by Bree Wolf
Nathan swallowed, dreading this part of their conversation more than any other for it only served to remind him to of the depths to which he had sunk. Maggie, at least, had tried to find a meaningful relationship with another; Nathan had never done so, not once in over a decade. “I couldn’t forget you,” he told her, hoping she could somehow understand how hard it had been for him to live through each day, “but I tried. I couldn’t bear thinking of you, but there you were on my mind every morning when I opened my eyes. I would see you in my dreams, only to wake and be reminded that you would never return. After a while, I couldn’t take it anymore.”
Her head bobbed up and down, and understanding shone in her gaze as her jaw clenched painfully.
Nathan exhaled a relieved breath. “I know it was despicable of me, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I simply didn’t want to feel that pain any longer and so I did what I could to…distract myself.” He sighed. “But last night, it didn’t work. You were once again on my mind, and I was about to turn back when you saw us. All I could think about was you.” His gaze trailed over her face−savouring each and every glimpse of her after a decade apart−and before he could stop himself, his hand reached out and cupped her cheek.
Maggie tensed and drew in a shuddering breath.
“I’m sorry.” Nathan withdrew his hand, delighting in her warmth that still lingered on his skin. Then he met her eyes. “Why did you come back to London? Here? Now?” He shrugged. “Why?”
Again, her arms moved to hug her, but she forced them back down. “I came to rid myself of ye,” she whispered, and he could see deep emotions fighting to break through to the surface. “I came to look ye in the eye and tell ye how much ye hurt me.” Her lips began to tremble. “I came to be free of ye.”
Unable to stop himself, Nathan threw caution to the wind and reached for her. Her pain was his, and he could no longer keep his distance.
Still, Maggie shrank away, staring at his outstretched hand as though it were a snake about to strike. “I came to be free of ye,” she repeated as though needing to remind herself to stay the course.
Nathan understood her fear for if she gave in now, she would risk getting hurt all over again. “I hoped for the same each and every day,” Nathan admitted as his hand gently reached to cup her face yet again. His eyes held hers, and he could see how torn she was. He saw longing and fear, the same that echoed within his own chest, urging him down two different paths. But he could only choose one and, in the end, it was no choice at all.
After all, she was his little daisy.
His hand cupped her cheek and, for a short moment, she closed her eyes, leaning into his touch, before they snapped open again, staring at him almost fearfully. “I came to be free of ye.” Despite the trembling of her voice, her words were like a sword she brandished before her, trying with all her might to keep him at bay, to fight down her own longing, to remind herself of the pain she’d already endured.
As more tears streamed down her face, her hands hesitantly reached out to touch him, inch by torturous inch, a little forward and then a little back, before the tips of her fingers finally brushed against his chin. The sensation of her all but fleeting touch almost brought Nathan to his knees, and his other hand reached out to pull her into his arms.
Maggie gasped, and her hands dropped from his face. She leaned away, and yet, did not try to move out of his embrace. “I came to be−”
“I missed you,” Nathan whispered, leaning down to her, his forehead coming to rest against her own. He felt a short gasp leave her lips at the sudden closeness before her fingers returned to trail over the sides of his face. “I missed you so much.”
Maggie sobbed quietly as her hands began to reach for him, as she moved closer, as longing slowly overwhelmed the fear her heart still harboured and she lifted her head to look at him. “I missed ye, too,” she whispered through a curtain of tears. “Every day.” She nodded as though to assure him that she spoke the truth. “Every day.” Then she suddenly surged forward, her arms coming around his neck, and she pulled him down into a kiss.
For a moment, time stilled and they simply stood there in each other’s arms, tears streaming down their cheeks, the kiss no more than a gentle pressure of mouth on mouth.
And then the dam broke and longing crushed fear beneath its boot.
Hands moved to touch and feel, soothing and reassuring. Nathan’s arm came around her middle and he pulled her against him, unable to bear even the slightest distance between them. Maggie’s lips explored his, and he kissed her with a desperate need, reminding them both that the past decade apart had finally come to an end.
