When a Scot Ties the Knot (Castles Ever After #3)(66)

Aunt Thea cupped her cheeks. “You are loved, my precious Madling. You always have been. Once you know and believe that in your heart, everything else will be clear.”

Logan kept his distance from Maddie for the next several days. It wasn’t easy staying away, but he didn’t see that there was anything to be gained from approaching her. She was already on the brink of leaving, and he didn’t have anything new to say.

He could only hope that time—-or perhaps the lingering threat of those letters—-changed her mind.

That seemed even less likely when on the afternoon of Beltane, he found her in the dining hall amid dozens of crates and boxes.

The table was covered with china, silver, glassware, linens, pewter candlesticks. And humbler items, too: pots and kettles, fireplace pokers, candles and small jars of spice.

He asked, “Are you having a tea party?”

“No,” Maddie said. “This isn’t a tea party. I’m building the men’s trousseaux.”

“Trousseaux?”

Her brow wrinkled. “Can men have trousseaux? I don’t rightly know. It doesn’t matter. When they move into the new cottages, they will need to set up house. They’ll be in need of these items.”

“Isn’t the castle in need of these items?”

“Not anymore.” She packed a pewter jug in straw. “I’m going home to my family. Someone ought to make use of these things.”

Logan set his jaw. It rankled him, the calm, matter--of--fact way she spoke of leaving. Not only leaving the castle but leaving him as well.

He followed her as she moved to the other end of the table, counting out equal piles of spoons.

“Do I get a parting gift, too?” he said, no doubt sounding more petulant and transparent than he would have liked. “Perhaps a side table and a pair of candlesticks?”

“Actually, I have something else in mind for you.”

“Oh really? What’s that?”

Her dark eyes met his. “I want you to have this.”

“What, a spoon?”

“No, this.” She tilted her head to glance at the vaulted ceiling. “The land. This castle. All of it.”

Logan stared at her. What was she saying? “Maddie, you can’t mean to—-”

“It’s already done.” She reached toward the center of the table and plucked an envelope from atop a pile of folded tablecloths. “I drew up the papers by copying the documents that transferred the property to me. Becky and Callum signed as witnesses. The news will have spread through the castle by now. By this evening, everyone will know.” She handed the envelope to him. “Lannair is yours.”

He took the envelope in his hand. He couldn’t do anything but stare at it.

“But that bargain you suggested . . . I didna hold up my end.”

“The truth is, Logan, it just doesn’t belong to me. It never did. I didn’t work for it. I have no attachment to the land. This place belongs to the Highlands. To the -people who’ve lived here for generations. To those whose ancestors piled the stones of this castle with their bare hands. And I can’t imagine a better person to watch over it.”

“I want no charity from you or anyone. I’ve worked for everything I’ve ever had.”

“Oh, I know that. I know well that accepting this will make you uncomfortable, and that’s part of my fun. I’m taking great pleasure in watching you squirm. For me, it’s a victory of sorts.”

And victory looked well on her.

“So when are you leaving?” he asked.

“Tomorrow. I plan to stay for the feast, of course. And for the bonfire tonight. We’ve all worked hard on the preparations. Even if I’m no longer the lady of the castle, and even if I won’t be your bride . . . I want to be there.”

“I want you there, too.”

I want you here always.

The words hovered on the tip of his tongue, but he didn’t speak them. It was too late. Too useless. In giving him this castle, she’d taken away his last bargaining chip. He didn’t have any worldly possessions or influence she hadn’t already refused.

Another man might have offered her something from within himself. His heart, perhaps. A certain warmth of emotion. Maybe even a dream. But Logan had forgotten how to dream, if he ever had known how.

And when he looked inside himself, he saw nothing but emptiness and cold.

He lifted the envelope. “Thank you for this.”

She nodded. “It’s been an honor to know you, Logan. I do hope you’ll understand if I don’t write.”



Chapter Twenty-two

Maddie found unexpected enjoyment in being a hostess. She found it far easier than being a guest. She was so busy keeping the ale flowing and monitoring the progress of dishes in and out of the kitchen that she could keep to the borders of the hall and duck out for a moment whenever the crowd became too much for her.

Most convenient of all, she scarcely had time to think about Logan. She saw him once or twice in passing. He greeted her with a brusque nod, but she didn’t pause to chat.

It seemed entirely likely that she might not speak to him again before she left in the morning.

Just as well. There just didn’t seem to be anything left to say.

When afternoon was waning, everyone pushed back from the tables lining the High Hall and walked, full bellies and all, up to the highest peak overlooking the loch.