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She flashed him a startled glance. “You heard?”
“Graeme overheard some talk about you and . . .”
“Roddy Murray.”
“Right. It was vague gossip, for the most part. But Graeme said it was enough to draw certain conclusions, if one had a mind to.”
It was time to come clean. Logan would hear the details sooner or later, either from Jeannie or from Mungo Murray himself.
“Mrs. MacArthur had a mind to,” Donella replied. “She said that although you wereherfirst, you would not bemyfirst.”
Logan spat out a string of curses that were quite shocking in their specificity.
When he finished, he gathered up both her hands. “Sweetheart, I am so sorry you had to bear such an ugly scene with her. I’ll be taking it up with both Jeannie MacArthur and Mungo Murray, because I’ve had just about enough of this.”
“No, Logan, you won’t.”
“Donella, I know you hate conflict, but—”
“I’d prefer to avoid more scenes and gossip.”
“Unfortunately, the cat is well out of the bag and must be dealt with. As soon as I drop you off, I’m going to hunt down Mungo Murray and shut him the hell up.”
She yanked a hand away and slapped it onto his chest. “You will do no such thing.”
He began to look exasperated. “These rumors will not go away, even after our betrothal is formally announced. In fact, they’re likely to get worse. I won’t have you subjected to insults any longer. You’re my—”
“But they’re not rumors.”
Logan frowned. “Well . . . of course they are. I’ve been with you, Donella. I remember our first time.”
Clearly, she’d done a splendid job of convincing him that she was an inexperienced maiden, and she hadn’t even been trying.
“Logan, I was not a . . .” She twirled a hand. “You know.”
He looked mystified. “No, I do not know.”
“A virgin,” she said through clenched teeth.
His features relaxed into a smile. “Of course not, daft girl. You’ve been with me.”
Were all men this dense, or was she supremely unfortunate?
“I was not a virgin when you . . .” Again, her nerve failed and she twirled her other hand.
His jaw sagged for a moment before clamping shut. She wondered if he’d be able to pry it open enough to respond.
“When I came to your bed that first night,” he finally said.
“Yes.”
He let go of her other hand.
“Say something,” she said after several fraught moments of silence.
His reply was soft and yet terrifying. “I am going to kill Mungo Murray, and then I am going to rip Roddy’s stupid head off and shove it down his neck.”
“No, you will not.”
