“This weather may end us yet,” Allie called at his side, a hand clapped atop her bonnet. “I fear the rain might have been preferable.” The wind billowed her full skirts, trailing them behind her in a stripe of petticoats.
Ethan had a similar clutch on his own hat.
The abbey remained indomitable before them, its ancient walls having survived nearly a thousand years of pummeling weather on this bluff overlooking the ocean. Where its walls once supported stained glass windows and leaded roofs, they now grew wildflowers and ferns.
“Race you to the ruins,” she shouted before taking off at a sprint.
With a huff, Ethan dashed after her.
The entire moment felt like a portrait of their friendship.
Allie, always one step ahead.
Him, running to keep up with her.
It was one of a thousand things he admired about Lady Allegra Gilbert—her clever mind and endless bravery, her acerbic wit and philosophical acuity.
The last three days had been a revelation.
Kendall had been so consumed with repairing theSS Statesman, he had utterly absented himself, preferring to dine and sleep aboard ship, trusting Lady Whipple to keep his twin in line.
However, Lady Whipple had taken to her bed with a mild cold . . . or so she claimed. Allie had expressed doubt as to the true state of her aunt’s health.
Regardless, Lady Allegra had been left to Ethan’s sole care.
Conversation and ideas flowed freely between them.
He had spoken of his time at Oxford and the joy of selling his first book of poetry to a publisher.
She had told him of her adventures with Fabrizio and his cohorts, of the daring exploits they had carried out to raise money forLa Giovine Italia.
He narrated the whole of Malcolm’s betrayal and Viola’s defection and how, eventually, it put him on the road in Italy that fateful day.
Allie disclosed the details of her current pact with Kendall and how it might help her regain the Salzi Mine and, with it, her freedom.
And now, after days at her side, Ethan was helplessly caught in the siren song that was Lady Allegra Gilbert.
No matter how many hours he spent in her company, no matter how many confidences they shared, he only wanted more.
More time. More of her secrets. More wee bitty pieces he could stow in his heart.
He knew there was no future for them. Ethan’s sworn oaths to Kendall, as well as the duke’s expectations of Allie, rendered it impossible.
These hours and days existed on borrowed time.
Yet, he remained in her ambit, hurtling toward certain heartbreak.
The inevitable wreckage would be crushing.
But the current exhilaration of Allie’s companionship made that future heartache feel worth it.
What was the Italian expression?
Ne vale la pena?
It merited the pain.
Aye, every minute spent with Lady Allegra merited the pain he would feel when Kendall forced his sister into a loveless marriage, tossing Ethan aside for good.
