by Bree Wolf
The shock of her return to London.
The revelation of her mother’s lie.
And now their next goodbye.
“I love you,” Nathan whispered against her mouth, his lips brushing against hers as they moved. “I know I never told you, but I need you to know.” His hand slid into her hair, holding her to him as his head rose but a fraction, his blue eyes looking down into hers. “You’ve always held my heart, and you always will. Neither time nor distance will ever change that.”
His words pierced Maggie’s heart, and her fingers curled into the fabric of his jacket, holding on in a desperate attempt to show him that their farewell was not her choice. “I would stay with ye if I could,” she told him, her voice trembling. “I never wanted to leave ye, not then and not now, but Fate doesna seem to be on our side.” She trailed her fingertips over the side of his face. “Perhaps one day.”
“Perhaps one day,” Nathan echoed her words once again, his eyes fixed on hers, holding on. Then he slowly lowered his head, his gaze never leaving hers until his lips brushed against hers.
He kissed her gently, without haste, as though this was merely the first of an endless armada of kisses. As though they had their whole life ahead of them, shared with each other. As though this was only the beginning, not the end.
“I’ll always remember this,” Maggie whispered before she threw herself into his arms, burying her face in the folds of his jacket. “I’ll never forget.”
Nathan’s arms closed over her, holding her to him as though in an iron vice, but Maggie did not mind. All her life she’d wondered if he’d ever cared for her the way she’d always cared for him.
Now, she knew.
Nathan loved her as fiercely as she loved him. He’d never forgotten her. He’d never forgotten a single thing about her. He still knew how to read her face. He still saw the signs that betrayed her frayed nerves. He still understood her words even when she couldn’t say them.
His hands brushed over her back. She felt one arm slung around her waist, then a hand move up to cup her shoulder, brush along her neck. She felt his fingers in her hair and heard the soft sounds of his breath tickling her ear.
Maggie could have remained like this forever. “I needa go,” she whispered, knowing that there was nothing to be done.
Instantly his arms tensed, wrapping her tighter in his embrace. “I cannot let you go.” Anguish sounded in his voice. “I only just got you back.”
“It’ll not be forever,” Maggie whispered, praying that she had not just lied to him…and to herself. Gently, she moved out of his embrace, urging him to release her. Her hands once more slid to his chest, and she could feel his heart race beneath her fingertips. “It’ll not be forever.”
Tears stood in his eyes as he looked down at her, his hands still on her waist, a last connection. “I’ll hold you to that.” He grasped her chin and brought her face closer to his. “I’ll not wait another ten years. Do you hear me? That’s a promise.”
Maggie nodded. “Aye, a promise.” Then she moved her hand to his and gently pushed him to release his hold on her. “I’ll see ye soon,” she whispered when she stepped back and his hands fell from her waist.
The last connection severed.
“Soon,” Nathan echoed as his arms swung back to his sides. Still, he did not step back. He remained where he was, and so it was Maggie who forced her feet to move.
Closer to the door.
Step by step.
Their eyes locked, unblinking.
“Goodbye, Nathan,” she whispered as tears once more ran freely down her face. “Until we see each other again.” Then she spun on her heel and fled the room, unable to prolong this torture a moment longer.
At least when they’d said goodbye ten years ago, she had not known how long it would be until she’d see him again. How long would it be this time?
Stepping out into the warm air of a brilliant summer day, Maggie quickly dried her tears, then rushed to enter her carriage before any curious onlookers could see her puffy eyes or reddened nose.
Inside, she broke down, her arms clutching her middle as heaving sobs tore from her throat. Only yesterday she’d found Nathan again and, today, she had to give him up.
Was this the story of her life?
Chapter Twenty-Nine
A Little Daisy
A sennight passed and still Maggie found herself thinking of Nathan at every waking moment. She dreamed of him at night and, whenever her thoughts were not occupied with her children, it was Nathan’s face that drifted before her eyes. It was his voice that echoed in her ears and his gentle touch she could almost feel.
