Page 101 of Surrender Your Grace
How had it come to this?
A betrothal born of scandal, propelled by duty, and the promise of a fortune, and the rigid opinions of her mother and too many stubborn men with titles. Chief among them, the Earl of Rothbury, laird of the MacPherson clan in some distant, mist-drenched corner of the Highlands who insisted on honoring a contract she’d practically dared him to break.
Cici appeared in the doorway. “They’re ready to begin.”
“I’m not,” she snorted derisively. “Not that my opinion or feelings matter in any of this.”
Her friend approached, her voice gentle. “I’m sorry I’ve been preoccupied with my own problems. What happened to ending the betrothal?”
Maggie looked up, beyond frustrated. “I tried everything, Cici. Things so haughty, so arrogant, so insufferably annoying they would have had me sprinting back to the Highlands if I were him.”
She resumed pacing, skirts swishing. “I scoffed at his clan tartan, called his castle mildewy, and compared the sound of bagpipes to a wounded goat. I even took inspiration from you and joined him for whiskey and a cigar at the Wallingford dinner last week.”
“Oh, Maggie, you didn’t. That didn’t end well for me.”
“I did—even though cigars are revolting and I almost became ill on the library rug.”
“That’s scandalous,” Cici exclaimed. “Why is no one talking of it.”
“Because news of the Duchess of Sommerville being born on the wrong side of the blanket rather eclipsed my bold moment.”
“Right. Incredibly bad timing. Sorry.”
She waved her hand. “Duncan escorted me out so hastily, I doubt anyone noticed. I expected him to call it off that very night—but do you know what he did?”
Clueless, Cici shook her head.
“He laughed.” Maggie threw up her hands. “As if I were some charming eccentric instead of a desperate woman doing her utmost to chase him off. Nothing—nothing—shook his resolve to go through with this.”
Moving closer, Cici laid a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. “Maybe it won’t be as bad as you think. Andrew and I started in much the same way—with distance and mistrust, and a thousand things unspoken. But love grew despite everything. I pray it will for you, too.”
Her gaze dropped to the stunning ring on her finger, which she was twisting nervously. She shoved her hands in her skirt and whispered, “He loves his clan, his castle, his bloody inheritance. That is his life, and his legacy. And I… I don’t see where I fit into it. Except dead last.”
Cici gave her arm a squeeze. “Then change the order. Show him that his legacy, and his life, won’t matter without you beside him.”
Maggie gave a watery smile. “You always did believe in the impossible.”
“It took time, but I learned to trust my husband and believe in us. Now I believe in you.”
“Is there a problem?” Andrew asked from the doorway.
“Nothing new,” she grumbled.
Andrew glanced at Cici. “Give us five minutes, sweeting. Then play us in.”
She nodded, giving Maggie’s shoulder a final squeeze before disappearing inside.
“Duncan is a good man,” Andrew said once they were alone. “He cares for you and would move mountains to keep you safe. I wouldn’t give you into his keeping otherwise.”
“Care and keeping,” she repeated. “Just what every bride wants to hear on her wedding day.”
“Maggie…”
“Answer this for me, Andrew,” she said with less sarcasm. “If Father or James were here, do you think they’d give me to him?”
“Yes,” he said without hesitation. “Especially if they knew Duncan like I do.”
“Do you think... he might grow to love me? Like you did with Cici?”
