Page 23 of Married for a Highland Debt
William nodded slowly. “There is still something else you are not telling me, Bettie.” He put an arm around her shoulder, then, unable to help herself, she burst into tears.
“Da, he is so cold,” she sobbed. “He is never cruel to me, but he treats me as if I am only there for his convenience.” She shuddered.
“Should I speak to him?” William asked, trying to hide the fury that was building up inside him. He did not want to upset his daughter any more than he had already.
“No! Da, that will make things ten times worse.” She sighed and pulled out of his arms. “I need a place to stay and think.”
“Then you may stay here and take my bed,” he said firmly. He put up a hand to stop her protests. “Do not argue with me, Bettie. I will make other arrangements, and you may stay here as long as you need. This is all my doing, after all.”
“Thank you, Da,” she whispered, but inside herself, she felt bereft. She had torn herself away from Ninian, reasoning that there was no hope for them, but perhaps she had been too hasty. If they had time apart, would he miss her? Or would he simply go on without her? She shuddered at the thought.
Having spent a restless night without his wife, Ninian was angry—not just with Bettina but with himself. She was a gently bred woman of considerable character and intelligence, but he had treated her as nothing more than a convenience, a vessel for his seed so that she could bear his child. A “walking womb,” as she had so eloquently put it. The more he thought about it, the more furious he became, until at last, he stood up and marched to the door of his study, threw it open, and almost bumped into the last person he had ever expected to see.
“Margaret!” he exclaimed as he skidded to a halt on the polished wooden floor.
The woman in front of him stumbled backward, equally as startled as she was. She was a small woman with luxuriant auburn hair tied in a knot at the nape of her neck, large green eyes, and a heart-shaped face with full lips and a tip-tilted nose. In fact, his former wife was one of the loveliest women he had ever seen, but he knew that her heart was black.
“Ninian, you startled me!” she gasped with a nervous laugh, then stood still, obviously waiting to be admitted to his study.
Ninian did not oblige her, instead standing on the threshold of his inner sanctum, hands on hips, feet planted wide apart so that he almost filled the whole doorway. “What do you want, Margaret?” he growled. “I gave you a generous settlement last time. Do not ask me for more money; you will receive no more.”
“I did not come here for money!” she answered hotly. “I came to tell you something that will save you much embarrassment if it is discovered; however, if you would rather I did not, then I will leave.” She turned on her heel to go, but he grabbed her arm.
“Come inside,” he said grimly. “Say what you have to say and go, Margaret. I do not want you under my roof a moment longer than is necessary.”
Margaret pushed past him and sat on a chair in front of the desk. “Are you not going to offer me a glass of wine?” she asked, pointedly looking at the decanter on the table.
“No,” he snapped. “I am not. Get on with it, then get out, Margaret.” He dropped into the chair behind the desk and glared at her.
“Very well.” She sat back in her chair and looked at him steadily. “I am with child,” she stated, her voice flat.
“And how does this concern me?” He was puzzled. “It is not my child.”
“No, it is not,” she agreed. “But everyone thinks you sent me away because I could not conceive a child. If news travels that I am pregnant, the blame will fall on you, and people may think you are impotent.”
“We both know why I sent you away,” he said grimly. “Because you are faithless and betrayed me.”
“But no one else knows that,” Margaret pointed out.
“No—because out of the goodness of my heart, I did not let the truth be known to save you embarrassment. God knows why!” he thundered, standing up and towering over her. “Clearly, your pregnancy is not well advanced or you would be showing signs of it by now. Whose baby is it?”
“It is my baby,” she answered. “The father is none of your concern. I wanted to warn you of my condition so that you would be prepared. You know what gossip mongers servants are. Word spreads like wildfire when they begin to chatter amongst themselves. I will, of course, keep it to myself for as long as possible, but eventually, nature will take its course, and the babe will begin to show.”
“Are you married to the father?” he asked, looking at her keenly.
“Again, that is none of your business,” she replied.
“Look at me,” Ninian ordered, and she raised her eyes to meet his. However, he could read nothing in them, but Margaret had always been adept at hiding her thoughts. “How long will it be ’til the child is born?”
She shrugged. “It is hard to know. I have missed my courses twice, so perhaps six or seven months. Still, I hear that there is another Lady Ogilvy now. No doubt she will give you the heir you so desperately desire in the near future. I hope so, Ninian. You do deserve to be happy, and I am sorry that I made you so miserable.” Again, she dropped her gaze and looked at her hands.
She was lying. He knew it.
“Thank you, Margaret, but it is rather late for apologies now.” His voice was grim. “The best thing you can do for me now is keep your distance. My wife will not know you have been here. She is a good woman, and I care for her.”
“I am glad to hear it.” She gave him a thin smile. “Goodbye, Ninian.”
“Goodbye, Margaret, and please do not come near here again,” he warned her. “The guards will not admit you.”
