Page 37 of Wed to the Highlander
“And we wanted to keep playing,” another boy added.
“So you let her risk her life? Over a game?” Duncan barked. “She’s the lady of this house. And new to it. As her kinsmen, your job is to protect her.”
“My apologies, laird,” Nessa Howe, Peter’s mother, said as she gripped her son by the arm. “I’ll see this dinna happen again.”
Other parents murmured similarly. Then they grabbed their children, scolding them sharply as they dragged them off, most with promises of further retribution at home.
Iona looked as though she might cry.
Still kneeling, Duncan cupped Maggie’s shoulders, running his hands down her arms while scanning her for injury. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” she whispered, “Just frightened.”
He exhaled through his nose then clasped her to his chest, arms enveloping her so tightly she found it hard to breathe again.
When she coughed weakly, he let her go. Rising, he pulled her up with him.
“Come,” he said quietly. “We’ll get you clean, then you’ll tell me exactly what happened.”
She nodded—but as he led her inside, she looked back one more time.
The crawl space was empty.
But the sob still echoed in her bones.
Someone had been crying. And Maggie feared they weren’t alone.
***
Their dressing room was warm and scented faintly of the sandalwood soap she’d made only days ago. Steam curled from the tub—someone had prepared it, anticipating the need.
Maggie sat perched on the stool beside it, dusty, skirt rent beyond repair, face and arms streaked with dirt. Duncan knelt at her feet, removing her boots with careful hands. His movements were clipped—tense—but never harsh.
“I can do it—”
“No.” He didn’t look up. “I will, so I can see with my own eyes you were nae harmed.”
He peeled away her stockings next, his jaw clenched as dirt hit the floor. The torn overskirt came next, crumpled in his grip. Her petticoat followed then her stays and bodice, each movement careful and rough at once. When she stood in her shift, he whisked it over her head and helped her step into the tub with both hands on her waist, as if afraid she’d vanish in the steam.
Only when she’d settled did he speak again.
“What were you thinking?”
“I thought I’d be quick,” she said quietly. “And I didn’t want to disappoint the children.”
“The children,” he repeated flatly. “Who should’ve ended the game the moment that ball went under the stairs. You’re lucky the entire thing didn’t come down on your head.”
“I didn’t realize—”
“Youdid, Maggie.” His voice cracked. “I told you the north wing was unsafe. The tower, the steps, the crawl spaces. I made it very clear.”
She flinched, sinking deeper into the water.
He rose and began pacing, one hand fisting at his side. “Do you have any idea what went through my mind when I saw you buried in dirt. The boards fallen. Hearing your cries for help before I pulled you free.” He stopped and looked at her. “If I’d been ten seconds later—”
Her eyes filled with tears. “I don’t know what else to say, Duncan. Other than I’m sorry, and it will not happen again.”
He grunted and knelt beside the tub, reaching for the sponge. He washed her as she had him after the peat fire when he was covered in filth.
