with the late Laird McCallum, I watched, appalled, as he sent you away, Cat, and misled Riona into taking your place. Until that point, I had no idea he wished to change his mind. From your birth I’dpleaded with him to find another way to peace, to not betroth two children together, leaving them to bear the burden of the clans’ expectations.” She took a deep shuddering breath. “But did I do anything to stop his manipulation at the end? I did not. I didn’t know how. And seeing you here, Maggie, betrothed to my son because he cared more for honor than his father did—it reminded me of all I’d done wrong. It was . . . so difficult to watch the man I’d freely married become more and more dishonorable with every year that passed. But that does not excuse my lack of welcome, as I tried to face everything that had happened. Can you forgive me, child?” she pleaded with Maggie.
No one said anything for a moment. Cat’s shoulders shook beneath her bowed head. Lady McCallum still clutched Lady Aberfoyle’s hand as if giving her support. Owen remembered that Lady McCallum had had to own up to standing by while her drunken husband abused innocents, committing even worse crimes.
Owen knew what he would have done in their place—but he was a man, used to the freedom of being in command and taking for granted the ability to make his own decisions. He wondered what would have happened if these two women had gone against their husbands in a world that permitted a husband to imprison his wife for no justifiable reason.
And then Maggie hugged his mother. “Of course, my lady. There is little enough for me to forgive.”
He was stunned at Maggie’s generosity to a womanwho’d treated her badly. Maggie seemed to believe that the past was the past, and that forgiveness enabled people to move on. He’d once asked for the same gift after leading her on when he’d been betrothed to another. But after her graciousness, he’d dismissed her dreams with scorn, and now he’d done it again. Even if he couldn’t understand her dreams, he was beginning to see thatshebelieved in them, that she honestly was trying to save his life. Her brother seemed too happy and in love to be plotting with her against the Duffs—his own wife’s clan.
But that didn’t mean Owen could ever accept such visions as the truth, and he wouldn’t mislead her.
Lady Aberfoyle patted Maggie gratefully, wiped the tears from her eyes. “Thank you. Now I need to find my niece and apologize to her. This festival is a day of new beginnings, yes?”
Lady McCallum stood up as well, put an arm through her new friend’s, and walked slowly with her.
