Page 7 of Wed to the Highlander
“You did?” she asked, startled. No one had mentioned arrangements.
“Aye, lass. Everything you brought to the marriage—including the dowry set aside by your father—belongs to you.”
It made no sense. A chieftain arranging a marriage to save his clan then relying on fate rather than a bird in the hand—or cold, hard coin—seemed reckless.
“But... Your clan needs the funds.”
“I have enough tae get us through the year. I keep telling you, lass—I did no’ marry you to steal your wealth. I may be a Highlander, but I’m no thief.”
“But you’ll happily accept the inheritance marrying me will bring,” she challenged. “It seems one and the same.”
He scowled at her stubbornness. After all these years, he really should have expected it.
“Isn’t this chancy?” she pressed. “What if we don’t have a child?”
“I’m confident we will be blessed with one.”
“But if we aren’t, they’ll blame me for the devastation of your clan.”
“Our clan,” he reminded her. “And I’d never let that happen. All will come out right in the end. You’ll see.”
She was unconvinced. “I know couples who have longed for a family for years. You put a great deal of stock in your good fortune.”
“I believe in fate, not luck,” he replied, forking up another bite of roast beef.
She looked at him then—really looked. At the man who had upended her life, stolen her freedom, and claimed her heart without asking.
He returned her gaze without flinching, his expression open and steady.
“You think fate is enough?”
“I think it’s a start,” he said quietly. “The rest is up to us.”
The train gave a low groan as it began to climb. Outside, the countryside grew wilder, the trees taller, the sky darker with distant mist. Maggie felt the shift in her bones.
He reached across the table and filled her plate, since she hadn’t. “Eat.”
She picked up her fork and took a bite of the beef. It was tender, perfectly seasoned. Infuriatingly good.
Duncan smiled faintly. “See? Not everything north of Mayfair is barbaric.”
She chewed slowly, swallowed, and lifted her chin. “I’ll reserve judgment until I’ve witnessed the lack of mildew and seen the dragon-fire library with my own eyes.”
“Aye,” he said as he met her gaze over the rim of his wineglass. “When you do, you’ll know you are home.”
She wasn’t sure what home meant anymore. But something in his voice made her wonder if she might find it again.
Chapter 2
The carriage rolled to a stop with a groan of tired wheels and horses breathing heavy from the long climb into the city. Rain sheeted down in cold, relentless streams, blurring the lanternlight outside the narrow windows and streaking the glass with rivulets that ran like tears.
Maggie stirred from her stiff-backed slump, blinking as the door opened and a gust of cold air swept inside.
“We’re here,” Duncan said, already stepping out into the rain.
A moment later, he appeared at the door again, his dark coat already beaded with moisture. One gloved hand reached for her.
She hesitated only a second before placing her hand in his and letting him guide her down the slick step.
