The Devil's Heart The Chattan Curse

Chapter Thirteen


Margaret focused on keeping herself warm and on examining the way the boards of the boat were fitted together. She’d not considered boat construction before. With Heath Macnachtan climbing into the boat and pretending not to glare at her, now was a good time to focus absolutely on anything but him.

Once again, her passionate nature had brought her trouble.

She’d believed that after Mark’s betrayal she would have had a better head on her shoulders. And she had. For years she had.

Then last night, she’d tossed all common sense aside. She’d compromised herself, her own vows that she’d made, her own determined will. He had only to touch her for her to tumble into his arms like a randy milkmaid.

And she’d liked it. Dear sweet Lord, she had liked it very much.

With Mark, there had been an excitement about having a secret love . . . but at the time, she’d been desperate to have someone, anyone love her.

The first time he’d kissed her, she’d been shocked, but she’d wanted more. In truth, when he had taken her virginity, it had surprised her. It was all over almost before it had begun, and all she’d remembered was that it had been messy and rather silly. She’d never felt with him what she did in Heath Macnachtan’s arms.

She’d given herself completely to Heath and he had used her well.

Perhaps the difference was one of age? Mark had been only a few years older than her fifteen-year-old self.

Or perhaps the difference was that her feelings for the laird of the Macnachtan were stronger and far more compelling. She seemed aware of his every movement, his every gesture. She had a sense of being able to understand what he thought and felt.

Margaret also admired him. She’d not met another man, other than her brother Neal, who commanded her respect. Heath also had a bit of Harry’s daring in him, and certainly that intrigued her.

She knew Heath was confused by her leaving the ruins without him. She could almost hear the questions in his mind, questions that she would not answer.

What had happened last night must not be repeated. She was certain of that. It had been too overwhelming. All-consuming. Even now she wanted to climb the distance of the boat and wrap her arms around him. She must exercise more control.

It also didn’t help matters that the men in the boat might pay lip service to the idea that she and Heath had spent the night apart, but they didn’t believe it. She could tell in the sidelong looks sent her direction and the smug smiles they attempted to hide. They were men, and men always jumped to conclusions.

Now the boat had no trouble gliding across the calm, gray lake. It hit the shore with a bump. The lads jumped out and pulled the boat onto dry land where Laren, Anice and Lady Macnachtan waited.

Heath stood with his back to Margaret, but she knew he was planning to help her out of the boat. He nodded for Rowlly and Gibson to go ahead of him. His sisters were already asking him questions.

Margaret barely heard what they were saying. Instead, she braced herself, not yet ready to be close to him.

He held out a hand. “My lady.” There was a distance in his voice. He was angry with her silence. Good. She wanted him angry.

She stood. She could ignore the hand he offered, but then that would raise more questions and she wanted matters between them as simple as possible. They’d already complicated them enough last night. She could let him help her. All she had to do was detach her thoughts from her actions. Margaret had a lifetime of practice at that.

She placed her bare hand in his. His fingers, long, competent, callused, closed over hers, and she wanted to melt into his arms. She wanted to tear off his clothes and press herself against his warm skin.

But she didn’t show it. She knew how to set her expression just the right way so that she appeared pleasant and disinterested.

“We are so relieved you are safe,” Laren’s voice said in greeting, words echoed by the others. They had thought to pack warm clothes. Mrs. Gibson let Margaret and then Heath use the cottage to change.

And then they were on their way back to Marybone.

Laren and Anice seemed determined to maintain a good-natured chatter but Margaret knew they sensed the tension between her and Heath.

They had other questions as well. While she was changing, she’d overheard someone mention her claim of seeing a cat before she’d jumped into the water. She was certain everyone doubted her sanity.

She noticed that Heath didn’t have much to say. Nor did he speak of finding the graves. She kept the information to herself as well. In fact, she didn’t know what she could do with the knowledge of the two gravestones. She didn’t understand why Owl had led her to them.

