She emerged from the parlor, a puzzled look on her face. “Garrett, what’s wrong—”
He clasped her elbow and dragged her back into the room, slamming the door shut with his boot. “Is. She. Mine?” His voice dripped with fury.
Abbie paled. “You’ve seen her?”
“Yes. I ask again: Is. She. Mine?” he hissed through gritted teeth.
Tears shone in Abbie’s eyes. “Yes. Megan is your daughter.”
He moaned and covered his face with his hands. My God, he had a daughter. A daughter. All these years… He’d had no idea. No inkling. His insides churned like a ship caught in a vicious storm. Megan. What a beautiful name.
“I…did not want you to find out like this. I wanted to reveal it gradually,” Abbie stuttered.
His emotions ran the gambit from agonized shock to raw anger. “How could you not tell me?” he roared.
Abbie frowned. “After the way we parted? You sent me away. Said you never wanted to see me again. I hated you. Why would I tell you? I never even told my parents who the father was. I refused. There were a lot of tears and recriminations. Our relationship to this day is strained. I haven’t seen them in years.” Abbie gulped deeply. “They made it plain they were ashamed of me. Called me a harlot and accused me of being immoral for indulging in a scandal with a sinful man. They arranged a marriage with a family acquaintance.” Her words came out in a heated, emotional rush. A tear trickled down her cheek and she dashed it away. “It was either marry Dr. Elwyn Hughes or be turned into the streets. They would have done it, as my parents are exceedingly pious.”
Garrett could not stop himself from grasping her upper arms and giving her a shake. “You should have come to me. I would have married you. Do you hear me? I would have done the right thing.” His voice rose with each word, not necessarily with anger, but with an aching pain that cut straight to his heart.
“After all you said about the curse? Not wanting anything to do with me or any woman? I had been humiliated and hurt enough. Be damned if I would show up on your doorstep only to be rejected again. I had too much pride. I still do. Yet here I am. I couldn’t stay away.” Her eyes flashed with a mixture of resentment and sadness.
Garrett learned his forehead against hers. “Damn you,” he whispered fiercely. “For upending my life. Damn you for not telling me.”
“The complete arrogance. You upended mine. Thank God Elwyn was a decent man who loved Megan as if she were his own. We decided that we would tell her about you when she turned sixteen. But then Elwyn died of a heart ailment. I thought perhaps I would never tell her. What purpose would it serve? Then you appeared in Standon.” Abbie exhaled a shaky breath. “Fate. It is fate. I knew then that you must be told. Despite the way we parted, you deserved to know.”
He pushed her away, sick to his core. “I deserved to know the moment you discovered you’d conceived. Talk about arrogance. How could you do this to us? You did not have to go through this alone.”
“I did not go through it alone. I had Elwyn. He stood by me. Besides, you made your feelings perfectly clear. The truth is that I didn’t want you in my life, nor did I wish you to be Megan’s father. Think about it: we were no more than children. We acted recklessly. Not once did we take precautions or even discuss that there could be consequences. Never did you say the words: ‘If you become pregnant, contact me.’ Not. Once. So to hell with you.”
He stared at her, surprised at how deeply the words sliced at his heart. “But you tell me now? I am to be a prisoner of your whims? To hell with you.”
Flame crackled to life in her brown eyes. She marched toward him until they were merely inches apart. Her redolent wildflower scent surrounded him, making him dizzier than he felt already. “How dare you.” She poked him in the chest as she had many years ago. “It was my body, my decision. I decided what was best for me and my unborn child. Do I marry a kind, generous, older man who promised to give a good home to me and my baby, or do I choose a stubborn, cruel, young man who cannot even acknowledge his feelings? Who clings to an ancient curse in order to keep his emotions at bay?” Her voice rose with each sentence. No doubt the entire household could hear them. “Your daughter lives. I am alive and well. No curse has taken us. We are the proof that the curse does not exist. Chew on that salient bit of truth.”