And then a letter arrived.
“A letter?” Maggie frowned at her sister-in-law as she took the envelope her brother’s butler held out to her on a silver platter. “For me?” Who on earth would write to her? After all, she’d not socialised with anyone since returning to London. A few polite words exchanged here and there at the occasional ball would not inspire any of the conniving harpies of English upper society to write to her. And Claudia would not write for they saw each other with their children at least twice a week.
“You’ll never know unless you open it,” Cecilia chuckled as Maggie kept staring at the envelope, her eyes tracing over the simple sketch of a flower drawn upon the front. “There’s no name,” she mumbled, then looked up at her brother’s butler. “How do ye know ‘tis for me?”
The man cleared his throat. “It was delivered for a Mrs. MacDrummond.”
“By whom?”
“An errand boy.”
“Did ye know him?” she asked, unable to shake that sense of familiarity she felt when looking upon the small flower.
“I’m afraid not,” the man replied. “Do you wish for me to make some inquiries?”
Maggie shook her head. “No, it’ll be fine.”
With a slight bow, the butler left and Cecilia came to sit beside Maggie on the settee, her pale eyes curious. “Is there no seal?”
Maggie turned it over. “There is, but…” She squinted at the soft markings in the wax. “It doesn’t look like an emblem. It looks like…”
“Letters,” Cecilia mumbled as she looked closer. “What does that say? M.Y. Are those initials?”
“There’re more.” Maggie’s eyes traced over the soft indentations, moving from the first line to the second. “These seem to have been scratched in when the wax had already hardened somewhat. There’s an L, O, R…” Her jaw dropped when her mind finally managed to put all the pieces together. “My lord,” Maggie whispered. “‘Tis from Nathan.”
“What?” Cecilia exclaimed, looking closer. “How do you know?”
Maggie felt her heart beat wildly in her chest. “He carved my lord into the wax,” she explained as her hands began to shake. “I used to call him that when we were…” She swallowed and met Cecilia’s gaze. “Whenever he was being particularly mule-headed.” She turned the letter in her hand. “And this…is a daisy. It’s a daisy.” Her eyes rose to look at Cecilia, and Maggie knew that her sister-in-law understood without another word.
“Open it,” Cecilia urged her. “If the man goes to such length to send you a letter, he must have something important to say.”
Maggie’s hands were still trembling when she broke the seal and unfolded the single piece of parchment, her eyes dropping to the paper and Nathan’s familiar scrawl.
My dearest Daisy,
Do not be angry with me, but you did say we could write to each other. Unfortunately, it took me a sennight to realise that you never specified the circumstances under which such correspondence would be acceptable. Therefore, I decided that a little presumptuousness never hurt anyone.
Maggie couldn’t help but laugh for, in her mind’s eye, she could picture Nathan’s brilliant blue eyes sparking with mischief as they had so often when they’d been young. She remembered well the many notes he’d smuggled into her chamber. One had even been tied to a small rock, which he’d then tossed t
hrough her open window. Unfortunately, though, it had hit the mirror upon her vanity, forcing Maggie to conjure one of the most fanciful excuses of her life; it had involved a wild bee, her ferocious cat Stripes and a rather unfortunate stumble as well as an even more unfortunate landing.
Of course, neither her mother nor her father had believed her.
But at least, they’d had the decency to pretend otherwise.
Do you remember the chess board my father gave me before he passed? After that summer (Maggie knew precisely which summer he meant), I had it packed up and stored in the attic. Call me wistful, but I’ve recently dared to venture up there and gone through a stack of old items I’d thought useless. Among them, I found said chess board, the field of your greatest defeats and my greatest victories.
“In yer dreams,” Maggie chuckled, remembering the finely carved pieces.
