The Pocket Watch (12 page)

“Staying here means leaving my father and my sister forever.”

By all the saints, he didn’t want to lose her. He understood the importance of family. His family and clan had been his focus as long as he could remember. How could he ask this of her? And yet…how could he not? “Maggie, ye know I have always put the needs of my clan and family first. As my father’s heir, and now the laird, it is the responsibility I was born to. It seems ye have always done the same. Over the last few years, as little more than a lass, ye have sacrificed yer own dreams and happiness, first to care for yer dying mother and then to ensure the wellbeing of yer family. I have no right to ask ye what I am about to, but for once, I am thinking solely of what I want and I have never wanted anything more. Maggie, please stay. I love ye. Be my bride and, at my side, help guide this clan.”

~ * ~

Dear God. Maggie had never wanted anything more either. Logan had listened to her story, believed it, and knowing full well who she really was, he had asked her to marry him and stay. She thought back to her last conversation with Paige. Her sister had said,
if you don’t wake up in the morning, while I’ll be sad and miss you forever, I will know someone worthy earned your heart
. Maggie realized that some part of Paige had believed it possible. She would understand Maggie’s choice and help Dad understand it too.

Maggie looked into Logan’s stormy grey eyes, and knew her decision was made. “Aye, Logan, I’ll marry ye. I’ll stay.”

Logan let out a breath and pulled her back into his arms, kissing her until she could no longer think straight.

When he eventually broke the kiss, she rested her head against his chest. “I think I finally understand what Elliott meant when he said he loved me, but it was different with Amanda. I loved him. I still do. But what I felt for him is not remotely like what I feel for ye. Logan, I love ye with everything I am. I can’t imagine going back and living the rest of my life without ye.”

Chapter 11

The rising tension that Maggie had felt for days was gone. Making the choice to follow her heart had freed her. Now she could look forward to the wedding. Perhaps more importantly, she also felt she could face meeting Margaret’s father, knowing that he was, in fact, coming for her wedding and not her funeral.

Representatives from most of Logan’s allies began arriving that afternoon and shortly before the evening meal was to be served, the Grants arrived. After the watch announced their approach, Maggie waited to greet them in the inner bailey with Logan and Lady Davina. As they rode through the gates, Maggie’s attention fell on an older man with reddish hair and a graying beard. Suddenly various images of the man flashed through Maggie’s brain—it was like a montage of tiny snippets from a movie. Gertrude had said some memories might surface over time. Clearly Margaret knew this man.

As if he saw the puzzlement on her face, Logan leaned close to her ear, confirming her suspicions. “That tall man in the middle is yer da.”

The man dismounted and strode towards them. He stopped in front of her, “Margaret, ye’re looking well, lass. I trust ye have come to accept this betrothal?”

Surprised that he didn’t greet her with a hug or some sort of show of affection, Maggie simply answered, “Aye.”

Logan came to her rescue. “Laird Grant, there is something I need to tell ye.”

“If my daughter has talked ye out of this marriage, think again, Carr. Ye have no reason to set her aside and I won’t listen to any nonsense.”

Logan shook his head. “Laird, I fully intend to marry Margaret.”

“Then what could ye possibly have to discuss with me that is so urgent it must be addressed on the steps of yer keep?”

Lady Davina stepped in, “Alpin, ye are as hard-headed as ever, I see.”

Laird Grant grinned at her, “And I see ye are as lovely…and bold as ever.”

Lady Davina smiled. “Thank ye, Alpin. I assure ye, this is important. Margaret had an accident shortly after arriving here. She was thrown from her horse.” At his frown, she said, “She wasn’t seriously injured, but she hit her head and she has lost her memories.”

He frowned at Maggie. “Margaret, what have ye done? Have ye led the Carr’s down this path hoping Laird Carr will send ye home? I assure ye, lass, if he does, I will not be pleased.”

Logan rushed to defend her. “Laird Grant, it’s true.”

“Then ye do want to set her aside?” roared Laird Grant.

Logan actually laughed. “Nay, Laird, I don’t. We’ve grown very fond of each other and I fully intend to marry her. But she remembers nothing of her life before coming here.”

Again Margaret’s father turned on her, “Margaret, if ye’ve been lying, now is the time to tell me the truth and avoid disgracing me and yer clan even more.”

