“Look around you, Maura. Does it look as if we’ve been cursed?”
“And can you say with certainty that no ill has befallen your family?”
“No more than any other.”
“What of your father? You told me how he suffered, Alec. How you watched him die little by little, more and more with each day.”
“That had nothing to do with your Circle of Light. And aye, my mother lost three children. But that, too, was fate.” He made a gesture of impatience. “Chance. Destiny. It wasn’t because of any curse.”
“You said your sister and cousin were caught out on the loch one night. Everyone was frantic. They might have died, Alec.”
“But they didn’t.” He dismissed it. “It was a freak storm.”
“I promised my father, Scotsman. I promised him I would find the Circle of Light and bring it home—home so our people would no longer suffer—so the land is green and fertile and flourishes as it once did. Help me,” she implored. “Help me, that I may return home and put an end to this curse once and for all.”
Alec got to his feet. “You may have married me to find some ancient Celtic relic that may or may not exist. But that doesn’t change the fact that you are my wife,” he declared with a touch of arrogance. “I told you earlier you could return to Ireland whenever you wished. I would never begrudge you that. But this is your home now, Maura. Gleneden is your home.”
Maura’s heart pinched. Her head bowed low. “No,” she said painfully. “Ireland is my home. Ireland…not Gleneden.”
There was a thundering silence.
Alec’s eyes flickered. “It no longer matters how or why we married. It cannot be undone. I am your husband. You are my wife.”
She shook her head. “No,” she said. “No.”
Catching her elbows, he brought her to her feet. “What the devil! Do you mean to tell me there is more you’ve withheld from me?”
Maura’s nerves were screaming, but her heart went very still.
“Aye,” she said faintly.
His expression was forbidding. Utterly fierce. She closed her eyes to shut out the sight of it.
But there was no solace. No sanctuary. No hiding anymore.
She swallowed. “Alec,” she whispered. “We are not wed.”
Chapter Eighteen
The silence that followed was brittle. Brutal.
He released her.
Her eyes opened. There was no evading his. He stared at her, his features fierce. The touch of his eyes was an icy blue, as chilling as the northern seas. One look from those icy blue eyes sent a shiver running through her—but hardly one of delight.
Maura felt cut to the bone. It was all she could do to brave such chilling regard. Alec was again the peremptory duke.
His mouth was a taut, straight line. “Explain yourself, if you please.”
Her pulse clamored. She discovered she was shaking inside and out. Damn the man, but he could be quite intimidating when he chose!
“Deacon O’Reilly…Murdoch found him. You were right, you see. We—I—paid him to perform the ceremony. But he had no authority to preside over our wedding. Over any wedding.He was stripped of all privileges in the Church when he was discovered stealing from the church fund.”
He offered no reply. Maura had the fleeting sensation he didn’t dare speak.
That he was furious, there was no question. His lips were ominously thin. His quiet fury was almost worse than if he’d shouted. She had never realized that quiet could be so unnerving.
She swallowed. “It was never meant to come this far.”
