When a Scot Ties the Knot

She flung her arms overhead and sighed. The gesture did incredible things for her breasts. “Now you’re suddenly full of scruples?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I am.”

“Logan. This is what you wanted. What you demanded and threatened to ruin me to get.”

“You’re only upset right now because of what happened back there. I know you’re disappointed, mo chridhe.”

She reached for him. “Then make it better. It would be no sacrifice to give up my work if this were a real marriage in every sense. One with love. A family. We could have that together, Logan.”

Jesus. So now he had to promise he could be worth giving up everything for? He couldn’t do that. He didn’t know how to replace her career, a family, a community of colleagues and friends. It was impossible.

He wouldn’t be enough. She’d grow to resent him.

And then she’d leave.

“We don’t have to lie to anyone. We could make this all the truth. Tonight. Don’t you care for me at all?”

Of course he cared for her, and more than a bit. The truth was, he cared for her too much. He just couldn’t take her dreams away. Not like this.

“We’ll find another way,” he said.

It was the wrong thing to say.

“We’ve been through this, Logan. Or did you forget? You have rejected every one of my ideas. Including this one, mortifyingly enough.” She rose to a sitting position and buried her face in her hands. “I feel like such a fool.”

“I just can’t give you what you’re asking,” he said. “I’ve told you that from the start. Love and romance . . . it’s just not in me.”

“I refuse to believe that. I know that’s not true.” Her dark eyes flashed with anger. “You’re the most caring, loyal man I’ve ever known. I see it in the way you treat your men, the tenants. Even my aunt. I’m the only one who can’t seem to inspire your devotion.”

“That’s not fair. And you know it’s untrue. I would protect you with my life.”

“But I’ll never have your heart. Will I?”

He didn’t know how to answer her.

She rose from the bed and went to the dressing table. “I’m done with this. I’m done dreaming of you.” She yanked at the tartan sash draped across her torso, pulling open the luckenbooth brooch and holding it in her outstretched palm. “I want the truth. Who was she, this A.D.?”

“I’ve told you. It’s not important.”

“It’s important to me! I’ve been wearing this day in, day out. A heart-­shaped lie on my chest for everyone to see. I accepted it as my due. A mark of shame that I’d brought on myself by deceiving everyone. But now I want to know the truth. Did you love her?”

“Maddie . . .”

“It’s a simple question, Logan. No explanations necessary. Just one word will suffice. Yes or no. Did you love her?”

“Yes,” he answered.

“A great deal?”

“As much as I knew how. It wasn’t enough.”

“So she left you.”

He nodded.

“Clever woman.”

Logan winced. “Perhaps she was. I was holding her back.”

And he would be holding back Maddie, too. She had far more than sketches to offer the world. She had a gentle heart and abundant love. The wish to raise a family. All of these were things he couldn’t bring himself to accept.

She would be wasted on him.

“So even though she left you, and even after all this time,” she said, “you’ve never been able to forget her.”

He shook his head in honest answer. “No.”

She tossed the luckenbooth toward him, and it landed on the rumpled quilt. “Take it back. I don’t want to wear it anymore. I’m leaving.”

“Wait.” He pushed to his feet. “It’s scarcely a week until Beltane. Whatever arrangement we work out between us, I need you to be there that night.”

“You just rejected me. What makes you think I have any interest in striking some kind of agreement with you?”

“Do I need to remind you about the letters?”

“Those stupid letters.” She choked on a wild laugh. “They don’t even matter anymore. Go ahead, send them to the scandal sheets. What do I have left to lose? I’ve no employment prospects to protect. No romantic prospects, either. I’m accustomed to public humiliation. Loneliness, too. I can’t be any more isolated than I have been living here.”