beating in her place, memories of her dreams were what she’d retreated to.
As she’d grown, so had the little boy, and she’d seen him less and less. Her dreams had become scarcer, and only truly powerful ones appeared to her, like the girl who’d killed herself. She’d told herself that she’d simply outgrown the need for a make-believe friend in her dreams, but there’d always been a part of her who’d missed him.
And as if her thoughts had conjured him, she saw the Duff chief himself striding through the heather, his blue and green plaid swaying above his bare knees.And in that moment, she remembered what it was like to be with him when she was a young woman, the excitement building as he came toward her, the breathless wonder of being in his company, basking in his humor, admiring his dedication to learning, something she knew was forbidden to her. It was still so thrilling to be the focus of his intense gaze, to feel a clenching deep in the pit of her stomach that made her feel weak, betrayed by her own body.
As she sat upon the rock, his eyes swept over her as if he could see beneath her skirts. She kept her legs tightly together, though she wanted to lean back, languid with longing, brazen enough to display herself for him.
“I wondered where you’d disappeared to,” he said.
“Ye didn’t confine me to the castle, now did ye?” To her relief, she sounded almost normal.
“I would not do that. This is your home now.”
Home. Just the thought shocked her back to her life, but instead of the truth she knew she had to say, she mused, “I’ve never been sure where home was.”
She quickly looked away from him, back to the beautiful picture of the double arches of stone over the calm moat waters, the castle rising up behind like a solitary mountain. She shouldn’t be talking to him about this, but the words had just . . . spilled out.
“Because your father had so many estates?”
She shook her head. “Larig Castle was the homeof my childhood, and although it means much to my clan, it has sad, frightening memories for me.”
He came to stand beside the rock she sat upon, gazing where she did, at the castle. It was a relief that he wasn’t intently studying her.
“I think I was too shy to tell ye the details when we were younger, but my mother took Hugh and me away to Edinburgh to live with her family,” Maggie said slowly. Since she was about to tell him of her dream, she wanted him to know something about her, to understand what formed her.
“I remember you telling me your father was a drunkard.”
“Aye, and that was the main reason. But she also wanted to take Hugh away from the friends he’d gotten into trouble with. Edinburgh was a good place for us. Ye remember our tenement—there were so many people to meet. But . . . was it home? Nay, it never seemed like it, though I’ve mostly lived there these last ten years.” She sighed. “Part of me longed for the mountains that cradled Loch Voil and seemed to rim my world.”
“You’re back in the Highlands now,” Owen said. “Soon you will feel at home here.”
She stiffened, knowing he’d given her the perfect opening. She stood up, speaking with cool determination. “I won’t ever be at home here, Owen. I cannot marry ye.”
She faced him head on, but he was still looking at the castle. For a long minute neither of them said a thing. Then at last he turned and squared off against her, folding his arms across his chest and regarding her with narrowed brown eyes.
“You’ve changed your mind already? You give fickle women a bad name, Maggie.”
She took a deep, steadying breath and resisted the urge to insult him back. “I thought I could marry ye. Though I was angry about everything that had happened between us, and having to fix everyone else’s mistakes, I accepted my role in all of this. But last night changed everything.”
“Last night,” he echoed with sarcasm.
“Owen, I dreamed a terrible dream.”
He
As she’d grown, so had the little boy, and she’d seen him less and less. Her dreams had become scarcer, and only truly powerful ones appeared to her, like the girl who’d killed herself. She’d told herself that she’d simply outgrown the need for a make-believe friend in her dreams, but there’d always been a part of her who’d missed him.
And as if her thoughts had conjured him, she saw the Duff chief himself striding through the heather, his blue and green plaid swaying above his bare knees.And in that moment, she remembered what it was like to be with him when she was a young woman, the excitement building as he came toward her, the breathless wonder of being in his company, basking in his humor, admiring his dedication to learning, something she knew was forbidden to her. It was still so thrilling to be the focus of his intense gaze, to feel a clenching deep in the pit of her stomach that made her feel weak, betrayed by her own body.
As she sat upon the rock, his eyes swept over her as if he could see beneath her skirts. She kept her legs tightly together, though she wanted to lean back, languid with longing, brazen enough to display herself for him.
“I wondered where you’d disappeared to,” he said.
“Ye didn’t confine me to the castle, now did ye?” To her relief, she sounded almost normal.
“I would not do that. This is your home now.”
Home. Just the thought shocked her back to her life, but instead of the truth she knew she had to say, she mused, “I’ve never been sure where home was.”
She quickly looked away from him, back to the beautiful picture of the double arches of stone over the calm moat waters, the castle rising up behind like a solitary mountain. She shouldn’t be talking to him about this, but the words had just . . . spilled out.
“Because your father had so many estates?”
She shook her head. “Larig Castle was the homeof my childhood, and although it means much to my clan, it has sad, frightening memories for me.”
He came to stand beside the rock she sat upon, gazing where she did, at the castle. It was a relief that he wasn’t intently studying her.
“I think I was too shy to tell ye the details when we were younger, but my mother took Hugh and me away to Edinburgh to live with her family,” Maggie said slowly. Since she was about to tell him of her dream, she wanted him to know something about her, to understand what formed her.
“I remember you telling me your father was a drunkard.”
“Aye, and that was the main reason. But she also wanted to take Hugh away from the friends he’d gotten into trouble with. Edinburgh was a good place for us. Ye remember our tenement—there were so many people to meet. But . . . was it home? Nay, it never seemed like it, though I’ve mostly lived there these last ten years.” She sighed. “Part of me longed for the mountains that cradled Loch Voil and seemed to rim my world.”
“You’re back in the Highlands now,” Owen said. “Soon you will feel at home here.”
She stiffened, knowing he’d given her the perfect opening. She stood up, speaking with cool determination. “I won’t ever be at home here, Owen. I cannot marry ye.”
She faced him head on, but he was still looking at the castle. For a long minute neither of them said a thing. Then at last he turned and squared off against her, folding his arms across his chest and regarding her with narrowed brown eyes.
“You’ve changed your mind already? You give fickle women a bad name, Maggie.”
She took a deep, steadying breath and resisted the urge to insult him back. “I thought I could marry ye. Though I was angry about everything that had happened between us, and having to fix everyone else’s mistakes, I accepted my role in all of this. But last night changed everything.”
“Last night,” he echoed with sarcasm.
“Owen, I dreamed a terrible dream.”
He
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