Maggie was a bit taken aback. “I’m not lying…” Maggie wasn’t sure what to call him but settled on, “…Da.”

“Da?” Laird Grant looked shocked. “Ye’ve never called me ‘Da’. Twas ‘papa’ when ye wanted something and ‘father’ otherwise.”

Maggie didn’t know what to say. “I-I’m sorry. Would ye prefer I call ye ‘father’?”

Clearly bewildered, Laird Grant shook his head. “Nay, lass, ‘Da’ is fine.”

“I’m not lying, Da. I am sorry this happened. It was my fault. I ignored Logan’s warnings and brought about the accident myself.”

Laird Grant looked dumbfounded.

“Ye see, Alpin?” asked Lady Davina. “She’s…
different
.”

He nodded in wonderment. “Aye. I’d say she is.”

Lady Davina motioned toward the doors. “Join us in the hall then. I’m sure Maggie would like the chance to get to know ye better.”

“Maggie?”

“Aye, Alpin. Maggie. It suits her. Ye’ll see.”

Her father leveled a glare at her. “Maggie?”

“Ye can call me Margaret if ye wish,” Maggie offered.

He looked at Lady Davina again. “I don’t understand this.”

She smiled, “It took us all a while, but maybe seeing and talking with someone familiar will help her memory return.”

“Aye, maybe.” Laird Grant gave Maggie one last confused look before offering his arm to Lady Davina. “May I escort ye in then?”

Lady Davina smiled at him. “Certainly.” She accepted his arm, turning to walk into the keep.

Logan took Maggie’s arm, leading her into the hall as well. He took his place at the head of the table, sitting Maggie in the chair to his right, and Laird Grant next to her. Maggie felt oddly uncomfortable as the meal progressed. Margaret’s father asked probing questions, as if he were trying to discern if he was being lied to. She met each question with as honest an answer as possible.

Logan lost patience before she did. “Laird Grant, please, there is nothing to discover here. Maggie remembers very little of her past and she has changed. I adore her and I’m sure ye will find her charming. In fairness, do either of us have anything to complain about?” 

He blustered a moment before finally saying, “As long as ye are honoring the contract, I guess not.”

Maggie breathed a sigh of relief and focused her attention on some of their other guests. She had managed to keep the visiting lairds and their ladies straight but she gave up trying to figure out who everyone else was. By the chilly response she received from some of the visitors, it was clear they had experienced Margaret before. However, news of her accident also circulated so others seemed willing to reserve judgment.

After the meal was cleared away, the music and dancing began. Maggie had learned quite a bit since St. John’s Eve, but she was hardly proficient. Still she enjoyed herself and would dance every dance if Logan didn’t pull her aside occasionally to rest.

Many of the dances required the dancers to rotate from one partner to the next. During one of these she found herself partnered briefly with a Grant guardsman. Just before he swung her to her next partner he whispered, “Margaret, the act ye’re pulling is brilliant.”

She didn’t have the opportunity to assure him it wasn’t an act. Ah well, everyone would realize it soon enough.

~*~

The next day Maggie spent much of the morning helping Logan’s mother see to the needs of their guests. But at midday Lady Davina said, “Maggie, dear, would ye mind going to check on Agnes please? She stayed in her chamber this morning because she was feeling a bit off. I want to make sure she’s well.”

“Of course, I will,” said Maggie.

When she arrived at Lady Agnes’ room, she knocked and then entered. “My lady, I understand ye aren’t feeling well.”

“Maggie, I think it is time ye stopped calling me
my lady
.”

“What would ye like me to call ye?”

“Agnes would be fine. Grandmother would be better.”

Maggie hugged her, “I would love to call ye Grandmother. Now, Grandmother, I understand ye aren’t feeling well.”

“Aye. I think I might have overindulged a bit on the berry tarts last evening. I love them, but they always cause me distress.”

Maggie suspected the berry seeds were the cause but there wasn’t much to do for it. “I can make a tisane out of mint and chamomile that might soothe ye a bit,” Maggie offered.

“Och, if ye think it would, I would be grateful.”

“I’ll just go fetch the herbs. I won’t be long.” Maggie hurried downstairs, out the back of the keep and into the kitchen garden. She smiled to herself as she remembered the first time she had been in this garden and Logan had explained why as her laird and betrothed he knew what was best for her. Normally she would have taken a moment to appreciate the beauty and peace of the garden, but she was anxious to get back to Agnes.