Of course, I would understand if you’d prefer not to risk renewed defeat, but I thought I’d ask nonetheless. Fancy a game? On paper only, of course. I’ll even grant you first choice. White or black? As I recall, you always liked to forge ahead. If that is still the case, then write back and tell me your first move. I’ll then reciprocate in kind (I assume Robert must have an old chess board somewhere. Not that he ever had any talent for it!).
May the most daring soul win.
Yours always,
My lord
For a long moment, Maggie simply stared at the parchment in her hand. Joy pulsed through her veins, easily silencing the small whisper of caution that echoed in her head. Aye, writing would only increase her longing for him, but could her heart truly long for him more than it already did?
“You look happy,” Cecilia commented, a soft glow in her eyes as she looked at Maggie. “I assume he chose his words wisely.”
Maggie laughed, then handed Cecilia the letter to read. “Oh, how darling!” her sister-in-law exclaimed once she’d read it. “I’ll run and fetch Robert’s board.” She paused with a hand on the door handle. “You’ll write to him, will you not?”
Inhaling a deep breath, Maggie smiled. “Aye, I’ll write to him.”
And she did.
With the board set up in the drawing room, Maggie delighted at the thought of exchanging a letter with Nathan every now and then. Perhaps, if Nathan still played as poorly as he had before, they’d even be able to finish a game before their return to Scotland.
Nathan, however, had other plans.
Not half an hour after she’d sent off her response to him, an answer arrived.
I must warn you that moving your knight to F3 was very predictable. You’ve always been bold, which makes me wonder if it’s simply your daring spirit that has urged you to choose this move or if your skill has improved, bolstering your confidence. Well, I’ve decided to err on the side of caution. Pawn to B5.
Maggie chuckled at Nathan’s reply and moved the black pawn accordingly. Then she picked up the quill she’d set beside the board and thought about her response. The young boy who’d been charged with delivering their letters stood waiting patiently by the door, his wide eyes curiously looking at the way her other hand hovered over the board.
Is there a reason you’re freeing the path for your bishop? Are you simply pretending to be clueless? Or is there a rather devious mind at work here? Perhaps I should reciprocate in kind. Pawn to G4.
And once again, the boy darted off.
Most of the afternoon passed in this delightful back and forth that Maggie failed to notice Blair slip into the room. “What are ye doing, Mother?” she asked, coming to stand beside her, her eyes sweeping over the chess pieces.
Maggie flinched and her hand flew to her chest. “Oh, mo chridhe, ye gave me a fright! I didna even hear ye come in.”
Blair grinned, her eyes aglow. “Ye look happy.”
Maggie swallowed, unable to suppress the hint of guilt she could not help but feel. “I…I suppose I am.”
“‘Tis good,” Blair replied, and her gaze once more moved over the pieces. “Ye’re not playing with yerself, are ye?”
Holding her daughter’s gaze, Maggie shook her head. “No, I’m not. I’m playing…with an old friend.” It was not a lie, but at the same time, Maggie needed to make a distinction here. She was not moving ahead with Nathan without her children’s consent; however, she was entitled to speak to an old friend, was she not?
Blair nodded knowingly. “He must be a verra good friend for he’s letting ye win.”
“What?” Maggie exclaimed, and her gaze snapped back to the board. “How?”
Grinning, Blair shook her head. “That I canna say for ‘twould be cheating.” Then she spun on her heel and skipped out of the room, another cheerful melody drifting from her lips.
Frowning, Maggie surveyed the board, her eyes drifting from piece to piece, trying to understand what Blair had seen. Or had her daughter simply seen something in a dream? Had it nothing to do with the game itself?
Blair insists you’re letting me win although I admit I cannot see how this is possible. Perhaps your skill truly has improved, and you were simply lulling me into a false sense of security. I wish I could see your face for you were never able to lie without it being written all over your face.
Ten minutes later, Nathan’s answer arrived.
I’ve decided to consider my inability to lie to you convincingly a compliment.