They were here.
Now.
Together.
And Nathan would never let her go again. Come hell or high water, he would hold on to her.
Always.
Chapter Eighteen
The Meaning of a Lie
“How dare ye betray Father!”
Maggie flinched at the sound of her son’s angry growl. It cut through her like a knife, and she felt the pain in every fibre of her being. Her muscles went slack in defeat, in exhaustion, in surrender and she would no doubt have collapsed to the floor had Nathan not tightened his grip on her.
Please, no! A desperate and weak, little voice deep inside whispered. Please, I canna bear this, too. Not now. Not here.
Closing her eyes against the next emotional turmoil she knew lay ahead, Maggie wished she could simply sink into the ground or curl up into a ball and never step out into the world ever again.
But she could not. Niall needed her. She was his mother, and she needed to go to him.
Bracing herself, Maggie met Nathan’s gaze as she slowly stepped out of his embrace. His eyes were wide as he glanced at her son, only now realising that she had become a mother in their time apart. She felt him tense and wondered if this revelation would change anything for him. Would he still want her now?
Shaking off the thought, Maggie turned to her son, reminding herself that her children came first. Always. Everything else needed to wait. She would not put her own wishes before theirs.
Shock had robbed Niall’s bright face of its colour as he stood in the half-open door, his green eyes narrowed and blazing, shooting daggers at her and Nathan alike. His full and vibrant auburn hair−so much like her own−made him look even paler, and she saw that his little hand was clenched tightly around the door handle as though he needed something to hold onto before the sight of his mother’s betrayal would knock him off his feet.
Maggie’s heart cringed at the sight. “Mo chridhe, please let me explain,” she pleaded as she stepped toward her son. “I−”
“No!” Niall yelled, already backing away. “How could ye? Father loved ye. How can ye betray him like this?” Shaking his head, his lips twisted into a snarl, Niall then spun around and fled.
“Niall!” Maggie called after her son and, without another thought, she rushed after him, knowing that she could not allow him to work through this on his own.
Quiet and watchful Niall had always known that an imbalance had existed between his mother and father. He’d somehow sensed early on that Maggie had not loved her husband the way Ian had loved her.
And Ian had been Niall’s hero.
He’d adored his father and, although Ian had never once said a word to his son, Niall had sensed his father’s unhappiness. It had driven a wedge between Maggie and her son for, deep down, Niall blamed her for his father’s suffering.
Maggie had always known that; what she had not known was what to do about it.
“Is everything all right?” Cecilia asked with slightly widened eyes as Maggie hastened past her as she stepped out onto the terrace. “Niall just−”
But Maggie heard no more as she raced down into the gardens, barely catching a glimpse of her son as he headed around the corner of a thickly-growing hedge, then disappeared from sight. She pushed onward, not bothering to call out for she knew he would never heed her words. No, he was l
ost in his anger.
So much like his father.
Ian, too, had lost himself in his disappointment, in his regret and anger. Over the years, the growing bitterness made him do things he otherwise never would have. He’d lashed out at people. He’d hurt them in his blind hatred, feeling powerless in a life that had turned against him.
Because of her.
Because of Maggie.
Because of what she’d done to him.
And then the situation had escalated, resulting in that moment up on the cliff. And yet, in that last moment, the moment when it had mattered the most, the moment when Ian had been called upon to prove what kind of man he was, he had done the right thing.
He’d been kind and good and selfless.
He’d given his life for another.
For Blair.
But also for Moira, their laird’s wife, a woman he’d blamed for Maggie’s cold heart toward him for many years. He’d needed someone to blame, and she’d been a convenient target because of her otherworldly abilities. It had been easier than to admit that he’d been wrong, that he’d made a mistake.
A mistake in pursuing Maggie.
A mistake in marrying her.
