Arabella stepped backward, shock filtering across her features.
And no wonder. He’d gone and lost his head, declaring himself while shouting at her. But this unanticipated turn had him reeling, frantically grasping for something that seemed to be slipping out of his reach.
He took a step toward Arabella, but she held up a hand to stop him. “I cannot...do this. I cannot think straight. Please, Gavin. I need some time alone.” And with that she whirled away, stalking toward the ruins.
Gavin dropped to his haunches and blew out a long breath. This was not what he’d imagined for today. He’d brought Arabella here hoping to show her pieces of himself and his history he’d never shown anyone.
Instead, he’d lost his temper. He’d let his fear of losing her get the best of him.
He was not that man. Not the kind that would force or coerce. Not the kind that would use what she felt for him against her.
Growing up in the home she had, Arabella had had enough of that to last a lifetime.
But one thing was certain. He’d not give up on her, or a future with her, so easily. And he had to believe thatdeep down, in the stubborn part of her soul that he loved so much, she wouldn’t either.
ARABELLA WALKED, UNCONSCIOUS of her path. Over crumbling stone walls, through muddy bogs, up steep inclines. Her boots were filled with water, her stomach churned, and her heart ached.
She kicked at a stone, remembering that morning at the beach when she’d thrown rock after rock in the water. She’d thrown a great many before discovering it wasn’t Gavin she was angry at but her parents.
And just now, she’d done the exact same thing. Taken her anger and frustration out on Gavin when the person she was truly angry with was herself.
She stood at the center of the ruins, full of self-loathing.
She wanted to be strong. Wanted to be the woman Gavin seemed to think she was. But deep down she feared if he truly knew her, he’d turn away and not look back.
Why couldn’t she be stronger? Why couldn’t she take her future into her own hands? And what would her future look like if she did? Would Gavin be in it?
Those words . . . what he had said . . .
I ken the woman I’ve come tae love would not be satisfied with the life she left back in London.
Gavin loved her.
Helovedher.
Knowing that . . .
Could she be satisfied returning to her cage back in England? Falling into old habits and patterns? Allowing her parents to make her choices and decide her future? Marrying a man of their choosing?
“Arabella?” Gavin’s voice echoed off the stone walls. It sounded as if he wasn’t far away. “I’ll give ye the space ye wish for, but I need tae make sure ye are well.”
Hearing his voice set Arabella’s insides aswirl with confusion. Her indecision felt like a noose, tight around her neck. She wanted to throw something.
She stared down at the mud beneath her boots, catching hold of a memory—a promise she’d made herself. One that might serve as a vent for all the emotion swirling inside her.
“Arabella?” Gavin’s voice was closer now.
She scooped up a handful of mud, edging back behind a taller section of wall.
Gavin jumped down through a low-arched window, about twenty feet away. She stood ready, taking aim. When he turned, she hit him square in the chest.
He stared at her, jaw slack.
The shock on his face was more satisfying than Arabella had even imagined.
“I ken ye are angry, but mud?” He tried to wipe it off but only managed to spread it down the front of his coat.
“I’m not angry.” Arabella was ready with another handful. “I only thought to give you a taste of the mud bath I had the pleasure of taking the first day we met. When you left me back at the inn.” She threw another handful, this time hitting his leg and spattering his boots.