Lady Macnachtan brought her horse up beside Margaret’s. “Are you all right?” she asked in a low voice full of concern.

“I’m fine,” Margaret answered, trying to put some emotion in her tone to sound convincing.

“That was quite an ordeal.”

“Yes, it was,” Margaret could agree.

“What I fear is that you were taken advantage of?” She made her suggestion sound like a question.

Heat rushed to Margaret’s cheeks. She dared not speak, afraid of what she would reveal to this kind woman.

“You needn’t worry about gossip or rumors. We protect our own and our friends,” Lady Macnachtan assured her.

“Thank you,” Margaret said with meaning. It was good to have an ally.

Lady Macnachtan lowered her voice even more. “In truth, I’m embarrassed. I fear you have been manipulated into this position.”

Margaret frowned. “What do you mean?”

Lady Macnachtan looked to the others. Anice and Rowlly were arguing with Laren as their referee. Heath rode ahead of everyone, his back ramrod straight.

She leaned toward Margaret. “Of course, you know their purpose is for you to marry Heath. That’s all the girls can talk about. The family is in deep debt. They saw your arrival here as a sign of Providence. Now that you have been alone overnight with Heath, Anice and Laren have been planning your wedding.”

Margaret hadn’t noticed such scheming from the Macnachtan sisters. Instead, her instincts warned her that if there was any scheming happening, it was from Heath’s sister-in-marriage, and she didn’t understand why. She could imagine no motive other than jealousy. “Laird Macnachtan did not arrange to have me alone on the island overnight with him. It was a complete accident of fate. I can assure you of that.”

“Then it was very lucky happenstance,” Lady Macnachtan said. “And, please, you must call me Dara if we are to be sisters by marriage. No formalities around family.”

“No one has spoken of marriage,” Margaret returned.

“Not yet. They will. Although,” Dara continued, her tone changing thoughtfully, “I wouldn’t hold you to blame if you resisted these mercenary plans of theirs. It must be uncomfortable to have everyone consider marrying you only for your money. It would make me feel like a piece of property to be bought and sold in such a manner.”

This woman owed everything she was to the Macnachtans. Perhaps she wanted Heath and considered Margaret a threat?

“It’s my lot in life,” Margaret commented. “I’m accustomed to marriage schemes.”

“Ah, yes, as an heiress.” Dara considered the matter a moment and then said, “But know I can be your ally. Turn to me if you find yourself in trouble with their plans, I shall help you.”

“And why would you do that?”

“Perhaps I understand, one woman to another, how it feels to be powerless over our fates. It isn’t right. There should be more justice.”

Margaret now saw Dara in a new light. The woman had experienced few choices in her life, and, of course, she would assume that it would be the same for Margaret.

“Thank you, Dara. That is considerate of you.” Margaret wasn’t certain she meant those words.

“I’m not being considerate. According to Rowlly, you are most fortunate to be alive,” she answered. “We have some responsibility for that. If you do decide to return to London, I shall help you make your escape. Your brother is quite ill, is he not? I would think you would want to be with him.”

She did. Dara knew what argument to use.

“And I would hate to see you forced to do anything against your will,” Dara said. “We, women, are honest in our emotions. Men can be expedient.”

Dara’s suppositions found their mark.

For all her poise, deep inside Margaret was a place that was very vulnerable. Perhaps it came from an excess of pride, as many had suggested.

Or perhaps it was because she was already in love with the laird of the Macnachtan.

In love. Margaret immediately rejected the notion. She had always sworn she didn’t understand what the words meant. Her parents hadn’t been in love. Neal and Harry were both “in love” and she thought they were fools. Love would cost them their lives.

And yet, Heath Macnachtan was not like any other man of her acquaintance.

But what if, like most men who had wooed and courted her, he did see her only as a commodity? What if he had made love—there was that word again!—to her for no other reason than what Dara suggested, that he wanted to trap an heiress in marriage?

