by Bree Wolf
Maggie could only hope so for she did not wish to believe that her mother had callously accepted her daughter’s heartbreak without at least the hope that one day Maggie would love again.
Still, nothing could lessen the blow of her mother’s betrayal. Oh, what a fool she had been! If only she’d insisted on returning to London and speaking to Nathan!
But her mother had argued against it. She’d been worried about what it might have done to Maggie’s heart to see him with his betrothed, to hear him say that he’d never loved her.
Poppycock! Her mother had been afraid her lies would be revealed; nothing else!
“We could’ve had a life together,” Maggie whispered into the stillness of the room. “We could’ve been happy together. We could’ve had children. We could’ve−”
Closing her eyes, Maggie groaned in pain, when a new, awful, heart-shattering thought found her.
If her mother had not deceived her, Blair and Niall would never have been born. How could Maggie contemplate a life without her children? How could she regret a path that had led her to them?
In that moment, Maggie’s heart ripped in half for she wanted it all. She wanted Nathan and her children. However, they both belonged to two different lives, and she simply could not have it all.
For the past ten years, Maggie had been lugging around a cartload of guilt for not being able to love Ian. She remembered as clear as day how much it had hurt him, how much he had tried to win her heart and how he had kept trying to be a better man for her. He’d done everything he could’ve, and it had only added to Maggie’s guilt because nothing he’d done had changed anything.
After all Ian had suffered, after the way she’d made him suffer, what right did she have to long for another? At the very least, should she not offer her own suffering in order to even out his?
To be fair.
To even the burden.
To carry her due.
A soft, metallic squeak drifted to Maggie’s ears before she felt the echo of light footfalls against her ear, still lying pressed to the floor. She could not see the door nor who had entered, but Maggie knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that it was Blair.
Her little girl always knew when her mother’s heart ached, and Blair never not followed her own kind heart in aid of another.
Still staring straight ahead, Maggie saw her daughter’s little feet appear in her line of vision before the girl lowered herself to the ground and sat cross-legged in front of her. Maggie knew she ought to rise, to dry her tears and put on a smile for her child.
But she couldn’t.
And Blair−as young as she was−was the last person to be fooled by it.
In this moment more than ever, Maggie wished she possessed her daughter’s gentle wisdom. Perhaps then she wouldn’t have been led astray.
A small, warm hand settled on Maggie’s shoulder, rubbing gently before moving to brush loose strands that had fallen in her face behind her ear. Maggie hadn’t even noticed. “Dunna think too much,” Blair counselled in that knowing voice of hers. “Adults often do that, but it doesn’t help. It only causes more pain.”
That, Maggie could attest to. Her whole body ached. Her limbs felt heavy, impossible to move, and each breath was like a stab in her chest. Would it ever pass?
Blair’s little hand continued to brush up and down Maggie’s arm, and the soft, innocent touch felt utterly soothing that Maggie felt reminded of her mother. Of how she’d held her in her arms when Maggie had been a child and then again later when she’d been grown. When she’d thought Nathan lost to her. Her mother had been there, and her whispered reassurances had made Maggie believe that all would be well.
Mothers had that kind of power. As long as they were near, as long as they said all would be well, their children believed it would be so.
“I’ve seen Father in my dreams,” Blair whispered in a slight sing-song tone as though she were not speaking of the beloved father she’d lost, but of a wonderful dream that felt only too real. “He will be fine. He doesna know it yet, but he will.” A slight chuckle left her lips. “The big wolf now watches out for him.”
Maggie could not grasp what it was her daughter was trying to say. After all, Ian was dead and so was the wolf. They’d tumbled off a cliff together. But perhaps in Blair’s mind, Ian still lived on. That was the power of children, their minds not focused on mere facts alone, their imagination free and ready to shield them whenever the need arose.
Someday, Blair would need to face the truth, but that day was not today. Today, she was still a child, and Maggie was grateful that her daughter had found a way to smile again. To be happy and find the strength to see the beauty in life.
