Page 46 of Taming the Heiress
Watching the dancers, listening to the music, she saw Fergus spin around with Peigi, both laughing brightly, without cares. Meg folded her arms tightly, feeling a piercing loneliness. She wanted to be in Dougal's arms again, felt the craving and the need like a weight in her soul. Tears pricked her eyes. She yearned to be alone with him, to tell him that she had forgiven him, that she loved him. She wanted to seek the wildness of her soul in his arms.
Would it be so wrong, she wondered, just once, to go to him and give of herself? Soon she would return to the mainland, to the other world, to Sir Frederick and a life of lies and fear. She would have to leave Dougal and Iain and all her newest hopes and dreams behind forever.
The dance ended, and she turned to see Dougal, his brow puckered thoughtfully, his eyes dark with concern. Tipping his head, he seemed to ask silently if all was well. She looked away. Despite her longing, she could not explain her heart to him.
The music began again, and several people separated into two lines to perform the Seann Triubhas, or Chantreuse, as she knew Lowlanders called the old dance still popular in the Isles.
Dougal moved toward her. "Miss MacNeill?"
"I... I would be delighted, Mr. Stewart," she said softly, glad for this chance to forget what troubled her for a little while, a chance to simply be near him and feel his touch.
They moved toward the dancers, some of whom shifted to offer them the lead positions. Facing Dougal, Meg curtsied as he bowed, and they stepped in natural harmony, folding into the center, gliding in unison on the rhythms of the music. With her hand on his lifted forearm, they reached the end of the line and separated again. Happiness bubbled briefly through her, rippling again as she faced him across the gap.
He smiled in the way that she had grown to adore, private and quick with twinkling eyes, as if his heart were hers alone.
Beyond this dance floor and this celebration, it could never be so. Here she was simply Meg, dancing carefree with handsome Dougal, and dreams were still possible. Out there, she was Lady Strathlin, with a desperate secret and a vile enemy—and Dougal, the man she loved, despised that lady.
* * *
"Ach,I should have sent the child to his bed," Fergus told Meg. "Look at him now. He cannot keep his eyes open, though he begged me to let him stay up the night." Tilting his head, he indicated Iain, half asleep on a bench, chin and arms leaned on the scrubbed pine surface of Thora's table. His eyelids drooped, flew open, then sagged again. "I'll take him to bed now."
"Fergus, I'll take him," Meg said, smiling as she looked at Iain. He had stubbornly lasted until this late hour, when guests were leaving, the lively music had ended, and the storytelling had begun with a smaller gathering. "They're waiting for you to join them with the stories and such. And... I'd like to tuck Iain into bed myself."
Time with Iain was precious to her, for she saw her son only a few weeks out of every year. Days ago, he had come close to death, and now another threat loomed, one only she knew about.
Fergus touched her arm. "A moment, Cousin. I want to ask you something." His golden-brown eyes seemed troubled.
Meg nodded. Her cousin had a good-hearted, earnest nature, and she had never regretted her decision to entrust her son to his care, even after Anna had died.
"I hear the lad is doing well with his schooling," he said.
"He's a bright lad, and Mrs. Berry is a fine tutor."
"I am thinking he will need much more learning, unless he becomes a fisherman, like me and so many of his kinsmen."
"He would do well to follow in the footsteps of you and Grandfather Norrie."
Fergus removed his cap and rubbed his head. "I am thinking he might do well in a mainland school."
She blinked, surprised by that. "Is that what you want for him, Fergus?"
"Well, I am thinking it is what you want for him." He kneaded his cap in his hands. "If you take him back to Edinburgh to live in your castle and your other fine houses, he can go to a real school. He can grow up to have all that a man dreams of."
If she took Iain back to Edinburgh, she ran a great risk of losing him entirely, now that Sir Frederick knew about him. Soon enough Dougal might learn the truth and take his son.
"I can think of no better place than Caransay for a boy to grow up," she said.
He smiled in shy agreement. "Margaret, I have not forgotten who gave birth to the lad. And though I love him with all my heart, he has no mother in my house now," he said sadly, glancing around to be sure they would not be heard. Most of the others sat by the fireside, creating a private corner for Meg and Fergus.
Meg leaned close, her hand on his arm. "On the day Iain was born, I trusted you and Anna with him. And though she is gone, I would trust you with him always. He loves you and small Anna. He would be heartbroken to leave you." Tears stung her eyes.
He nodded, looking down. "We nearly lost him the other day. So I am thinking you will want him to live with you now, in your great castle, where you can see him each day."
Her heart surged. "Is that what you want, Fergus?"
"I want him to be happy—and you to be happy, too."
"And for yourself?"