What if, like Mark, he was not the man she thought he was?

If that was true, her first instinct should be to run, to take Dara up on her offer of helping her return to London. But there was more at stake now than just her pride. She’d come to Loch Awe to save her brothers. She couldn’t leave until it had all played out. Owl’s presence was a sign there was more to come.

Besides, she had too much sense to fall in love with anyone, let alone the Laird of the Macnachtan.

“I appreciate your offer, but I should wait for Rowan to improve,” Margaret said.

“Such loyalty to a servant is to be commended,” Dara answered. “Although you needn’t worry. We’d see to his welfare until you can make arrangements. You could leave on the morrow.”

“Are you planning on leaving, Lady Margaret?” Anice’s voice said. She’d caught the tail end of the conversation and now circled her horse around to join them.

Dara gave her a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “She plans on leaving eventually. I was explaining that she didn’t have to make her plans in advance. We are happy to help.”

“Yes,” Anice agreed, readily accepting Dara’s explanation. “Of course, we would help.”

Heath heard what they were saying. Anice’s voice always carried. His back stiffened but he didn’t turn around. He seemed to have decided that since she was determined to ignore him, he would ignore her.

Margaret didn’t know how she felt about that.

However, he did set his horse off at a trot, and all the others started trotting with him. It was an effective way to end all discussion and to keep her mind on her riding.

Within the half hour, they reached Marybone.

Heath reined in his horse in front of the house. “Rowlly, see to Admiral.”

“Aye, Heath.”

Heath jumped down, threw the reins toward Rowlly, and started to help the women dismount, beginning with Dara.

Margaret didn’t wait for him but dismounted herself. Her intent was to seek the solace of her room. She needed to think clearly and she realized she couldn’t do so with Heath around.

As she started up the front step, he called out. “Lady Margaret,” he said, “I need a word with you.”

“Perhaps later,” she replied, already moving into the house.

“No, now,” he answered in a tone that brooked no disobedience. “Laren, Lady Margaret and I would appreciate baths. It was a long night. Will you see that Cook heats water, and have the stable lads carry Lady Margaret’s bathwater upstairs for her?”

“Of course,” Laren answered.

Margaret had not obeyed his command to stop. She moved toward the stairs. If she didn’t look back, if she ignored him, he would be forced to leave her alone.

She was wrong.

Just as she climbed the third step, strong hands took hold of her waist. Before she knew what she was about, she found herself physically deposited over Heath’s shoulder.

She didn’t know who was more surprised, she or Laren, Anice, Dara and anyone else a witness to this indignity.

Margaret grabbed hold of his jacket, thinking to pull herself off his shoulder. He hefted the shoulder, repositioning her, and marched down the hall. Before she could think to do anything, he walked into the library, kicked the door shut and set her on her feet.

In the time it took her to regain her balance, his arms came around her and he kissed her.

This kiss was an order, a demand, an insistence. She kissed back, her lips hard to let him know her resistance, her own independence . . . and then softening in her desire.

Yes, even though she was furious at him, she still enjoyed kissing him.

Their kiss came to an end when they were both mellow enough to think.

“One moment,” he whispered, and turned back to the door. He opened it to reveal Laren and Anice eavesdropping. They appeared scandalized to be caught and quickly hurried off. He shut the door. “Sisters,” he said with a shake of his head before leaning back against the door and considering her.

Margaret raised a hand to her kiss-swollen lips. She liked the feeling of them.

“Why didn’t you wait for me back in Innis Craggah before you joined the others?” he asked.

She shifted her weight. “I thought you were gone.”

“No you didn’t,” he said, reading her correctly. “Why didn’t you want to wait for me, Maggie?”

She moved toward the desk, placing it between them.

“Why did you leave?” he pressed.

“Because I didn’t want you to think you owed me anything.” She held her head high. It took some effort.

“You know we must talk about last night,” he said.

