Page 60 of Fire in his Highland Heart

But she was never satisfied. Things soured between them quickly. They spent most of their time bickering, which then grew into arguing, which then grew into fighting, which sometimes became physical on Cataline’s part. For being such a small, fair-looking thing, she could pack a punch. Or a slap. And when she was at her wit’s end, she used that.

When Mirellain was almost a year old, Cataline left, leaving only that fateful letter behind. She took only a few things with her, including her English maidservants. Blake had no idea where she had gone, and had sent out search parties for months. Each time a party set out, he was hopeful. But when they came back empty handed and with no sign of her, he grew discouraged. After a while, he disbanded the search parties. Wherever she was, she obviously didn’t want to be found. Soon, he proclaimed her dead to the town. Even had a funeral. James was the only person who knew the truth, and he had sworn on his life and the Holy Bible that he would tell no one.

That story had ruined his chances with Arguen, he thought. Technically, yes, he had lied to her, but he’d also never counted on falling so deeply in love with her. A few months ago, he would not have thought of remarriage, let alone marriage to the mysterious girl who showed up injured on his doorstep.

Of course, fate had a way of twisting and changing things to bring people to their destiny. He hoped for both their sakes that they could be together soon, without grief or strife.

All of this, he thought of until the sun rose. After ruminating on it for a night, he knew he needed to act. After dressing himself and taking breakfast in his study, he began to draw up a plan. James was likely still asleep, but he had a servant send him a message, telling him he was needed as soon as he was able.

About a half hour later, James arrived in Blake’s study, looking a little worse for wear. He was clearly still tired. His eyes were bloodshot and there were dark circles under them. He also sneezed a few times more than was necessary, and Blake winced each time.

“Ye ought tae go see Arguen after this. She could heal yer sneezin’.”

James sniffed. “Aye, I might. Must be the cold an’ rain from last night.”

“Aye, I dinnae doubt it,” Blake said sympathetically. James had always been loyal to him, a true confidant and friend. “I dinnae need ye tae do anythin’ again, I simply want tae hear yer ideas an’ have ye hear mine.”

James slumped into a chair by the hearth. Thankfully, the fire was blazing. He held out his hands to warm them up a bit.

Blake took the chair next to him. “I think I need tae visit Bruckstone meself.”

James shrugged. “Makes sense. ‘Tis a mess indeed.”

“I think I need tae clear Arguen’s name, an’ obviously Malcolm needs tae ken that Cataline isnae who she claims tae be.”

“All honorable, I think,” James offered.

Blake chewed at his bottom lip. “An’ I wonder if I should bring Arguen wi’ me. Surely she’d like tae see her brother again.”

“Ye dinnae think it unwise tae bring her back tae the place where she’s an accused witch?” James asked, and continued, “if I were Cataline, an’ I saw Arguen again, I’d want tae throw her in the dungeons straightaway.”

Blake stared into the fire and nodded. “Aye, ‘tis risky. But dinnae ye think it would look odd, me comin’ tae clear her name an’ her not bein’ there tae defend herself?”

James shrugged again. “We ought tae think more about it. Have a clear plan ‘afore we proceed.”

“Aye, indeed,” Blake said absentmindedly.

The two of them stared into the fire silently after that. How were they to untangle this?

Chapter Twenty-One

Arguen angrily pulled the weeds out of her kitchen herb garden. The dream in which Connie appeared and told her to watch out for snakes occupied her mind at all times. Of course, she knew it was a thinly veiled way for her subconscious to tell her that Blake was innocent and certainly no snake, but for the past few days, she’d had trouble believing it. It hurt her to know that he had been keeping the truth from her. He had not directly lied, but the fact that he had told her his wife was dead and not merely missing still hurt. It made her wonder what else he was not telling her. If that were the case...could she really trust him? Or the people around him? Who was to say that James or Mrs. Kinney knew as well? What if the whole town knew, but her? For Christ’s sake, she could be a laughingstock.

She was so lost in her own thoughts that she failed to notice the heavy step of the horse nearby, and the footfalls of the person after they dismounted. It wasn’t until a shadow cast over her garden that she realized someone was there, and she was forced to pause her work for a moment.

Blake’s imposing figure stood before her, his head blocking out the sun. If Arguen were in a better mood, she might have likened the sun behind him to a halo around his head. Right now, in her sour, overthinking mind, he was blocking the light for her plants, which they needed if they were going to survive and be harvested before winter settled in.

She sat back on her heels, huffed, and looked up at him angrily. “What d’ye want?”

“Tae apologize,” Blake answered without missing a beat. Arguen looked him over for a moment. He looked quite haggard. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he didn’t stand at his full height. In fact, he seemed to be slumping a little. She might have felt sympathy if she weren’t so upset.

“Go on then,” she prompted, hoping her voice sounded cold and authoritative rather than eager.

He took a deep breath and knelt down beside her. “Arguen, I’m truly sorry I didnae reveal tae ye that Mirellain’s mother is alive. ‘Twas not fair tae ye. The moment we started becoming...attached...I should have said somethin’ tae ye. I’m sorry tae have kept ye in the dark. Ye deserve someone who gives ye the truth, an’ naethin’ but.”

It was moving, truly, having the laird of the castle kneel next to her in her grubby herb garden and make this grand apology.

“Why did ye not tell me earlier?”