I admit I also wish I could see your face…for countless reasons I do not dare name.
Maggie’s heart beat wildly in her chest and soon she found herself waiting by the door, eager to read Nathan’s next little note. Somewhere in a far corner of her mind, she knew that their communication had gone beyond the friendly banter of old friends. Indeed, she felt like a young girl again, being courted by the man of her dreams. If her mother had not interfered, would Nathan have courted her in such a manner upon her return? Would he have been attentive and charming and so devilishly tempting?
The sun was already setting when Maggie returned to her chamber after supper. She’d barely heard a word spoken all evening, her thoughts elsewhere. And when another note had arrived in the middle of supper, Maggie had barely been able to answer her brother’s inquiry with a straight face. “Oh, ‘tis merely an old friend.” Her brother’s eyes had narrowed at her evasive words, and so Maggie had forged ahead when he’d seemed on the verge of asking for further details. “We enjoy the occasional game of chess.”
“Chess?” Robert had echoed, his gaze distant as he’d no doubt rummaged through his mind for a name and a face to go with that rather limited description. A moment later, however, his gaze had widened, seeking hers with a new intensity. “Chess, you say? I assume you speak of that friend of ours who’s never been particularly good at it?”
Maggie suppressed a giggle. “Ye’d be right to assume that.”
Cecilia had chuckled then, unable to hide her own amusement. However, when the children’s frowning faces had turned to her, she’d rushed to change the subject. “What about the Hawthorne ball tomorrow night? Will you accompany us?” An encouraging smile came to her face as she met Maggie’s eyes across the table. “I do believe it would do you good to get out of the house and…see some other faces every once in a while.”
Maggie sighed and nodded. She’d never cared for balls, but Cecilia had become a dear friend during her stay here in London that Maggie could not bring herself to disappoint her.
I’m afraid it is time to bid you a good night. To my great shame, I must admit that I’m fairly exhausted and could do with a bit of sleep as Cecilia insists I accompany them to the Hawthorne ball tomorrow.
Thank you for this wonderful day. I’d forgotten how simple our friendship had once been.
Chapter Thirty
A Summer’s Day
Nathan knew he was breaking the rules.
After all, they’d agreed to write to one another. Nothing more. This, however, was more. Much more. Would Maggie be angry with him? He’d feared the same when he’d written that first letter to
her, worried that she’d rebuke him.
But she hadn’t.
And the day before had been one of the best ones of his life…and he’d never even laid eyes on her. Still, her spirit had lurked beneath those few lines they’d exchanged over the course of the day, whispering of her humour, her sharp mind and her kindness. It had called to him. He’d felt a tug or perhaps a pull as though something was urging him to seek her out.
And he could not deny himself to see her.
Standing on the edge of the ballroom, Nathan let his gaze sweep Lord Hawthorne’s guests. So far, Maggie and her family had not yet arrived, and Nathan found himself shifting from one foot onto the other with a nervous energy that was utterly unfamiliar to him. He felt uncertain, tense, even a little afraid, and yet, his heart beat eagerly and he felt an odd, but delightful hum in his bones.
And then he saw her.
With her fiery-red hair, she was like a beacon in the night.
Walking on her brother’s other arm, Maggie gazed around the assembled guests, her lovely face a bit tense until she spotted someone who Nathan presumed to be a friend. The woman walked on the arm of the man he’d seen Maggie dance with the first night he’d spotted her. The man he’d mistakenly thought her husband.
Renewed relief swept through Nathan at the memory.
For a precious moment, he simply watched her as she spoke to her friends, to her brother and his wife. Her deep blue eyes shone with laughter and warmth, and he could tell she felt at ease in their company. Occasionally, she would reach up and tug a stray curl back behind her ear. He watched her lips move with utter fascination and, when she placed a hand on that dark-haired man’s arm and leaned in to whisper something in his ear, Nathan felt the sudden urge to strangle the man here and now.
