Just as she stepped back, panting from the effort of pushing the weight alone, she heard a knock.
“Heather? Can we talk?”
“No!” she shouted back. “What is there to talk about?”
“I can think of about ten thousand things!” he snapped back. “If we’re going to keep you free of your uncle, I need to know a lot more about him. With a prize that big, he won’t give up easily. I assumed he’d lurk about for a few days and go back home to sulk. But this is much more serious now.”
“And once he’s gone, then what? You’ll take charge and keep me as a wife so you get my money?”
There was dead silence from the other side of the door. Heather bit her lip, wishing she hadn’t said that. But it was too late. She had plainly stated her worst fear, and got nothing from Niall to allay it.
After a tortuously long time, Niall’s voice came through, low and angry. “Is that what you think of me?”
“I don’t know what to think of you! I’m not some little bird you rescued out of the kindness of your heart anymore. Now I’m an easy way to riches.Andwhat of Brenna?”
“What of her?” He sounded genuinely confused.
“I saw you kissing her!”
“Youwhat? I’ve not kissed Brenna since we were thirteen years old, and that was at Christmas!”
“I know what I saw.”
“Darling, I swear to you that’s impossible.”
“So now you’re calling me delusional.”
“No, I’m saying there must be another explanation.”
“Or perhaps you want one woman for money and another for pleasure. Which makes you very common indeed!”
Niall was quiet for another long moment. When he spoke again, it was only to say, “I’ll let you be.”
She heard his footsteps fading, and wished she could call him back. She hadn’t meant to snap at him like that, she was just so dreadfully upset.
Heather flung herself on her bed, staring up at the plastered ceiling. She thought back to the years as her uncle’s ward. He’d deliberately fostered a belief that they were not wealthy. All the times he’d used a lack of funds as an excuse to not allow her to purchase fabric for a new gown, or visit a friend, or even request the cook serve beef more than once a week. Had he been siphoning off her income already, even before enacting his plan to marry her off and steal the rest? And the whole time, Heather accepted it like a meek little lamb. She’d always prided herself on her independent nature, her desire to know and learn and see the world. But in the end, she was revealed to be as weak and naive as any girl, unable to direct her own fate. Heather rolled onto her side, clutched a pillow to her chest, and cried.
A few hours later, she woke from a troubled sleep, unrested and unhappy. She sat up in bed. It was now past sunset, and the room was full of shadows. She got up and went to light a candle on the desk.
In the warm glow of the candlelight, she looked around the room that had become a cell of her own choosing. She noticed a white square near the hallway door—someone had slid something through the gap. She walked over to pick it up, and found a folded note from Maeve.
Heather —
I know you are terribly upset, and you need some time to yourself. But when you are ready, you will find us all happy to see you and here to help you.
—Maeve
P.S. Niall says that he’s posted a man to watch your window every hour of the day and night, so don’t attempt to make another rope out of dresses and leave that way.
Heather didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. Was her whole past now fodder for the MacNairs to mock? Though Maeve wasn’t mocking, she was simply informing Heather that a dramatic escape would not work this time. In fact, the note was very sweet of Maeve. But Heather was definitely not ready to come out and face the family, possibly ever. So here she would remain.
Her stomach gurgled slightly. She’d had only a scone for tea, and it must be near time for supper. Sitting down on the chair near the little fireplace, she contemplated the stack of logs near the hearth, which Susan or one of the other maids had refilled that morning. At least she wouldn’t freeze. The fire had been laid as well, so all Heather had to do was hold the candle to the kindling.
When the flames caught and leapt merrily, she stood up and started pacing the room. What had she got herself into? Was there now any chance for her to lead an independent life? It wasn’t that she disliked Niall—quite the opposite. But to be attached to a man for life just because she got alittlebit married to him…it wasn’t fair.
Looking out the window, she surveyed the landscape, which was rapidly growing dusky. The sky still held light—a purply, pinkish glow—but the trees turned to charcoal sketches and the hills mere rounded lines. She couldn’t see anyone on watch in the buildings or on the walls within her view. But she didn’t doubt they were there. Niall wouldn’t bluff about such a thing.
She turned to the room again. There were worse places to be trapped. It was well-furnished, cheerful, and just for her. A stack of books on one corner of her desk would provide plenty of diversion, though Heather chafed at any confinement, and she already wanted to be outside, among the trees and lakes. No, she was certainly too restless to read at the moment.
