An hour later, Allie sat sandwiched between Kendall and Charswood in Lady Hadley’s drawing-room—sipping tea, nibbling shortbread, and feeling generally miserable.
If she chose Charswood, scenes like this one would be her future, soulless gatherings of meaningless chatter.
Though . . . the guests around her this afternoon didn’t appear soulless, per se. They talked and laughed and engaged in spirited, intellectual discourse.
Perhaps it was Allie who lacked a soul?
Ye dinnae want freedom. Ye want tae belong.
Or perhaps she simply didn’t belong here.
But if she didn’t belong here, then where did she belong?
It was not as if she could move into a wee Highland cottage with Ethan and subsist on gruel and the power of love.
Though, as she imagined it—Ethan seated before a homey fire of an evening, pen scritching in the firelight, his gaze lifting to meet hers and promising all sorts of wickedness . . .
Allie took in a stuttering breath, blinking her eyes and biting her bottom lip to stymie the emotion that clogged her throat.
Where is the indomitable woman I know and love?Ethan’s entreaty echoed in her ears.
Whydidfear hold her in thrall? Why did she hesitate to embrace the life she wanted with Ethan, Kendall be damned?
Opposite, Fabrizio turned to look at her, his eyes widening slightly as he realized she was upset. He likely assumed he was the reason, theidiota. He lifted his eyebrows in challenge—as if to say,ready to spar?—before turning back to banter and flirt outrageously with Lady Isolde.
The man was a never-ending annoyance.
And given how often Kendall tensed beside Allie, her twin found Fabrizio equally irritating.
So . . . the man’s presence wasn’t entirely unwelcome.
But what was the bandit’s agenda?
And how was Allie to antici—
Snick.
The door to the drawing-room opened, admitting the butler.
“Mr. Ethan Penn-Leith,” the man intoned.
Oh!
Her Ethan.
He was here.
Allie sat up straighter as a coal lit in her chest, hot and aching.
The butler stepped aside as Ethan walked through the doorway. He had washed and changed into a well-fitted dark blue coat and gray trousers, his wavy hair damp around the edges. However, he still looked exhausted, his eyes as red-rimmed as her own.
He scanned the room until finding her, their gazes locking.
Adoration and yearning took up a steady drumbeat beneath her sternum.
All of her longed to rush across the room, throw herself into his arms, and beg for his forgiveness. To shout,Yes, I choose you!To promise that she would claw, fight, wrestle . . . anything so that they could be together.
But Kendall shifted at her side and Ethan looked away and the moment was lost.
