accident that could have killed me—in fact very nearly did—just so I could pretend to lose my memory and fool ye into setting me aside.” She flew to her feet and walked away from him, so angry she trembled. “I’m beginning to see why Margaret was such a shrew. Ye’re behaving like an eejit.”
Logan frowned. “What did ye just say?”
She turned to face him. “I said ye’re behaving like an eejit.”
His expression was deadly serious. “Before that.”
“I-I said…” her voice trailed off. She knew exactly what she had said in the heat of the moment and she also knew she couldn’t explain it.
“Ye said, ye were beginning to see why Margaret was such a shrew.”
“Did I?”
“Ye know ye did. What did ye mean by that?”
Maggie looked down at Margaret’s small clenched fists. How could she explain this?
He pushed for an answer. “What did ye mean, Margaret?”
She sighed, shaking her head. She didn’t know what to say but decided to rely on facts. “I have no memories of being Margaret. It feels like Margaret is someone else. I know nothing about her except what ye’ve told me, but based on that, I don’t like her. I don’t want to be Margaret and I suspect ye deserve a better wife.” Every word of that was true.
He frowned. “Ye don’t want to be Margaret? Who do ye want to be?”
She remembered her conversation with Gertrude. Sometimes I wish I could have someone else’s life—just for a while. I wonder what it would feel like just to be away from the rubble of broken dreams. Well now she knew and she longed for home. Although she tried to blink it back, an errant tear made its way down her cheek. She dashed it away. “I just want to be Maggie.” As soon as she had uttered the words, she lost all ability to hold back her tears.
Logan crossed the room, taking her in his arms, “Wheesht lass. I didn’t mean to make ye cry. I’m sorry.”
His arms felt so good, so comforting. How long had it been? She had been the strong one for so many years now, she had forgotten how good it felt to lean on someone else occasionally. When she had regained control, she stepped back and wiped her face. “I’m sorry, I’m all right now.”
He kept his hands on her shoulders but cocked his head to look at her. “Ye’re right. Ye aren’t Margaret. I don’t understand how a bump on the head could do this, but ye aren’t the same lass who arrived three weeks ago, determined to hate everyone and everything here.” He guided her back to the chair and put a goblet of wine in her hand.
She took a sip. “So, ye’ll tell my da about the accident and send me home?”
He shook his head. “Nay, I won’t.”
“But, I’m not the lass ye agreed to marry. That surely is reason enough to break the betrothal.”
“It’s true, ye aren’t the lass I agreed to marry but frankly, I am beginning to like ye considerably more. I know ye don’t remember all of this, but I cannot break the betrothal. Relations between the Carrs and the Grants have never been ideal, but neither have there been open hostilities. Breaking our betrothal would change that. Yer da would see it as a grave insult. Other clans would see it the same way.”
“But I would explain—”
“Nay, there is no suitable explanation. The only thing worse than breaking the betrothal would have been if ye had actually been killed in the accident. That’s why I was so angry with ye. If something that terrible had happened, if ye had died in my care after only a few weeks, it would have started a blood feud.”
“But I caused the accident myself.”
Logan snorted. “Yer father would be unlikely to believe that. But even if he did, he would still blame me for not exerting greater control in preventing ye from harming yerself.”
Maggie was incredulous. “So if something happened to me, if I…died…ye would be blamed regardless of the fault?”
“Regardless of the fault? Ye’re in my care, the fault would be mine.”
The
Logan frowned. “What did ye just say?”
She turned to face him. “I said ye’re behaving like an eejit.”
His expression was deadly serious. “Before that.”
“I-I said…” her voice trailed off. She knew exactly what she had said in the heat of the moment and she also knew she couldn’t explain it.
“Ye said, ye were beginning to see why Margaret was such a shrew.”
“Did I?”
“Ye know ye did. What did ye mean by that?”
Maggie looked down at Margaret’s small clenched fists. How could she explain this?
He pushed for an answer. “What did ye mean, Margaret?”
She sighed, shaking her head. She didn’t know what to say but decided to rely on facts. “I have no memories of being Margaret. It feels like Margaret is someone else. I know nothing about her except what ye’ve told me, but based on that, I don’t like her. I don’t want to be Margaret and I suspect ye deserve a better wife.” Every word of that was true.
He frowned. “Ye don’t want to be Margaret? Who do ye want to be?”
She remembered her conversation with Gertrude. Sometimes I wish I could have someone else’s life—just for a while. I wonder what it would feel like just to be away from the rubble of broken dreams. Well now she knew and she longed for home. Although she tried to blink it back, an errant tear made its way down her cheek. She dashed it away. “I just want to be Maggie.” As soon as she had uttered the words, she lost all ability to hold back her tears.
Logan crossed the room, taking her in his arms, “Wheesht lass. I didn’t mean to make ye cry. I’m sorry.”
His arms felt so good, so comforting. How long had it been? She had been the strong one for so many years now, she had forgotten how good it felt to lean on someone else occasionally. When she had regained control, she stepped back and wiped her face. “I’m sorry, I’m all right now.”
He kept his hands on her shoulders but cocked his head to look at her. “Ye’re right. Ye aren’t Margaret. I don’t understand how a bump on the head could do this, but ye aren’t the same lass who arrived three weeks ago, determined to hate everyone and everything here.” He guided her back to the chair and put a goblet of wine in her hand.
She took a sip. “So, ye’ll tell my da about the accident and send me home?”
He shook his head. “Nay, I won’t.”
“But, I’m not the lass ye agreed to marry. That surely is reason enough to break the betrothal.”
“It’s true, ye aren’t the lass I agreed to marry but frankly, I am beginning to like ye considerably more. I know ye don’t remember all of this, but I cannot break the betrothal. Relations between the Carrs and the Grants have never been ideal, but neither have there been open hostilities. Breaking our betrothal would change that. Yer da would see it as a grave insult. Other clans would see it the same way.”
“But I would explain—”
“Nay, there is no suitable explanation. The only thing worse than breaking the betrothal would have been if ye had actually been killed in the accident. That’s why I was so angry with ye. If something that terrible had happened, if ye had died in my care after only a few weeks, it would have started a blood feud.”
“But I caused the accident myself.”
Logan snorted. “Yer father would be unlikely to believe that. But even if he did, he would still blame me for not exerting greater control in preventing ye from harming yerself.”
Maggie was incredulous. “So if something happened to me, if I…died…ye would be blamed regardless of the fault?”
“Regardless of the fault? Ye’re in my care, the fault would be mine.”
The
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