ye want to die?”
“I won’t die, and I’m disappointed you think such a foolish thing will dissuade me. Do you doubt my intelligence?”
“How can I doubt what ye never let anyone forget?” she shot back.
A corner of his mouth turned up, as if he found her amusing.
“Don’t make light of me, Owen, or this curse I’ve had to live with my whole life. I’m trying to help ye.”
“Are you? Or are you somehow trying to help your clan? Was this your brother’s idea?”
She took a step away. “Of course not! He was the one who tried to make the contract work when your father schemed to break it. Ye think I’d invent a story to avoid my responsibilities?”
“It looks like it. Although I wouldn’t have believed it of you, it seems these last ten years have changed you.”
“And they haven’t changed you at all!”
They faced one another down, and Maggie realizedshe might never convince him of the truth. She was alone in this.
“I don’t know what you thought you’d achieve with such a tale,” he said, “but it will not work. You agreed to marry me, and I’m holding you to it.”
“Even if it means your death,” she said, feeling older, sadder, frustrated.
“Threats, Maggie?” he asked softly.
“I’m not going to kill ye! I don’t ken who tries—I didn’t see that part of the dream.” But perhaps that’s what she had to discover, if ever she was to convince him.
“I’m not going to risk my clan’s future on your foolish whim.”
“Is this guilt over the part your father played or determination to be nothing like him?” she demanded coldly.
“Enough, Maggie. We will marry. And then I will spend my nights making you glad for it.”
He spoke with promise, his voice husky, his eyes intense.
He was going to die, and all he cared about was having his pleasure. She whirled away and began to march back toward the castle, feeling him fall into step at her side, though she refused to look his way.
“August is the month for lovers in Scotland,” he continued.
She stared at him, infuriated. He was going to ignore her warnings—again.
“This is the month that the harvest approaches, thattrial marriages begin,” he continued, lecturing her. “It’s a new season for many things—and it will be for us, too.”
He gave another one of those faint smiles that looked as if he didn’t remember how to laugh; he certainly hadn’t been so closed off as a young man.
He was so firm in his beliefs about the world. One would have thought a man who fancied himself a scientist would accept that there were things he couldn’t yet prove. Or did a frustrated scientist cling even more firmly to only what the logic of science could tell him?
Being with Himself as she walked through the courtyard was a different experience. She saw how his people nodded respectfully to him, how the men training with their swords seemed to show off their parries and thrusts.
But she was still thinking about Owen and how he’d changed. She remembered him in her childhood dreams. Had that been fate’s way of allowing her to know him from the beginning? She’d been granted rare insight to the stubborn boy with a passion for learning, who also adored the outdoors and his Highlands.
He was still stubborn, but he had the power of a chiefdom, an earldom, behind him now. He could try to force her to wed, and though she would resist, she had to be prepared to fight him with the truth. She had to determine how the dream ended. She could not take lightly that she’d been connected to him her entire life—perhaps it had all been so that she could save him, fool that he was.
C HAPTER 4
O wen knew the moment his bodyguard fell into step behind him in the courtyard. As the daughter of a chief, Maggie probably took it for granted, because she only bid Owen a good afternoon, then headed for the towerhouse. Owen stood still a moment, watching her walk away. The sway of her hips was an age-old siren song to a man,
“I won’t die, and I’m disappointed you think such a foolish thing will dissuade me. Do you doubt my intelligence?”
“How can I doubt what ye never let anyone forget?” she shot back.
A corner of his mouth turned up, as if he found her amusing.
“Don’t make light of me, Owen, or this curse I’ve had to live with my whole life. I’m trying to help ye.”
“Are you? Or are you somehow trying to help your clan? Was this your brother’s idea?”
She took a step away. “Of course not! He was the one who tried to make the contract work when your father schemed to break it. Ye think I’d invent a story to avoid my responsibilities?”
“It looks like it. Although I wouldn’t have believed it of you, it seems these last ten years have changed you.”
“And they haven’t changed you at all!”
They faced one another down, and Maggie realizedshe might never convince him of the truth. She was alone in this.
“I don’t know what you thought you’d achieve with such a tale,” he said, “but it will not work. You agreed to marry me, and I’m holding you to it.”
“Even if it means your death,” she said, feeling older, sadder, frustrated.
“Threats, Maggie?” he asked softly.
“I’m not going to kill ye! I don’t ken who tries—I didn’t see that part of the dream.” But perhaps that’s what she had to discover, if ever she was to convince him.
“I’m not going to risk my clan’s future on your foolish whim.”
“Is this guilt over the part your father played or determination to be nothing like him?” she demanded coldly.
“Enough, Maggie. We will marry. And then I will spend my nights making you glad for it.”
He spoke with promise, his voice husky, his eyes intense.
He was going to die, and all he cared about was having his pleasure. She whirled away and began to march back toward the castle, feeling him fall into step at her side, though she refused to look his way.
“August is the month for lovers in Scotland,” he continued.
She stared at him, infuriated. He was going to ignore her warnings—again.
“This is the month that the harvest approaches, thattrial marriages begin,” he continued, lecturing her. “It’s a new season for many things—and it will be for us, too.”
He gave another one of those faint smiles that looked as if he didn’t remember how to laugh; he certainly hadn’t been so closed off as a young man.
He was so firm in his beliefs about the world. One would have thought a man who fancied himself a scientist would accept that there were things he couldn’t yet prove. Or did a frustrated scientist cling even more firmly to only what the logic of science could tell him?
Being with Himself as she walked through the courtyard was a different experience. She saw how his people nodded respectfully to him, how the men training with their swords seemed to show off their parries and thrusts.
But she was still thinking about Owen and how he’d changed. She remembered him in her childhood dreams. Had that been fate’s way of allowing her to know him from the beginning? She’d been granted rare insight to the stubborn boy with a passion for learning, who also adored the outdoors and his Highlands.
He was still stubborn, but he had the power of a chiefdom, an earldom, behind him now. He could try to force her to wed, and though she would resist, she had to be prepared to fight him with the truth. She had to determine how the dream ended. She could not take lightly that she’d been connected to him her entire life—perhaps it had all been so that she could save him, fool that he was.
C HAPTER 4
O wen knew the moment his bodyguard fell into step behind him in the courtyard. As the daughter of a chief, Maggie probably took it for granted, because she only bid Owen a good afternoon, then headed for the towerhouse. Owen stood still a moment, watching her walk away. The sway of her hips was an age-old siren song to a man,
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