The Pocket Watch (8 page)

She watched him leave, knowing there would be no
later
. “Good bye, Logan.”

~*~

After leaving his betrothed in her chamber, Logan made his way back to the solar. He wasn’t sure what made him kiss her. He never had before. Her response thrilled him, making his step and his heart lighter than they had been in days. He had come to believe a lifetime married to Margaret would be little better than an eternity spent in hell.
Maggie
, however, was a different story.

When he went to her chamber his only goal had been to come to an agreement by which they could live together without suffering unbridled hatred. At the time he hadn’t believed she had so thoroughly lost her memories. Furthermore, the drastic change in her personality led him to think either her shrewishness or her sweetness was a mask. Regardless, Margaret must have truly hated the idea of marrying him if she could resort to either.

But as they talked it became obvious she was telling the truth about her memory and perhaps the sweetness was her true nature. The fact that she had effectively hidden it with dreadful behavior distressed him a bit. Still with the mask gone now, he thought perhaps they had a chance at happiness together.

After the kiss at her door, for the first time since meeting her he dared to hope for more.
Maggie
was a woman he could come to love.

~ * ~

Maggie sat cross-legged in the middle of the beautiful bed with the open pocket watch in her hand. She had been here one day and the hand had progressed one second, just as Gertrude had said it would. Yesterday had been Elliott’s wedding, the twenty-first day of June, both in her own century and this one. She had until the twentieth day of August, fifty nine days.

Had it really only been a day since she had reawakened the pain and sorrow of Elliott’s betrayal by attending his wedding? It seemed a lifetime ago that she had sobbed in Gertrude’s arms, eventually uttering those fateful words
Sometimes I wish I could have someone else’s life
. Well here she sat, in the middle of someone else’s ruined life. Perhaps Margaret hadn’t thought it through, but unchecked, her actions had been destined to cause a war. Even if the accident hadn’t happened, deep down, Maggie knew Margaret would have stopped at nothing to prevent the wedding.

Maggie also firmly believed Gertrude had known what lay in store. Perhaps she had only been trying to help Maggie put her own problems in perspective. Still, from where Maggie sat now, popping her soul into a life where she would be unable to prevent a terrible outcome seemed to be a pretty cruel lesson.

Gertrude had said she had nothing to lose.

Like hell
. Her heart ached worse than ever. “Why did ye do this?” she said aloud. “Why put me in this hopeless situation?”

A little voice inside Maggie said,
because it isn’t hopeless
.

Then Maggie remembered Gertrude’s specific words,
Truly, ye have nothing to lose and perhaps the opportunity to do a bit of good
.

Could she do a bit of good? Was it possible? Was this something she could change?

Exactly when was the wedding to be? The Feast of the Assumption was on the fifteenth of August. Logan said the wedding was three days later, making it just barely inside her window to return home. Maggie knew she would never be able to change Logan’s mind, but if she stayed until Margaret’s clan arrived, maybe she could convince her father to set the betrothal aside. Or, barring that, go back to her original plan of staging Margaret’s death to occur in the presence of her father, so no suspicion would fall on the Carrs.

It was a tight window, and while she feared it wouldn’t work, there was no harm in trying if there was even the slightest chance of preventing a bloody feud. She might not be able to stop the inevitable, but she would have given it her best.

She sighed. Her eggs benedict would have to wait a while.

With that decision made, Maggie climbed off the bed and searched for a place to hide the pocket watch. She opened the wardrobe and was overwhelmed once again by the sheer volume of garments Margaret owned. Considering a maid had to help her dress and undress and was responsible for putting her dresses away, Maggie thought it might be better to hide it in a shoe. Margaret had quite a few pairs of shoes as well but Maggie found one pair with extraordinarily long toes that curled up. The toes were so long they were stuffed with wool to help hold their shape. Maggie couldn’t imagine ever wearing them. She pulled out some of the wool, tucked the watch in, replaced the wool and stuck the shoes in the very back of the wardrobe.

