Page 86 of Taming the Heiress
"So you promised to marry him," he finished for her. "That blasted pig," he muttered under his breath.
Meg squeezed her eyes shut against an onslaught of tears, and lowered her head. "Dougal, I am so sorry," she whispered. "I have made a mess of this... from the very... beginning."
"Hush." He crossed to her in two strides and pulled her into his arms. "Hush, my bonny," he murmured. "When I think of you alone with this—bearing a child, not knowing the father, I am angry at myself for allowing it to happen to you. But now that it is out, we can fix it easily enough."
"How—how is that?" she gulped.
"Well, I suppose I ought to marry you," he whispered against the soft crown of her head. "I do not see how it can be avoided."
She laughed, a watery burble. "But what about Frederick?"
He held her for a moment, considering. Then it came to him like a sunburst of pure thought, illuminating, exhilarating. "Why, Mrs. Stewart," he said, drawing back to look down at her, "we've been married for seven years."
Meg gaped at him. "We... Oh! The rings!" She nodded. "My grandmothers do say there is an old custom of self-made marriage in Scotland."
"I've heard of it," he said. "I believe all a couple has to do is declare their love and exchange rings, and they are considered married without benefit of clergy or even witnesses."
"But we did not declare our love."
"Madam, I rather think we did." He dipped down to kiss her. "And Iain is the proof of it."
"You would be willing to tell Frederick this?"
"I would be delighted." He gathered her close. Then he gasped, remembering something. Meg pulled back to look up at him. "The train," he said. "I forgot. I have to get to the train." He let her go, took her hand to pull her toward the door.
"Dougal, surely you can miss the train, after all this," she said. "Take the next one."
"No," he said firmly, tugging her along. "I agreed to be back on Sgeir Caran tomorrow. There is a meeting assembling there of some lighthouse commissioners and a few investors."
"Stay the night," she said. "Take the morning train."
"I have to go." He stopped, looked down at her. "Sir Frederick Matheson is in that party."
"Dear God," she said. "Iain is on Caransay, and Frederick hates you and me just now!"
"Exactly what I was thinking," he muttered grimly as he pulled her with him through the library.
"I'm going with you," she insisted.
"No. Stay here. Let me take care of this."
"I'm going with you. Mr. Hamilton!" she called as they entered the hallway. "Mr. Hamilton! Mrs. Shaw!"
"No, Meg," Dougal said, spinning her to face him. "The fellow could be very dangerous. I will not allow you to go!"
"Allow me?" She stared up at him indignantly.
"I do not want you to go, madam," he amended, speaking through clenched teeth.
Guy Hamilton appeared in the foyer from a side door with Mrs. Shaw just behind him. "Madam, what is it?" he asked.
"I need a ticket for the Edinburgh to Glasgow train," she said. "And Angela, if you please, I need a satchel of clothing and a traveling cape and some things for a train journey. Oh, do hurry!" Mrs. Shaw nodded and grabbed her skirts, rushing up the steps, and Guy went at a half run into the library.
"Buy the ticket when we get to Waverley Station," Dougal grumbled. "And wear whatever your grandmother can lend you. We have no time—we must go."
"I do not handle the cash. Mr. Hamilton handles the cash."
"I will pay for the blasted ticket myself," Dougal said.
