Page 36 of Highlander’s Torn Bride

“This is the best decision, Margaret. Best for everyone,” he said, his eyes no more than an empty pit, and the darkness that was behind them frightened her, forcing her to look away.

“Since when?” she asked as she studied her feet. “What have I done to displease you?”

“Do you really think,” he said, “that I was pleased with the daughter of a merchant? I told you it was alright because I did not ken that an option other than continuing our union was possible without bloodshed. The option is now here, so it would be wisest to take it.”

“Aye. Alexander and Isobel will wed in secret and, if tis ever questioned by law, then Alexander will declare his marriage to you invalid. Meanwhile, ye’ll be free to do the same,” Gavin said, walking toward her and brushing his fingers against her shoulder.

Out of the corner of her eye, Margaret thought she saw Alexander’s eyes shooting over to them when Gavin touched her, but, if he had, he had looked away before she could return the glance.

“You think I would marry you? Do not venture too far,” Margaret said, pulling away and daring another look at Alexander. “Unless, Alexander, tis your wish for me to do so.”

“I do not care so much about what you do. I am sure you will find happiness—and love—one way, or another.”

Margaret couldn’t look at him anymore. If she did, she would have lost all control of herself. Is this really what he wanted? Had all of his words of love been lies and hers only falling on deaf and unwilling ears?

He had played her. He had used her. He had taken from her any chance of her ever trusting again, of ever loving again.

All so that he could have a bride like Isobel.

“Oh no, Margaret,” Gavin rushed to her, taking her face in her hands. She didn’t pull away. Why would she? She was no longer obligated to prevent other men from touching her with such intimacy.

“What is it?” Isobel asked with impatience, dropping into a chair, her skirts crunching as they were bent into the position.

“Margaret, yer crying, ye aren’t supposed to cry. Remember yer vow and pull them back.”

“I’ll not do that,” she said, pulling out of his grasp once more. “I made that vow imagining that I could go no lower in life than losing my parents and security. But I had been a foolish lass, for I have now gone much lower.”

Margaret aimed her last words at Alexander, hoping he could feel the hatred in her voice, and that it would be a powerful enough force to tear him apart in the same way that his words had done to her. He still would not look at her, but at least he had the decency to wince.

“I wish you two all the happiness. May you get all that you deserve,” Margaret said in finality, spinning on her heels and leaving the room, letting her tears continue to fall without an attempt to check them.

“Donna ye worry, lass, we will be back in Gunn lands within the hour,” Gavin said, whipping the horses as they pulled their mostly emptied cart along.

Margaret had left nearly everything she had brought with her at Dirlot, taking only the few simple possessions that had made their way with her from Thurso. What good would fine dresses do her now? In two days, she would be a dockworker again. While Margaret had packed, Isobel had come to Alexander’s room, pursing her lips as she examined what she found to be rather plain decor. While there, she had told her sister about how she would insist her father reinstate the allowance, pushing the point so heavily to try and get Margaret to give her thanks. But Margaret hadn’t said a word to her.

Just as she hadn’t said a word, despite the long travels, to the man traveling beside her. Gavin had pushed her on more than one occasion to conversation, but Margaret had hardly a reason to give anything to him.

When Gavin had been a boy, she had despised him for constantly trying to overpower and control her with his fists. When he had become a man, one who had helped her secure a job and who promised her safety in his arms, she had thought him very much changed. But he hadn’t been. His method of trying to control her had only evolved to words and strategy. How hadn’t she seen it until it was too late? How had she let him come so close to her?

“You ken, lass, once we get back, I plan on wedding ye proper. Tis not going to be like the last time, when I was all promises but no action. I ken that that is why ye are angry with me.”

Margaret laughed. “You think that is why? Pull over, I’d like to take in the view.”

Gavin did as she bade, and Margaret slipped out of the cart, jumping down to the ground below without waiting for him to come and assist her. The road passed along a deep ravine. Margaret wandered to the edge and looked down, contemplating if the fall would be fatal and, if it was, if she would dare to jump.

Mariah and Laura are waiting for you, she realized, squeezing her eyes shut and taking a step back. If any good was going to come of this, it would be that she would reunite with the two girls that would never fail to love her as much as she loved them.

“Decided not to give it a go?” Gavin said, and Margaret turned to him. He was standing a way back, his loose shirt billowing in the breeze. The way he was looking at her was full of pain, and a bit of disgust. “Am I so bad as to consider it? Or, can I hope that I am the reason you stepped back?”

“Mariah and Laura, we will be stopping at Braemore to retrieve them?” Margaret asked. It wasn’t answering his question, not directly, but the truth of it was there if he chose to see it.

“Perhaps. I’d rather we settle into our own life first, though, before we bring them home. The wee lasses are doing well enough at Braemore.”

“Why are you so sure that me and you will have any sort of a life together?”

“Why wouldn’t we?” he asked. “Ye have no one else but me.”

“Tis not true. I have my sisters, and I have Ann. Tis you men that I have none of, nor do I want any of anymore.”