As she gathered the fresh mint and chamomile, she heard footsteps behind her. She turned and was surprised to see the Grant guardsman who had whispered to her the previous evening.

He hurried towards her, looking delighted. “Margaret, ye are positively brilliant, lass. I thought yer plan to play the shrew was excellent, but this is so much better. No one suspects a thing. We can leave tonight. Meet me just after midnight, near the stables and we will be away.”

Maggie stared at the young man, hardly able to believe what she was hearing. “I—I’m sorry?”

“Ye can drop the guise now. We’re alone, my love.”

Maggie saw the look of sincere adoration in his eyes and for the second time in as many days, she had flashes of memories that were not her own. Memories of being in this man’s arms. Like those of Margaret’s father, these memories were associated with strong emotions…love. Dear God, this man loved Margaret and she him. Maggie remembered her own pain when she learned that Elliott loved another. In an attempt to lessen that ache, she said, “I am so very sorry. I can tell ye have genuine feelings for me, but this isn’t an act. Truly, I don’t remember.”

“How is that possible? Did ye think up this ruse to try and fool me instead? Have ye decided ye want to be Lady Carr after all, instead of a banished guardsman’s wife?”

“Please, it isn’t my intention to hurt ye. Honestly, the accident happened and I don’t remember anything. I am so sorry.”

“Ye’re sorry? Nay lass, we love each other. Perhaps I should remind ye of just how much. He pulled her into his arms.

Maggie fought him. “Nay. Stop this. Please.”

He grabbed her face with both hands, kissing her brutally.

Maggie forced herself not to panic. She had taken self-defense classes in college and that training kicked in. She relaxed for a moment, waiting to feel him relax too. She put her left hand on his right elbow, and stepping into him slid her right hand up, between his arms and around his neck as if she were returning his caress.

~ * ~

Logan entered the great hall, looking for Maggie.

“She’s gone to fetch some herbs for yer grandmother. Ye’ll find her in the kitchen garden I expect,” said one of the serving women.

He left through the rear door, heading for the enclosed garden. When he reached the entrance he saw a Grant guardsman kissing Maggie, but worse, it appeared she was returning his embrace. Then, almost before Logan realized what was happening, Maggie turned her body into the man. She bent at the waist and with her right arm positioned around his neck, pulled him down onto her back. With one twisting move, she flipped him onto the ground, then before the stunned man could react, she kicked him in the groin. He curled his body, groaning in pain.

As the man writhed at her feet, she said, “I told ye, I don’t remember ye and I don’t love ye. And yer rough handling tells me ye don’t love me either. This time I will forget it, but don’t ever dare touch me again or Laird Carr will kill ye.”

Logan was at her side in an instant. “Laird Carr will kill ye anyway.”

Maggie threw her arms around him. “Oh, Logan, ye’re here.”

“Aye, love, and although that was rather impressive, I’ll take care of this cur.”

The man still rolled on the ground, groaning in agony.

“Nay, Logan, don’t hurt him. It seems Ma—I mean it seems I was fond of him…before. He thought to remind me of that. He won’t do it again.”

“That is for certain, because he won’t live to do it again.”

“Please Logan. He meant no harm. He thought—”

“He thought it was acceptable to touch my betrothed.”

Maggie pulled Logan’s arm, urging him away from the injured man and towards the garden entrance. She whispered, “Please Logan, I know what it’s like to have a broken heart. Don’t punish him more.”

Maggie’s heart was so gentle, how could he deny her? “Fine, I won’t hurt him, but neither will I tolerate his presence any longer. He will be escorted off Carr land immediately. Come with me and I’ll see to it.” He turned with her to walk towards the door in the wall.

What happened next was a blur.

Maggie turned her head to look back at the injured man. “
Nooooooo!
”

At her scream, Logan too started to turn, only to be hit in the chest with all the force Maggie’s small body could exert. He was knocked off balance as she fell in a heap at his feet, a dirk protruding from the left side of her back. In one fluid motion, Logan pulled his own dirk and sent it sailing. It landed with a sickening thud, hilt deep in the chest of the guardsman, who crumpled on the spot, dead.