Maggie no longer knew how.
“Dunna feel bad,” Blair urged, and Maggie felt the tips of her daughter’s little fingers run along her temple. “Father will be fine, and ye will be as well.” Her daughter shifted where she sat as though she’d turned to look over her shoulder toward the door. “That man is still downstairs. He’s speaking to Uncle Robert.” Her hand settled on Maggie’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “I think ye should go and see him, and dunna be afraid. I promise all will be well.” Then Blair rose to her feet and tiptoed out of the chamber and, for a moment, Maggie wondered if she’d merely imagined her daughter’s presence.
I promise all will be well.
A soft smile touched Maggie’s lips as she allowed herself to soak up her daughter’s simple words. They warmed her from the inside out and chased away the chill that had held her in its grip. Almost desperately, Maggie wanted to believe that Blair was right, that she somehow knew all would turn out well.
And perhaps she did.
After all, Blair had always possessed wisdom beyond her years. Perhaps Maggie ought to simply trust her daughter. What did she have to lose? Her own decisions had brought her to the brink of insanity, torn between regret and relief, guilt and joy. Perhaps she ought to look at life as her daughter did.
Simple.
Straightforward.
Without fear.
Where could be the harm in that?
Chapter Seventeen
A Blasted Letter
Pacing the drawing room, Nathan glanced from the closed door to the gaping hole in the window and then down at his bandaged hand before beginning the circle anew. He felt restless, energy humming in his veins, and he feared that if he did not keep himself occupied, another window would yield to his frustration. Was today a good day? Or a bad one?
Nathan was torn.
A lot had happened, and yet, a lot remained unclear. There was a chance, and a chance meant hope, and hope could be disappointed. Nathan had experienced it before and a part of him shied away from the mere thought of going through it again.
However, there was that small voice deep inside, that small voice he hadn’t heard in years, that small voice that whispered, All will be well.
After losing Maggie, Nathan had done his utmost to silence that voice, to stomp it into the ground, to toss it into a black hole. It had taunted him, mocked him, ridiculed him, and he had been defenceless. Over time, however, it had grown quieter until it had finally given up and disappeared.
Now, it had returned and, with each step Nathan took, it grew louder, daring him to listen.
To believe.
To hope.
Nathan flinched when he rubbed his hands over his face and the pressure sent a stab of pain through his flesh. A muttered curse flew from his lips as he stared down at the bandage and the small stain of blood that began to show.
“Are ye all right?”
At the sound of her voice, Nathan’s head snapped up.
Maggie stood in the door, her eyes puffy and red-rimmed, her cheeks pale and her fiery red hair dishevelled. Her dress was wrinkled beyond repair, and he could still see the glistening tracks her tears had left upon her cheeks. Her eyes were guarded, and yet, there was a spark there. A spark of the girl he’d known long ago as though she too had dared to reach
out her hand toward something that frightened her because she wanted it with all her heart.
“I had…eh…” Nathan gestured to the window at his back without moving his gaze from her. “I had a bit of an accident.”
Her eyes touched upon the window and widened ever so slightly when she saw the gaping hole. Then her gaze snapped back to him as she hastily closed the door before crossing the room to his side. “Ye cut yerself? Is it bad?”
Nathan sucked in a sharp breath when her hands touched his, turning his bandaged hand from side to side before she looked up at him. Swallowing, he shook his head, mesmerised by the deep concern in her eyes. “It’s not bad,” he whispered. “I hardly feel it.”
What he did feel in that moment was the sheer joy of being near her. Of having those soulful blue eyes looking up into his. Of feeling the warmth of her touch. Of knowing that she cared.
And she did care, didn’t she?
That thought was his undoing and, all of a sudden, that quiet little voice turned into a deafening shout, All will be well. It had to be. He couldn’t bear it if it didn’t.
