Page 26 of A Match Made in Heather

“I wish we could live here after we marry,” she commented wistfully. “But Ewan isn’t a highlander, and he doesn’t realize how important this place is to me. When he looks at Highburn, all he sees is rock-strewn land good for nothing but a handful of sheep, tenants so poor they can barely pay their rent, a house that’s falling down . . .” A smile tugged at her lips. “He thinks heather is a weed.”

Garrick frowned. “You don’t see all that?”

“I do,” she answered honestly. “But I also see so much more . . . I see the history of this place and of the entire Rowland clan. I see claymores once used to fight for Scottish freedom that were confiscated by the English, now returned to us not as weapons but as reminders of our history. I see tartan, once forbidden but now proudly displayed, representing all that our clan symbolizes, its struggles and successes. And I see its legacy, the greatness we once had and all that we can become again.” Her gaze drifted around the room. Although her eyes could see nothing in the dark shadows beyond the firelight, he knew her mind’s eye saw so much more. “Castle Highburnisclan Rowland.”

Her chin lifted with a touch of pride, her eyes shining. He realized at that moment why her family meant so much to her.

Not simply being connected by blood. Oh, so much more than that! It was her sense of worth among the enormity of the highlands, where a person could feel inconsequential in comparison to the mountains and fields of heather so vast that they stretched to the horizon, where above extended a sky so depthless that on clear days a person’s head swam just by gazing into it. A place filled with a history that stretched back before the Romans and made one believe that his life lasted no longer than a blink of an eye—that time would march on without him unless he grabbed on to his ancestry and held tight.

The highlands and clan Rowland had created and shaped her. They were her identity. Without them, she would feel that she was . . . nothing.

His heart skipped when he realized what their plans to elope must have seemed like to her. Not only the start of a future together, but a complete break with her past.

“Now I hold the future in my hands,” she whispered.

More than you realize.His heart somersaulted with a dull ache born of a decade’s separation from the woman it loved.

As if able to hear his thoughts, she gave him such a smile that it pulsed all the way through him. With her sitting so close that he could smell the scent of heather on her skin, her body warmed by the fire and in dishabille beneath the tartan throw, he longed for her. And for far more than physical pleasure, although at that moment he desperately wanted to lay her down and make love to her right there in the firelight. He wanted back the ten years her family had stolen from them, every smile he’d missed, every lilting laugh on the highland breezes, every soft word of love . . .

He wanted Arabel. The Rowlands be damned.

“IfI convince you to give me your half of Highburn,” she finished, completely unaware of the thoughts and emotions churning inside him.

He studied her closely. “What would you do with Highburn if it were all yours?”

She smiled with saccharine sweetness. “You mean, after I kick you off the property?”

“That’s a given.” He lifted a brow, then pressed, “What then?”

“I’d return it to its glory, to its rightful place as seat of clan Rowland.”

“I don’t think you can.” He shook his head. “The repairs will be too expensive, the profits from the land too small to afford them.”

“I didn’t mean the house. I meant our legacy.” She paused, barely a heartbeat, but he heard it. And he felt its impact like a bullet to his gut when she added, “Mama has already written to David to ask him to return to Scotland, to bring his American family to Highburn.”

He stiffened, sensing the unease inside her. “How toyoufeel about that, Arabel? About David living here as laird on your property?”

For a moment, she didn’t move. Then her slender shoulders slumped as she admitted, “I think she should have waited until everything was settled here first.”

“Then write to him yourself and tell him so,” he urged, deeply wishing for her sake that she’d stand up to them. “And your mother.”

She shook her head, and he realized exactly how much influence her family still possessed over her. Enough to let them attempt to take Highburn from her. “She isn’t wrong, though. Aunt Matilda, Mama and Aunt Ethel, David and his family—they can all live right here, and Ewan and I can visit.” A world of determination sounded in her soft voice. “And we’ll be true Rowlands again.”

He stared at her in the flickering firelight, attempting to take in all of her. He’d been given a gift tonight, a chance to glimpse her heart and understand why Highburn was so important to her, why she wanted her family returned to its glory. He understood, and he admired her for it.

But he wouldneverlet that happen.

She turned to gaze curiously at him, a new thought striking her. “What did Auntie mean earlier, when she said that you’d left out the beginning of your story?”

His heart slammed painfully against his breastbone. This was his moment to tell her everything. To reveal her family’s actions that night and finally exonerate himself in her eyes. She would learn the truth, that he hadn’t left of his own will. That he’d loved her—in truth,stillloved her. Always would.

And by doing so, to further damn her family in her eyes.

His gut knotted. What could be gained by telling her about events now best left to the past, except to cause her more pain?

“Nothing important,” he lied quietly, offering nothing more, not even when she frowned in disbelief.

With that, the evening was over. He stood and held out his hand to help her to her feet.