Kendall’s sneering condescension at the thought of Viola wedding him.
The ticking of the mantel clock in the silent aftermath of Aileen’s agony.
The endless nights, walking the dark floors of Thistle Muir, lost in the bottomless chasm of his grief.
Fear tasted acrid in the back of his throat and his breathing quickened. A fine tremor shuddered through his body.
He couldn’t—
It was simply too—
The silence between them lengthened, morphing into a cutting thing with sharp edges.
Viola took another step back, arms coming around her own mid-section.
“I do not like your hesitation right now,” she said. “I do not like your silence, as if you agree with Kendall’s assessment of us.”
“I dinnae—” Malcolm began, his thinking a disordered muddle. He grabbed onto what words he could. “Kendall’s opinion is telling of all the wee abuses and sacrifices ye would endure were ye to commit your life tae one such as myself.”
Viola pressed shaking fingertips to her forehead.
“I would count it a small sacrifice,” she said, voice so very soft. “But we need to be in this together, Malcolm. It’s already enough that Kendall is attempting to force me to his will. Are you truly thinking I need to give up yourself, as well?”
And there it was.
The heart of the matter.
Because truthfully?
Malcolm’s answer wasaye.
Aye, lass, ye likely do need tae give me up.
He wanted to be with her, but that damned fear loomed before him, a vast expanse of glacial blue-white that he was too terrified to cross. The pain of plummeting into another crevasse of grief paralyzed him.
He simply could not confront the possibility of such loss again. And withViola, of all people—a woman he adored and cherished and worshiped.
She didn’t misunderstand his continuing hesitation.
“Well.” She took a step back from him. And then another. “I guess we both have some thinking to do. I’m sure my father is beside himself right now, so I must be off. I will see you this evening.”
And just like Kendall before her, Viola spun on her heel and retreated up the lane.
18
What just happened?
Viola’s thoughts snarled as she rushed home along the lane, heart hammering against her breastbone.
How had everything gone sideways so quickly?
Her lungs burned, tight and unyielding.
How was she not in the throes of a full-on asthmatic fit right this instant? Her nerves had certainly experienced enough trauma today to merit one.
Though the deception with her father distressed her, and Kendall was a burr in her side, and she honestly didn’t know how to resolve the situation with her writing . . .
Every jolt paled in comparison to the acidic sting of Malcolm’s silence.