Could she be right? Damn it all, he couldn’t think straight. Clings to an ancient curse in order to keep his emotions at bay. Surely he wasn’t that much of a cruel jackass. The emotions swirling between them were suffocating. He pushed her away once again. “Stop bloody poking me. I didn’t like it then; I like it even less now.”
“It’s either that or I kick your stubborn arse,” she yelled.
The anger between them boiled with intensity. All the poisonous thoughts that they’d kept bottled up the past several years rushed out in a furious wave. “Why not slap my arrogant face as you did before? Do I not deserve it? Besides coming here to reveal the truth about my daughter, you came here to yell and rail at me. And to punish me for turning you away. To rub my face in what I’ve missed these past years.” Garrett took a step closer. “In what you have denied me.”
She crossed her arms and her frown deepened. “You think me so petty that I would come all this way to exact revenge? You do not know me at all.”
No, he didn’t know her. They had spent most of their secret meetings making love, not talking and becoming acquainted. “And you don’t know me if you believe that I would not have taken responsibility for our actions. I would have. In a heartbeat.” Christ, his eyes welled with tears. Be damned if he would shed them. “I would have loved my daughter as I loved you. I was not even given the chance.”
Abbie turned away. The anger rushed out of the room with an audible whoosh. Exhaustion took its place. It felt as if he’d been put through a wringer. No doubt Abbie experienced the same, going by the slump of her shoulders.
“Where did you see her?” Abbie asked, her voice subdued.
“I caught her and Jonas in the gatehouse, kissing. Very ardently, I may add. In actuality, I found Megan…your…our fourteen-year-old daughter—she is fourteen?” Abbie turned to face him and nodded. “I found her sitting on Jonas’s lap, kissing him far more enthusiastically than she should. He is twenty-four, and, from what I observed, reacted physically, as a young man would to a passionate kiss. It was plain to see, as he had removed his coat.”
Abbie’s hands flew to her cheeks. “Oh, no.”
“I heard the conversation. She said she loves him, that in a few years they will be married. She can’t be around him. Can’t be anywhere near him. Surely you must agree.”
A knock. The door opened and Megan peered in. She had removed her bonnet and her long red hair fell to her shoulders. Garrett stepped away from Abbie. God, his daughter. The resemblance in their physicality was stark indeed, including the eye color and abundance of freckles. But he could see Abbie there as well, in the shape of the face, the jawline, the contour of her mouth. His heart tumbled at the sight of her. “I heard yelling. Is he upsetting you, Mama?” Megan glared at him accusingly.
“The conversation became a little…emotional. I am fine. Come in, Megan. Come meet your father.”
The girl glowered at him, a mulish expression on her face. No doubt as stubborn as both her parents. She stepped into the room, closing the door behind her. “My father died close to two years ago.” Yes. Stubborn. Already he adored her. “I am sorry, sir, but I will not call you Father.”
Garrett nodded. “I understand.” He did, but her matter-of-fact statement hurt nonetheless. “Your mother told me Dr. Hughes was a good man. I’m heartily glad he was in your life, and thankful he was your da. I certainly don’t wish to take his place, but I would like us to get to know each other.” He removed his glove and held out his hand. “I am Garrett Wollstonecraft. It is nice to meet you, Megan Hughes.”
Unshed tears glittered in Abbie’s eyes as she watched the exchange. Hell, he felt like crying as well. Megan took tentative steps toward him. He did have an imposing physical presence, and he certainly didn’t want the lass to be afraid of him. She slipped her slender hand in his. “Hello, Mr. Wollstonecraft.” Her tone was cool, but polite. Perhaps it was the best that he could hope for under the circumstances.
Garrett clasped her hand with both of his. “When you are comfortable, call me Garrett. Will you?”
She shrugged, clearly flustered. The awkwardness between them was noticeable. And because of it, it was best he made his exit. He released Megan’s hand and slipped his glove on. “I should make for home. I need to inform the family of these developments.”
“Yes, of course,” Abbie murmured.
“If you will allow, I would like to return tomorrow morning in order for us to continue our conversation.” Abbie nodded. “Then I will see you about nine o’clock.” He bowed slightly, then exited the room, though his legs trembled with each step he took.