“No, we don’t. There is nothing to discuss.” She spoke firmly, but perhaps too quickly. Here was what Dara had predicted and she didn’t want to think that he did not have strong feelings for her beyond lust. “I know what you are going to say. You are going to offer marriage. You are an honorable man. You feel duty-bound to make an honorable offer. You may do so. Know that I will reject it.”

“What?” he said, as if he hadn’t heard her correctly.

“I will reject it,” she assured him. “I know what you must do and you should know I don’t consider you accountable for what happened between us last night.”

“You have churned everything over in that mind of yours, haven’t you?” he said.

“I just know what is coming and I don’t want you to say the words. I don’t want to embarrass you by refusing you.”

He sat on the end of the desk, his expression one of confused disbelief. “Maggie, what are you talking about?”

“You,” she said. “I’m explaining to you that you don’t need to offer to marry me. I will not accept your proposal.”

“Well, that is comforting,” he replied. “Are you also going to share with me why you will refuse this offer I have not made yet?”

She had expected him to be angry. Instead, he sounded more bemused.

And then she realized she really had no reason to withhold the truth. Heath would not betray her trust as others would. If anything, he probably knew her secret.

“I can’t accept your offer,” she said, a tightness forming in her chest. She kept her chin up. “Because you have not compromised me in any form. I am not a virgin.”

There it was. The truth.

She discovered it a bit freeing to confess aloud her shame and she braced herself for his censure.

Instead, he answered, “I’m not, either.”

Margaret frowned. Perhaps he didn’t understand?

“No one expects you to be pure,” she said. “You are male.”

“Oh,” he said as if with sudden understanding. “You were saying that to make me jealous—”

“I was not. Why would saying something like that make you jealous?”

“Well, because I like you,” he replied, as if it should be obvious. “But if you didn’t say it to make me jealous, perhaps then you were saying it so that I didn’t feel alone. I appreciate that,” he announced, coming to his feet as if she’d done something clever. “I was feeling as if I was surrounded by virgins. It is difficult being the only one who is not one. Then again, Dara is not a virgin,” he continued, as if weighing the merits of the matter, “that is, if my brother did his duty. And I certainly hope my sisters are because that is what brothers should think, no?”

His cavalier attitude was not what she had expected. “Are you mocking me?”

“Yes, I am,” he said.

“I don’t like that.”

“I didn’t believe you would,” he answered. His manner grew serious. “However, perhaps it is about time someone took you off your high horse. You aren’t the only one involved in what happened between us last night.”

But Margaret’s temper, the one she tried carefully to control, took off. “I’ll have you know, sir, that I feared this day when I would feel the need to admit my terrible secret. In my mind, the receiver of such news would castigate me before shunning my presence. I didn’t imagine he would think this a jest.”

“Jest? Yes!” he said with a touch of his own displeasure. “I didn’t have you pegged as someone who would walk off as if I meant nothing.”

Her anger evaporated. “I didn’t walk off.”

“Yes, you did,” he said. “When I returned for you, you were gone and your leaving didn’t have anything to do with the boat arriving, did it? This was all some grand scheme in your mind where you were the tragic heroine and I was what? The actor in a small part who is of no importance? Or is this the way you react whenever anyone grows too close to you? We were very close last night, Maggie. And it was important. It was meaningful.”

For second, Margaret was tempted to storm out of the room—but she didn’t . . . because he was right.

What happened between them had been important, but couldn’t he understand what she was trying to explain? And why it should be important to him, the most amazing man she’d ever met?

“You don’t recognize what I am saying to you,” she said. “In London, there are those who, if they ever found out what I’d done, would ruin me. Society has long memories and unforgiving natures. I’ve trusted you with information I’ve not told another soul. But also,” she continued, “you need to know that I’m not special. I’m not important. You must not see me as someone I’m not.”

