“Lindsay, Iwilltake care of him—the best care he will allow me to give—I promise you that. I will also write to you, faithfully, to tell you of his progress and whether he has softened towards you. And if I have to leave, I will make some other arrangement. Someone to keep a watch on him. I will not just abandon him.”
Lindsay dropped his head into his hands. He didn’t know how to put his pain and desolation into words. Leaving Drew was going to break him. His wolf would never recover from the loss. He would prefer to lose a limb.
“It can be borne, you know,” Francis said quietly. “But you must have distance. The more miles the better. It will not break the bond entirely, but it will make his absence bearable.”
Bearable.
Was that the best Lindsay could hope for now?
Chapter Nineteen
Dordt, South Holland, January 1789
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LINDSAY CONSIDEREDthe little stone nestled in the palm of his hand. It was small and rough and grey, with a faint glitter on the surface. He carried it everywhere these days, and for the last several hours he’d been staring at it, letting the fire burn down in the grate.
“Sir?”
A familiar voice interrupted Lindsay’s thoughts. He glanced up, blinking.
Wynne stood in front of him, a tray in his hands that held a steaming dish, beef stew by the smell of it, a jug of ale and some bread. Lindsay’s stomach heaved in protest.
He sighed, shoving the stone into his pocket. “I told thee, Wynne, I’ve no wish for aught.”
Wynne regarded him for a moment, expressionless, then stepped forward and set the tray down on a side table well away from where Lindsay sat, and made his way to the fire where some embers still glowed.
“The fire is low,” he observed.
“What of it?” Lindsay said wearily.
Wynne stood quiet for a moment, watching him. At last he said, “It is cold this evening, and you have been sitting in here all day, barely stirring.” When Lindsay did not respond, Wynne carefully moved towards the fire, reached for the basket of logs, and set two fresh ones down on the glowing embers. The new green wood spat a little,
“You should eat something,” Wynne said, as he stirred the fire to excite the embers.
“I have no appetite.”