Page 83 of The Groom Wore Plaid
Everything inside Owen tightened into a twistedmass of anger, revenge—and through it all, the overwhelming sensation of relief. He could have lost Maggie. When that gunshot had rung across the mountain and he’d seen the spot of blood on her sleeve, the surprise and fear in her expression, his vaunted sense of dispassion and control had been obliterated. Someone had threatened the life of his future wife. She was an innocent, a woman being used to bring peace to two clans—she didn’t deserve to risk her life for it.
And he couldn’t lose her. The thought of his life without the rare grace of her smile was unfathomable. The challenge of matching wits with her brought true satisfaction. He was falling in love with her, and there was nothing he could do about it—
But protect her. The primitive need overrode all his thoughts of himself as a civilized man.
The only credible person who’d made any threats against her was Gregor. When Owen had first seen him in the smithy after the gunshot, it had taken an extreme act of will not to pummel him into the ground right there, to demand his vengeance like the days of old, where he could have met his enemy on the field and destroyed him in combat.
But he wasn’t a warrior knight—he was the chief of the Clan Duff and he had to rule his people with impartial justice—even though a cowardly worm like Gregor, who would shoot an innocent woman, didn’t deserve fairness.
But bringing the case against Gregor before the assemblyof gentlemen was the correct thing to do. It was his duty to keep the law for the clan, and his right to sentence a man for attempted murder, but even in his bloodlust, he wanted the fact to be undisputable. He wanted Gregor to confess.
And Gregor hadn’t. He’d been unable to name a witness who’d seen him within the castle before his shift in the smithy. And he hadn’t denied that he was against the uniting of the two clans. But he claimed he had not fired a musket at Maggie, that he’d never shoot a woman.
Owen wanted a confession, not a protestation of innocence, he thought, taking another swig of ale. He wanted to know that the right man paid for the crime. For years, he had watched his father hand out punishments with little care for the truth. He’d been a dictator, a man who believed in the superiority and power of his title, and thought everyone else beneath him. Owen had been determined to be different, to bring justice to his clan and display fairness.
Now he felt as if the need for revenge was eating away his humanity. He’d spent his adult life combating his emotions, dealing in logic and science because it made sense, inspired nothing but pride and wonder and satisfaction. It was disheartening to realize that underneath, he could feel bloodthirsty because of a threat to his mate, as if man had not advanced inthousands of years, regardless of the ability to understand the planets or create new machines to aid mankind.
There was a knock on the door, and Owen turned his head. “Come in.”
Maggie entered, then leaned back against the closed door and regarded him warily. Such an expression actually disheartened him. Had he thought a threat to her life would make her confess her love and accept his protection? No, he knew her too well. She was independent, determined to have her own way even if it made no sense.
To his surprise, she hadn’t even dressed for the day, was still wearing her dressing gown. He forced his mind not to go to what lay just beneath, so close at hand. If he’d thought taking Maggie’s virginity would ease his obsession with her, he’d been completely wrong. He wanted her even more, and forcing himself to regard her dispassionately took great effort.
He arched a brow. “I thought after yesterday you would allow yourself to rest longer.”
She shook her head. “We need to have a discussion and it can’t wait.”
She approached him and stood at his side, staring out the window. He wanted to put his arm around her, but hesitated, then felt exasperated with himself. He slid his arm around her waist, and to his surprise, she leaned her head against his shoulder and sighed. Sucha small surrender from a woman like Maggie should have appeased him, but it didn’t.
“What is worrying you?” he asked quietly. “Gregor is confined. I promise he will never hurt you again. Is your arm sore?”
She shook her head almost impatiently. “’Twas barely a scratch. Nay, I am glad to know Gregor will pay for what he’s tried to do—not that I understand it, even now. But . . . that isn’t what I came here for. You need to know that I am with child.”
She said it so matter-of-factly that he almost didn’t understand the significance. And then he took her upper arms in his hands and stared into her face.
“With child?” he echoed, searching her eyes as if only seeing her emotions would have meaning. And then he realized a painful truth. “How can you know that? A woman has to miss her menses, and it’s only been days. Can you truly call yourself ‘late’ without waiting for a more appropriate length of time to pass?”
She sighed and shrugged off his hands. “Sometimes you exhaust me, Owen. Nay, I’ve not even missed my womanly time yet.”
He frowned. “I don’t understand.”
She put a hand on her stomach. “I dreamed of my advanced pregnancy come next spring. I know I will be having a child.”
She’d dreamed. Of course she’d dreamed, he thought. He knew better than to question her about it, whatever he felt. He wanted her as his wife; he wanteda child—and if her belief made it happen, so much the better.
And then he could see their babe in her arms, and the surge of tenderness and love was daunting.
“Then we shall marry as quickly as possible,” he said, feeling not one bit guilty to use her beliefs to persuade her.
She watched him with suspicion. “’Twas that easy to convince ye I spoke the truth? Ye suddenly believe in my dreams?”
“What do you want me to say, Maggie? I like having the truth from you. I want no secrets between us.”
“And ye want us to marry, and this is the perfect excuse.”
“I don’t need an excuse to marry you, although it seems you do.”
She glanced away, a blush of guilt rising. “Aye, this pregnancy changes things for me. I won’t have our child a bastard, as ye said. And with Gregor now being held for the crime against me . . .’tis time to accept my fate.”