Heath moved toward her until they stood almost toe to toe. “What I see is a woman who loves her brothers and her family honor enough to battle demons for them,” he said. “I don’t know the story of your deflowering, and I don’t want to,” he hurried to add. “I’m no saint, Maggie. I can be jealous, but I’m also not the king of France. Purity is not my first consideration for a wife. You see what my sons stand to inherit. Marybone is a sad thing right now but it certainly doesn’t call for the sacrifice of a virgin. What I don’t want is for you to act ashamed of what happened between us last night, because I’m not. I have no regrets.”

He took a step closer to her. “Don’t run from me, Maggie. Don’t ever run from me.”

Margaret had spent years carefully constructing walls around her heart. They started to crumble in the face of his honesty.

“I didn’t run. I was helping you. Heath, you don’t understand the burden of the curse. I’m the first female of my line. We don’t know what will happen with me, with my children. They could carry the curse. Of course, you don’t believe in the curse.”

“I might surprise you,” he said soberly. “This morning I woke to find a wee cat with folded-over ears staring at us.”

“You saw Owl? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You weren’t there when I returned, remember? And I did more than ‘see’ the cat. I touched her. I felt her fur. She wanted me to chase her.”

“So that is where you went. Where did she take you?”

“Back to the graves. My intention was to capture her and bring her back to you so that you could see she was real and not a ghost. But when I reached to pick her up, my hands went right through her.”

“That’s not happened before,” Margaret said. “I’ve always been able to hold her.”

“Perhaps she doesn’t like men?” Heath suggested.

“Or perhaps she isn’t going to be with us much longer.” Margaret walked a few steps past him, thinking furiously. “If she is the reincarnated soul of Rose Macnachtan, then it may be she must return to where she belongs.”

“Why would you believe her to be Rose?” he asked. “Could she not be Fenella?”

Margaret considered the matter a moment and then shook her head. “Fenella would not help us. You heard that man Swepston. Those who believe in the curse think the Chattans should remain afflicted until the end of time. But what if Rose is trying to help us?”

“Then you don’t want her to disappear.”

“Exactly.”

He held up his hands and took a step away. “I can’t believe I’m having this conversation.”

“I can’t believe you saw the cat,” she said. “No one else has seen her save for Harry and . . .” She paused. “His wife first saw the cat. Before Harry did.” She frowned at Heath. “Why do you think Owl has revealed herself to you?”

Before he could answer, there was knock on the door. “We are not to be disturbed,” he barked.

Dara’s voice said, “I must disturb you, Heath. Owen Campbell is here. He said it is urgent he speaks to you.”

Heath’s whole manner changed. Tension straightened his shoulders. His brows came together. “What the devil is he doing here?”

“Who is he?” Margaret asked.

“Someone I don’t want to talk to,” Heath answered.

“And yet you must?”

“And yet I must,” he agreed, his expression grim. He opened the door where Dara waited for him. “Where is he?”

“In the sitting room. Is something the matter, Heath?”

He didn’t answer Dara but turned to Margaret. “We will finish this conversation. And by the by, you may be the first female in your line, but I’m the last male. Perhaps that means something.” He took off with a purposeful step down the hall.

Dara peeked into the library. “What was that about?”

Margaret ignored Dara’s question, asking instead, “Who is this Owen Campbell?”

“He’s a relative of the Duke of Argyll,” Dara said. “I know he’s interested in purchasing Marybone.”

Margaret looked around the cozy library. She liked this house. Yes, parts of the building and most of the furnishings were shabby, but it had good bones and a comfortable air. “Will Heath sell?”

“He may have no choice,” Dara answered with a distracted air. “Excuse me, I must go and find out what I can.” She left.

Margaret stood a moment, and then decided she might want to know more about why Owen Campbell was calling as well.

She waited a few beats, and then followed Dara down the hall. She found Dara with Laren and Anice huddled on the staircase, out of the line of sight of the sitting room but close enough to hear everything.

Margaret joined them.