Page 74 of Kidnapped by a Rogue
Despite her complimentary words, he had an inkling this conversation might not be leading to the two of them rolling around on the bed. But that was all right. He could be patient. She was worth waiting for.
“No need to be nervous,” he said, glancing at her clenched hands. “’Tis just me.”
“I think it’s best I leave,” she blurted out.
“Leave?” Finn could barely get the word out. “What in the hell do ye mean, leave?”
“I want ye to take me to my sister Sybil’s,” Margaret said. “She’s married to the MacKenzie.”
“Ye never told me ye had a sister with the MacKenzies,” he said, though her failure to mention that was the least of his concerns.
“I didn’t tell ye about Sybil because she’s all the way at Eilean Donan Castle, and I knew ye couldn’t take me before.” Margaret paused and licked her lips. “But now that you’ve proved yourself and the earl is so grateful to ye for saving Alex, I thought—I hoped—ye could take me.”
Her sister. The MacKenzie. His mind was making no sense of the words.
“Are ye leaving me?” he asked.
Finn told himself not to assume the worst, but when she would not meet his eyes, fear like he’d never known on the battlefield clutched at his stomach.
“Ye can hardly call it leaving ye when we’re not truly married,” she said.
“Ye can’t mean it,” he said, gripping her arms. “Look at me and say it.”
When she raised her gaze to his, her brown eyes were damp, but her voice was firm. “I have to go.”
He was suddenly sober—and wished to God he was not. How could she leave him now that he wanted her so much? He’d begun to think she actually cared for him.
“Staying will only make us both miserable in the end,” she said.
“Don’t speak for me,” he bit out. “But if you’re set on leaving, I’ll take ye.”
If she thought he’d beg her to stay, she was mistaken. He’d salvage what little pride he had left. He should not be angry with her, but he was.
He was angry that she did not think he was good enough. Angry that she was not willing to sacrifice a life of servants and fine things to be with him. Angry that she would not give him a chance to prove he could make her happy despite all he lacked.
Her decision may be practical and wise. But it was still wrong.
“I’d take ye right now—tonight, if I could,” he said. “But I need to speak with my uncle.”
“Of course,” she murmured, dropping her gaze to her laced fingers.
“I’m sure he’ll grant me leave to go,” Finn said. “I promised to hunt for that stag with Alex tomorrow. But first thing the next morning, I’ll take you—and Ella.”
It tore at his heart to realize he was losing Ella as well, which made him all the angrier that Margaret would do this. He slammed the door as he left.
###
Margaret brushed the tears from her cheeks and pulled the satchel out from underneath the bed. She hated to leave, but the longer she stayed, the harder it would be to go. Finn deserved a woman who could give him many children. He would make such a wonderful father.
She wondered where he slept last night after storming out and slamming the door. If she stayed, she would spend countless restless nights and long, long afternoons wondering who he was with. She had no faith she could keep his interest or weather his disappointment when she failed to give him the sons that every man wanted. Leaving was the only thing she could do.
When she heard the chamber door open, she looked over her shoulder to see Una standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips.
“What are ye doing, lass?” Una asked in a tone that could only be called disgusted.
“I’m packing,” Margaret said, and returned to the task.
“What’s Finn done?” Una asked.
