“Ye know you’re the one I wanted,” she said. “I only married him because he had the title and lands.”
No one could accuse Curstag of being subtle. The lass did not have a kind or sensitive bone in her body.
“Ye can’t blame me for making a good marriage,” she said. “Any lass with an ounce of sense would do the same.”
He did not fault her for choosing the position and security she believed his brother could give her, but for toying with him when he was too naïve to know that would inevitably tip the scales against him.
“But now that you’re the heir,” she said, tilting her head in a way he once found fetching, “there’s nothing to keep us apart.”
“Nothing?” he said. “You’re forgetting I have a wife.”
“You’re only handfasted,” she said. “Ye don’t have to wait the whole year to set her aside.”
“Maggie is the only woman I’ll ever want,” he said. “Don’t ye understand? I love her.”
The words that fell out of his mouth were true. He was hopelessly in love with Margaret. No other woman would ever do for him now.
“Love?Ach, you’re still the romantic ye were at sixteen.”She gave a light laugh and shook her head. “I give it a month before ye tire of her and come begging—”
“Don’t let me find ye in here again.” Finn pushed her out the door and shut it behind her.
Ironically, he had reason to be grateful to Curstag. In the midst of so many dark days, she had given him hope by pointing out that the barrier that kept him from making Margaret his true wife was gone. He was no longer a landless warrior who must always live by his sword.
He was his father’s heir.
###
Margaret lay sprawled on the bed beside Finn, unable to move her limbs. This was so unfair. Just when she had decided it was time to ask Finn to take her to her sister’s, he tore down the wall he’d erected between them and made love to her until her body felt like soft wax melded to the mattress—and he held her heart in his hands.
She could not leave him while his aunt, uncle, and brother were dying, nor while his father’s fate was uncertain. But now the dead were buried, and his father, though still weak, was recovering. Sadly, there was nothing Finn could do for Alex until his cousin came of age.
The crises were passed. It was time to leave.
And yet she did not want to go.
“Your father has been asking for ye,” she said. When he groaned in response, she kissed his shoulder and brushed the back of her fingers along the side of his face. “I know things have never been easy between the two of ye, but he’s lost a brother and a son. He needs you.”
“Ye take care of everyone, whether they deserve it or no.” He gave her a tender kiss on the lips. “I promise I’ll talk with him.”
She groaned her objection when Finn got out of bed, but he was back a moment later and pulled her up to sit up beside him on the edge of the bed.
“The blacksmith helped me make this for ye,” Finn said, and handed her a small wooden box.
“A gift?” she said. “Ye needn’t have.”
She hoped he had not wasted what little money he had on jewelry he could ill afford. She once owned jewels worth a small fortune, but the only piece that meant anything to her was the onyx pendant her mother gave her. The others were ornaments given not out of affection, but to accentuate her beauty and enhance her status as a worthy prize.
“Just open it,” he said in an indifferent tone that did not fool her.
The lid fit snugly, and it took her a moment to work it off the box. When it suddenly gave way and she saw what was inside, she gasped.
“Ye don’t like it?” Finn asked.
She blinked back tears as she picked up the brooch and ran her fingertip across the shiny black stones embedded in a circle made of silver. The irregular broken pieces of her onyx had been transformed into a thing of beauty.
“Ach, I knew I should have asked ye before I did this with your bag of stones,” Finn said, misunderstanding her tears entirely. “I can melt it down and remove the stones.”
Her throat was too tight for her to choke out words to reassure him, so she just put her arms around his neck and wept.
