Lottie smiling from across a breakfast room table, her eyes alight as she recounted a book she had been reading.
Lottie laughing hysterically, golden hair tumbling loose, as she chased two wee, equally blond children across the lawn.
Lottie grinning coyly as Alex tugged her into his arms, head bending down to claim her lips—
Abruptly, he understood with sharp clarity:
He had always assumed that it was thedoingthat gave life meaning—how many people he cured, how many he helped.
Such things were admirable, but without someone beside him, such acts lost much of their meaning.
Life was meant to be shared.
With Lottie, Alex only ever wanted to be in the present, to love and simplybe.
“You love her.” Kieran stated this as a fact.
Alex nodded.
“I love her,” he whispered.
“Then what else matters?”
Alex snorted.
Everythingelse mattered, unfortunately.
She was committed to her family. He could hardly ask her to betray them in order to spend a life with him, could he?
He needed to respect Lottie’s decisions.
“Knowing that I love her doesn’t remove the obstacles to our union,” Alex said. “She has very real concerns that I dinnae ken how to address.”
“Here is my only piece of advice.” Kieran sat forward. “Life is an endlessly shifting sand. If I were a poet, I would say thatchangeis life’s only constant. I set sail for one port only to arrive at another. One day you are a doctor; the next, you are a marquess. The injury that broke your leg could have easily killed you, or at the very least, rendered you an invalid for life. So why, when love arrives in the midst of all this chaos, would you turn away from it?”
“It isnae that easy, Kieran—”
“But, truthfully, it is, Alex. If your love for Lady Charlotte—and hers for you—doesnae lead ye to compromise a fair bit in order tae have one another, then perhaps what ye feel isnae quite love. But if ye do love her . . .”
Alex took in a deep breath, letting Kieran’s unspoken words linger.
But if ye do love her . . . then act. Do something, even if it might end in chaos.
Och, he had been such an eejit.
How could he even contemplate a life without Lottie? How could he not fight for her?
The sensation nearly blinded him with its force.
Love.
Glorious. Overwhelming. Cleansing.
He loved her.
He was willing to sacrifice a great many things to be with her.
Would Lottie, with her fiercely loyal heart, be willing to do the same for him?