Becoming aware of the way he was looking at her, Maggie swallowed, then hastily removed her hands from his before taking a step backwards. Her hands began to tremble and she clasped them together as she always did.
Some things truly did not change.
“Are you all right?” Nathan asked, wishing he could simply pull her into his arms. Still, it was too late for that or perhaps too soon. The day before they’d met as strangers, unaware of the life they’d each lived since they’d last seen one another. Now, however, that gap had been filled−at least the fundamentals−, and yet, a decade apart stood between them. How were they to begin?
“I’m fine,” Maggie whispered, then shrugged. “I dunno what that means any longer.” Her gaze rose to meet his, but only in passing. Then she turned away, putting more distance between them. “I came to apologise.” Still, she didn’t look at him. “I didna know.”
Watching her flit around the room, Nathan could not help but savour the moment. It had been too long. “What do you mean?”
Again, her gaze darted to his…before it once more moved away. “That my mother lied to me. That ye didna marry. That ye−” She paused, and her eyes snapped to his, holding on this time. “Ye truly didna marry, did ye? Not in all those years?”
Slowly, Nathan shook his head and he could see the way she was watching him, the way his answer brought her pain as well as joy. If it had been the other way around, he too would have felt the same: joy to know that she’d been steadfast in her affection for him and pain to have wasted a life without her.
In fact, Nathan did feel the same. A part of him had felt like that ever since she’d returned his kiss at the ball.
Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes, and her arms rose to wrap around herself. “I’ve lived a lie,” she whispered, her voice choked and her eyes distant. “I still canna believe it.”
After everything that had happened, now more than ever, they needed to be honest and open with one another and so Nathan reluctantly asked, “What happened?” He tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “What happened after you left for Scotland?”
Maggie’s gaze met his and, as she blinked, a tear spilled over and rolled down her cheek. She pressed her lips into a thin line as she fought those that threatened to follow. Then she shrugged helplessly and wiped at the wetness the tear had left behind. “All was well.” Her voice broke, and he could see her jaw tremble as she turned away and once more began to pace, taking up the path he had abandoned only moments ago. “My mother showed us around, introduced us. We were welcomed so kindly that I…I loved Scotland from the first moment I laid eyes on it. I finally understood the yearning she’d always spoken of. I did.” She stopped, and her eyes met his. “And then she found me up on the walkway. She said she’d received a letter from Lady Barkley.”
Nathan held her gaze, knowing exactly what Lady Barkley had supposedly written in that letter. “Who was I supposed to have married?” he asked, unable to keep his anger from showing in his voice.
A letter! All it had taken had been a letter! A blasted letter!
Maggie shook her head. “My mother didna say, and I…I didna ask. I couldna bring myself to.” Her hands tightened on her arms, and she hugged herself more fiercely. “I wanted to return home. I wanted to speak to ye, but…but my mother said ye’d made yer choice. She said it would only hurt me to see ye…with yer bride.” Her eyes blinked frantically now as tears poured down her cheeks.
Her pain echoed in Nathan’s chest, mingling with his own, and he all but jerked forward, desperate to comfort her. He knew he ought not, and she flinched when he started toward her, her reaction pulling him to an abrupt halt. “I’m sorry,” Nathan mumbled. “I simply…” His voice trailed off, and he could see that she understood.
There was that desperate longing for one another, and yet, a decade of pain stood between them.
Nathan drew in a slow breath, willing the wildly beating heart in his chest to calm. Unfortunately, it refused to listen. “What about…the man you married?” he asked with clenched teeth. “Was he unkind to you?” Ever since Robert had told him that Maggie had never come to love her husband, Nathan had worried that perhaps she’d been persuaded to marry a man of less than honourable character. A man not quite unlike himself in recent years! The thought of what she might have endured turned his stomach.