A mistake in believing he could win her heart.
Anger was easier to bear than regret. Regret ate one up from the inside, and yet, anger changed the person one had been. Either choice would lead one down a path toward unhappiness. Maggie knew it well for, unlike Ian, she’d chosen regret.
But what about Niall? Was there anything she could do to spare him either fate? He deserved better. He didn’t know it, but he was her own little hero, always looking out for her and Blair. Always watchful. Always caring.
And now, she had betrayed him.
Oh, how he had to be hurting!
When the hedge made a rather sharp turn, Maggie slowed her steps, her breath coming fast as she turned to look at the small wooden bench situated under a small cluster of trees. There, Niall sat, hands linked and head bowed, a picture of misery.
Maggie could have burst into tears right then and there on the spot! Still, this was not about her. It was about her son, and he needed her to be strong now.
Inhaling a fortifying breath, Maggie approached slowly. Although Niall didn’t look up, she knew from the way his little shoulders tensed that he was aware of her presence. He hunched over a bit more when she sat down beside him, and she knew he was torn about holding onto his anger and turning to her for comfort.
At only nine years old, Niall already knew the burden of balancing desire and duty and he possessed strength beyond his age for he often chose duty over desire, knowing it was the right thing to do.
Uncertain where to begin, Maggie sat beside her son for a long while, staring at the green wall that shrouded them in a cocoon of solitude. Here, in this moment, the rest of the world did not exist.
“I miss him,” Niall finally whispered, his head still bowed. “‘Tis been so long, but I still miss him.”
Maggie nodded and carefully reached out a hand to place it on her son’s folded ones. “I know. I do as well.”
Niall’s head rose and his green eyes found hers, doubt in his gaze.
“‘Tis true,” Maggie assured him. “I promise I willna lie to ye. I cared deeply for yer father. I did.”
“But ye didna love him!”
Maggie swallowed. “Not as a wife should, nay.” Her hand gently squeezed his, and she breathed a sigh of relief when he did not pull away. “Will ye let me tell ye a story?”
His eyes swept her face before he finally nodded, his gaze once more returned to their linked hands.
With gentle words, Maggie told her son how she grew up in England with her brother and Nathan. She spoke to him of their childhood days and the bond that connected them across family ties. She told him how she’d lost her heart to Nathan and about the letter that had arrived not long after her arrival in Scotland. She whispered of her heartbreak and sorrow and how Ian had done his utmost to cheer her up.
“Yer father saw with a single glance that I’d lost my heart long before coming to Scotland,” Maggie told her son. “He knew, and he wanted to help me. That’s the kind of man he was.” She squeezed Niall’s hand until he looked up at her. “Ye remind me of him. Ye’re the same. Both watchful. Both rushing to help without hesitation, without a second thought.” She smiled. “I loved him for it.”
“Then why could ye not be happy?”
Maggie sighed. “Because I couldna love him the way he deserved,” she admitted, feeling her son’s hand tense under hers. “I didna know it then, and neither did he. We both hoped that time would change how I felt. We both tried and, for a time, I…I willed myself to be happy.” Maggie closed her eyes, remembering the days when she’d forced herself to laugh and smile, to fling herself into Ian’s arms and return his kisses with the very passion he’d longed for. “But ‘twas a lie. It didna feel right. Only by the time, we realised that time wouldna change anything, ‘twas too late.”
Niall’s body tensed and, when Maggie moved to pull him into her arms, he scooted away to the very end of the bench. His gaze found hers, and her heart plummeted seeing his lips pressed into a grimace of pain and anger. “The man ye kissed,” Niall snapped, “is he the one ye want? Is he the reason ye couldna love my father?”
Maggie swallowed hard. “Aye, he is,” she forced herself to say, knowing that nothing would be worse than a lie. “I only today found out that…he never married.” Niall’s gaze narrowed. “My mother lied to me all those years ago. Nathan never married. ‘Twas a lie to keep me in Scotland.”