As promised, Logan escorted her to dinner in the great hall that evening. She felt a bit of the awe and excitement she had experienced in her first few hours there, but it was tempered a bit by the disapproval she felt from the clan members present. Ah well, she supposed Margaret deserved their contempt, but Maggie vowed to do what she could over the next few weeks to repair her reputation.

Chapter 7

Logan woke just after sun-up the next morning. He lay in bed for several minutes, contemplating the bizarre turn of events that began with the accident. He had been suspect of Margaret’s motives initially. But now that he believed her, he needed to consider all of the implications.

The first thing he realized was, where Maggie was concerned he could make no assumptions. While her memory loss was profound, it was not complete. It wasn’t as if her mind was a total blank. She could walk and talk and communicate as well as before. In fact, she understood Latin, which she had previously pretended not to. She was poised, well-mannered and had a deep sense of right and wrong—so much so that she repeatedly appeared ashamed of, and apologized for her previous behavior. On the other hand, she didn’t remember the hours of the day, much less grasp the nature of a betrothal or clan politics. She also had some fool notion about love in her head which he simply did not understand.

One of his biggest concerns was the way his clan had reacted to her. Margaret had been arrogant and mean-spirited but not openly abusive. In her first few days at Castle Carr he had made it abundantly clear he wouldn’t tolerate that. Afterwards, she had held herself apart, avoiding any interaction with the clan unless absolutely necessary.
She saved all her venom for me
, he thought wryly.

Still, regardless of her personality, she was a noblewoman and his betrothed, so he could not allow his clan to show her disrespect either, but at dinner they had come perilously close. Today he would make certain the clan knew his expectations. It would only take a few well-chosen comments to the right people for word to disseminate.

Since it had been fairly obvious before yesterday that he could barely tolerate Margaret, he also needed to ensure his actions towards Maggie left no room for misinterpretation.

He was drawn from his thoughts by a knock at the door. “Enter.”

His squire, David, poked his head in. “Laird, Freya is here and wishes to speak with ye urgently about Lady Margaret.”

Logan frowned. “I’ll get dressed.”

“Aye, Laird.” The lad pulled the door shut.

Logan took only a moment to put on his clothes before admitting Freya.

“What’s so urgent, lass?” Logan prayed silently that the old Margaret hadn’t returned.

“Laird, I just thought ye should know, Lady Margaret was up very early this morning. She wanted to go to the great hall to break her fast and so I took her. But when we got there…it was uncomfortable.”

“What happened? Was anything said?”

“Well, not directly, but folks glared at her and whispered unkind things. I heard them, so I expect Lady Margaret did as well.”

“What did she do?”

“Ye’ll never believe this Laird, but she asked if she could sit with me…I wouldn’t have minded but I didn’t think it was proper.”

“Did she go back to her chamber? I’ll go see her there.”

“Nay Laird. She said she wasn’t hungry, it was a fine morning and she wanted to get a bit of air.”

“She left the keep? Alone?”

“Aye, Laird. I offered to go with her but she bade me stay. I came up here straight away to tell ye.”

He swore and Freya’s eyes went wide. “I’m not upset with ye, lass, ye did well. I’m just sorry this happened, and I need to go find her now.”

Moments later he was down the stairs and out of the keep. Several people reported seeing her walk towards the kitchens. She had said something about eating in the kitchen yesterday, but after what his grandmother had said he couldn’t imagine Maggie had gone there. He checked anyway. She wasn’t there but one serving lass had seen her go into the enclosed herb garden behind the kitchens.

He hadn’t realized how worried he was until he felt overwhelming relief at seeing her sitting under an old gnarled apple tree which grew at the back corner of the garden.

He walked toward her, taking several deep breaths before asking, as calmly as he could, “What are ye doing out here?”

She smiled at him. “Just enjoying the morning.”

He nodded, but the lightness in her tone sounded forced. “I see.” He sat down beside her. “Have ye already eaten yer morning meal?”

“Nay.”

“Why?”

“I didn’t want to.”

“Evidently, but why didn’t ye want to? And don’t tell me it is because ye aren’t hungry. That’s no truer today than it was yesterday.”

She shook her head. “It isn’t important, Logan.”

He considered her for a moment. “I think it is. Freya told me what happened.”