Her feet stilled, and she looked at him with wide eyes. “No, he wasna unkind. He was…he was the kindest, sweetest, gentlest man I’ve ever known.” Fresh tears stood in her eyes as she looked at him. “But he…he wasna ye.” A loud sob tore from her throat, and she retreated farther into herself, the sinews on her hands standing out white as she hugged herself ever tighter.
Unable not to, Nathan moved toward her. His hands rose and reached for her, but then retreated. He saw her pain and felt his own. His heart had stilled at the thought of the decent man Maggie had spoken of, for deep down Nathan had been certain that the only reason her heart had remained his all these years was that the man she’d married had been even more lacking in character than him. Still, by her own words, her husband had been all she had ever wanted, and yet, she hadn’t been able to love him.
Nathan felt awful admitting that a devilish part of him delighted in that fact.
“Ian was life itself,” Maggie whispered, her gaze distant, drawn to memories of long ago. “He was always cheerful and his smile could melt yer heart.” Her eyes returned to his, and Nathan fought the urge to run from the room as jealousy pumped through his veins as never before. “He made me laugh and smile and he took my hand and promised to always be by my side.” A sad smile touched her lips. “He was so determined, so certain that he could win my heart, and I…I wanted to believe him. I wanted him to be right. I wanted him to succeed.” Her gaze cleared then, and she took a step toward him as her eyes narrowed in frustration. “Why could I not love him?” she all but snarled as her feet carried her to him, her eyes ablaze as though she wished to attack him. “He was perfect. He woulda been good for me. Why could I not love him?”
Fuelled by her anger, her frustration, her disappointment, Nathan all but glared down at her. “Because you loved me,” he stated almost triumphantly. Never had they spoken of how they’d felt about one another. There’d been lingering looks, the occasional touch that had lasted longer than would have been considered appropriate and then there had been that kiss.
That one kiss.
However, Nathan had never told her that he loved her; neither had she.
And then life had separated them.
“Aye,” Maggie conceded, the frustration and loss of a decade still burning in her eyes. “I loved ye, ye and no one else.” Her admission sounded like an accusation and, in the next moment, her arms unfurled and she shoved him, almost sending him stumbling backwards.
But Nathan held his ground, his eyes fixed on hers, his blood pumping with a speed he’
d never known. “I loved you as well,” he snarled as they stood head to head. “I was planning to ask for your hand the moment you returned from Scotland.” He shook his head, his jaw clenched as they relived the most crushing moments of their lives. “Why didn’t you talk to me? Why didn’t you at least write a letter? You said nothing! You didn’t even give me a chance! Did you honestly think I’d abandon you in a heartbeat? That I didn’t care? That I could ever marry another?”
His breath came fast, but so did hers. Her jaw trembled, but her eyes were on fire. “Give me one reason why I shouldna have believed it?” Again, she shoved him and, again, he held his ground. “Ye never said a word! Ye never did anything−”
“I kissed you!” Nathan growled. He felt his hands tremble with the need to reach for her, to feel her, but he did not dare for whenever he moved closer, she pulled away.
Maggie stilled, the look on her face suddenly vulnerable. “Aye, ye kissed me…but then ye let me go.”
“I thought you’d come back!” Nathan snapped before he felt himself soften. Her eyes held such longing, such pain and, yet…
One moment, she seemed to be on the verge of throwing herself into his arms and, in the next, she would jerk back as if burnt.
“I thought you’d come back,” Nathan repeated gently before his hand reached to cup her cheek, but then stilled in mid-air. “I never for a second thought…” He shook his head, then withdrew his hand.
Blinking back tears, Maggie nodded. “Neither did I. I had…I had such hopes.” Her hands began to tremble again, but she resisted the urge to wrap them around herself once more. “I had such hopes…and then the letter arrived and all was lost.”
A letter! All it had taken had been a letter! A blasted letter!
“I pictured ye wedded to another,” she wept, “and it broke my heart.” Another sob tore from her throat before she suddenly stilled. Her eyes blinked and then moved to meet his. “Who was that woman? The one ye were with in the gardens?”