All colour drained from Niall’s face and, for a long moment, he simply stared at her. Then his lips thinned and he jumped to his feet. “Ye canna marry him! Ye canna! I willna allow it!”
“Niall−”
“No!” he all but screamed in her face as tears began brimming in his eyes. “Ye dunna deserve to be happy! Not after what ye did to Father. He was a good man, the best. Everyone loved him, but ye couldna. Ye made him sad and angry. ‘Twas yer fault! All of it! He wouldna have died if ye had only loved him!”
And then he stormed off.
Staring after her son, Maggie slumped down, barely able to remain seated. Fresh tears spilled down her cheeks, and she dimly wondered how many more she had left in herself. Would there come a moment when she’d have truly cried herself out?
With her head buried in her hands, Maggie remained where she was, her limbs heavy, weighed down by guilt, regret and utter sadness. What was she to do?
Only moments earlier, a part of her had dared to hope again. Nathan had never chosen another over her. He’d loved her as she’d loved him. He’d yearned for her as she’d yearned for him. And now he was here and perhaps this was their second chance. Perhaps they could start over and have the life her mother had robbed them of.
But never at the price of Niall’s happiness.
“Never,” Maggie whispered, remembering how her mother had ruined her daughter’s life in order to reach for something she wanted. Never would Maggie do that to her children. If Niall would not give her his blessing, then…
The door that had opened earlier that day was flung shut in her face, destroying each and every little hope she had foolishly allowed back into her heart. No, she would not be selfish. She was a mother, and her children deserved her loyalty, her consideration, her unconditional love.
And they had them.
Niall and Blair were Maggie’s pride and joy. She loved the way they looked out for one another. She loved the way they would walk up to her and give her a kiss or a hug for no other reason but that they loved her. She loved to see them happy, their eyes aglow and their cheeks flushed with life.
Niall and Blair were her heart and soul, and she would do what she had to to protect them. To give them back their smiles. To see them happy.
Beyond everything else, they needed to know that there was nothing and no one in this life more important to her than them.
; For it was the truth.
Plain and simple
And yet, her heart broke into a thousand tiny pieces at the thought of saying goodbye to Nathan all over again.
Chapter Nineteen
A Wee Lassie
Has the rug already grown thinner? Nathan wondered as he gazed down at the item in question while continuing to pace up and down the length of the drawing room. After all, a lot of pacing had been done here this day by Maggie as well as himself, and the day wasn’t done yet.
Then he sighed, and his gaze moved to the hole in the window, which allowed a mild breeze to drift inside. It was soft and soothing and utterly refreshing, and he enjoyed standing in the small draft. His face burnt with the heat of all the emotions that had swept through him that day, and he’d already discarded his necktie and jacket and loosened his collar and sleeves. To hell with propriety! He felt close to suffocating!
Again, Nathan began to pace, his gaze drifting back and forth between the window, the rug under his feet as well as the door. “She has a son,” he whispered into the solitude of the room for probably the hundredth time. “A son.”
The thought stung for Nathan couldn’t help but think that if he had married Maggie back then, the boy could have been their son, hers and his. They could’ve been a family. They could’ve…
Running his hands through his hair, Nathan yawned. He was exhausted. His heart and mind ached, and he felt as though he no longer knew up from down. His thoughts ran in odd circles, jumping loosely around in his head, connecting things that bore no obvious connection. Perhaps he needed sleep.
Nathan stopped in his tracks. “I have a son,” he mumbled as though that thought had never before occurred to him. He pictured Collin’s face as he’d seen it at the picnic, then set it aside Maggie’s son’s in his mind, looking at the two boys. In fact, they looked quite different. Where Niall had rather pale skin with freckles as well as his mother’s flaming red hair, Collin sported the same dark blond hair and blue eyes as Nathan. “They look like us,” Nathan chuckled, shaking his head at all the thoughts of what could have been…