Maggie sighed. “It isn’t their fault. Mar—that is to say, I brought this on. It will take time. I just didn’t have the courage to face it this morning.”

Of all the things he could have imagined she might say, this would not have been among them. She was showing compassion for his clan—essentially protecting them from his ill will—in a manner befitting a chieftain’s wife. He took her hand in his. “Maggie, I am pleased that ye acknowledge yer part in this and that ye’ve changed. But even before, by virtue of yer status, I would not have allowed my clan to show ye such a lack of respect.”

“But Lo—”

“Nay, let me finish. I also accept that while ye changed in an instant, ye’re the only one who has forgotten everything. Ye’re right, it will take time and perhaps courage. But I don’t expect ye to do it alone. I didn’t this morning—ye were just up before me.” He glanced sideways at her. “Another change I might add.” She smiled and shrugged. “However, beginning today, I will make certain the clan knows my feelings toward ye have changed. I will escort ye to all meals and I plan to spend some more time becoming acquainted.”

She frowned. “I don’t want to go riding.”

He laughed as he stood up. “We don’t have to go riding to spend time together.” He reached a hand out to her. “Come inside with me now and break yer fast.”

She frowned. “I think I’d rather just stay here.”

He arched a brow at her “I don’t recall giving ye an option.”

She put her hands on her hips and glowered up at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’m yer laird, and yer betrothed and I’ve asked ye to eat yer morning meal with me.”

“What? Wait, are ye saying I have to do what ye ask just because yer my…yer my…all of those things?”

Clearly this was another hole in her memory. “Yes Maggie, I’m yer laird and yer betrothed and I generally know what’s best for ye.”

She looked outraged. “Surely ye jest. Does being my
laird
and my
betrothed
give ye some special ability to know what’s
best for me
? Or is that just because ye’re a man?” But even as she blustered at him, she took his hand and stood up. If this was “angry Maggie” he found it rather adorable.

He brushed her cheek with his fingertips. “Nay, Maggie. Being yer laird gives me the responsibility to pay attention to yer needs and see they are met whether ye wish to recognize them or not. Being yer betrothed does the same thing but it also makes me want to try to please ye. Being a man? Well that just gives me the ability to appreciate how very beautiful ye are as well as the desire to spend more time in yer company.”

~*~

Holy God
. Did he just say that? Has there ever been a woman born who wouldn’t melt at those words? She just stared at him. What had she been pissed off about?

He smiled at her. “Now, we’ll go have our morning meal.”

Oh, that was it. He’d asked her—no required her—to have breakfast with him. Thinking on it now, that was a stupid thing to be pissed off about. In fairness, he was right, she was hungry. She took the arm he offered and walked with him to the great hall.

Both Logan’s mother and grandmother were already at the refectory table.

“Ah, Logan, I wondered where ye were. There is much to do today.”

“Aye, Mother, I will see to the preparations outside.”

“What preparations?” asked Maggie.

“It’s St. John’s Eve, dear,” explained Lady Davina.

“What happens on St. John’s Eve?” Maggie noticed that several people within hearing distance rolled their eyes.

“Ah, sweetling,” said Logan, “it’s a huge celebration. There will be bonfires and dancing until the wee hours of the morning.”

“And then a great feast tomorrow,” added his grandmother.

“Really?” asked Maggie, excited. “Everyone goes?”

“Aye, everyone,” answered Logan.

A guardsman named James who sat several seats to Maggie’s left muttered, “Everyone whose
ears won’t bleed
listening to our
pitiful musicians
.”

Maggie felt the heat rise in her face.

“Is something wrong, dear?” asked Lady Davina.

Maggie shook her head and, forcing a smile, said, “Nay, my lady.”

But Logan looked past her down the table. “James, what was that?”

“Laird, I was just commenting on how Lady Margaret enjoyed the music at Pentecost.”

Logan arched an eyebrow. “Which is to say, not at all if I remember correctly. However, there have been some changes since then. What hasn’t changed is that Lady Margaret is a noblewoman and my betrothed. Anyone who fails to remember that going forward will answer to me.”