‘Is something wrong, Warrick?’
‘Only that I want you too badly,’ he said. This journey needed to end soon, or else his very skin would ignite into flames.
* * *
After riding for several more miles, they reached their destination, and he dismounted, letting the horse graze. He lifted her down, holding her hand as he took her towards the rocky cliffside. The hill rose up from the embankment in a wall of pure rock, giving them numerous places to sit. The sea stretched as far as the horizon in a pool of endless blue.
‘It’s like the edge of the world, isn’t it?’ she breathed. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it.’ She embraced him, murmuring her thanks. Then he helped her walk through the rocks, letting her choose a place to sit. She selected a ledge nearby that was wide enough for them to be seated.
Warrick leaned back and she sat within his arms, drinking in the landscape. A moment later, she withdrew from the pouch the sewing he had returned to her. Then she took out a needle and the coloured thread that he had given her. ‘Where did you get the thread, Warrick?’
‘I had one of the maids buy it for me. I know you enjoy sewing.’
She pulled out a length of deep blue thread. ‘This is the perfect colour for the sea.’ She threaded her needle and began creating a blend of long and short stitches, creating the movement of the waves. Then she switched to a grey colour, blending it into the blue threads to give it depth. He marvelled in her ability to capture the colours of the water.
He sat beside her, watching as she stitched the colours of the sea. Though she was quiet and serious in her work, there was also a sense of her joy.
‘You have a gift, of seeing things the way you do. You find beauty where no one else would see it.’
‘There is beauty in everything around us.’ She turned and caught his gaze. Though she still held the embroidery, he leaned in and stole a swift kiss. Her smile warmed him, though he didn’t miss the cast of sadness.
She leaned back against him, continuing her sewing. It contented him just to hold her while he watched her add the colours of green, grey, amber, and light blue, forming dimension within her embroidery. Only when she had completed a small sample of the landscape did she set the sewing aside. ‘Thank you for bringing me here, Warrick.’
He stroked her long black hair in answer, drawing her back into his arms. For a time, she lay back against him while the waves coursed over the rocks.
‘We will be leaving soon,’ she murmured. ‘And I do not want to go.’ She turned to face him, and he saw the sorrow in her eyes. ‘I cannot imagine marrying someone else.’
The force of his own denial was a silent fury. No longer did it matter that both of their families would oppose a match between them. What mattered was this woman and whatshewanted. He would find a way to provide for her, even if it meant going with Rhys to Scotland.
Warrick tightened his arms around her waist. ‘We will find a way to change your father’s mind. You will marry no one but me.’
She leaned in and kissed him. ‘It’s what I want, too. But I don’t know how, unless we run away.’
He thought back to her earlier wish, for children of her own. And though it would be a move born of desperation, there was another way to force her father’s hand.
‘You could wed me, if you were carrying my child,’ he said quietly. ‘Your father would have no choice.’
Her face paled at his proposition. There was fear in her eyes, for she understood the consequences well enough. ‘I want to be with you, Warrick. But if I act against my father’s wishes, I—I’m afraid of what he’ll do.’
‘I will protect you,’ he swore. ‘From him and from everyone else.’
She grew silent for a time. The wind blew her hair back from her face, and he supposed he had asked too much of her. Then, from a fold of her cloak, she withdrew another piece of linen she had been embroidering. ‘I made this for you.’
He unfolded it and saw the outline of a tall tree beside a stream. She had stitched the water with a light spray of mist over the rocks. Even the leaves of the large tree had shades of green, grey, and blue. It was a scene of the place where he had first kissed her.
‘It’s beautiful,’ he said. But he was looking at her face and not the fabric. Her expression softened and in her eyes, he saw the longing that mirrored his. Yet he understood that she was an innocent, untouched and pure.
‘I want you to have it,’ she said. ‘So you will remember me.’
It was the last thing he’d expected her to say. She acted as if she would never see him again, as if this were a final farewell. And it infuriated him.
‘Is that what you want?’ he demanded. ‘For me to stand aside and let you wed another man? Or do you not believe I am capable of protecting you?’
His mind and body had gone numb. He had wanted so badly to believe that he could change his life, to live with someone who cared for him in the way his father never would. And yet, her hesitance was real.
Her face paled and she shook her head. ‘No, that isn’t it. It’s just that I don’t want our two families to war against one another.’
Warrick cupped her face and drew her into a kiss. He poured himself into it, wanting her to know how much he needed her. She responded with her own desires, clinging to him as he showed her without words what she meant to him.
