“Ye had every right to react as ye did.” He rubbed his hand up and down her back as if words alone couldn’t convey reassurance enough.
“No.” She finally met his gaze. Her blue eyes brilliant with unshed tears, though there was a hint of steel behind them now. “The moment I walked into the stable today, I let that ugliness sweep away all I’ve accomplished on my own, and the beauty of what we’d created together. I hate that. Especially after I decided long ago that I wasn’t going to let that ordeal guide each aspect of my life. I wasn’t about to let him steal the whole of my spirit.”
“He dinnae.”
They stayed like that for a long while. Piper welcomed his touch, though she was no longer in desperate need of his support. Sunlight filtered through the windows, tracing a path from one side of the room to the other, and he persisted in cuddling her close. Kissed her brow with tenderness and reverence. Words of praise and encouragement on his lips. Arms, strong and secure, around her.
She’d never before spoken aloud of what Rutledge had done to her that day. Fearing censure, admonishment that in some way it had been her own fault, she’d never dared to speak of it. Honestly, she’d never been able to imagine sharing those painful and humiliating details with another.
Deep inside she’d known Connor would listen without judgment, and it had all spewed out like a water pump too readily primed. Regardless of how he disparaged himself in comparison to his multitude of brothers, he was the best of men. Undoubtedly the best of them all. He had more than proven himself trustworthy and deserving of her honesty.
And more.
He’d won her over, body and soul.
And he was right in saying the blame was Rutledge’s alone. Not hers. Not even Harry’s.
She saw that now.
“Itishis fault, isn’t it?” She nestled against his chest with a sigh. “All this time, I’ve equated what happened to me solely with Harry’s absence. Whatever reason he had didn’t matter because I suffered in his absence. I’ve never realized the connection until this moment. I held him accountable for Rutledge’s actions rather than the duke himself. I never doubted it.”
“Logic born of a young lass’s pain and trauma,” he said softly. “Ye needed someone to lash out at. Someone to blame.”
“Perhaps it was easier for me to find Harry at fault than to dwell on that moment. What I’ve seen as his betrayal wasn’t in not coming for me, it was in not sparing me the duke’s assault. I realize now I cannot continue to blame Harry for what the duke did to me.”
“Aye.”
She raised her lips to his. A long, languid exchange that righted her world. No, her universe. And Connor at its center, shining warmth and comfort down upon her.
“You’re a good man, Connor. The best of men. You have shown me everything that is good and joyous.”
“As ye have me, lass.” At last, his somber expression gave way to a slight curve of his lips. His fingers skimmed the line of her jaw.
“It gives me such pleasure to behold you, to touch and kiss you.” Her whispered words brushed his lips. “You have the power to banish the darkness. To bring light, and laughter, and—” The word leapt to the tip of her tongue, shocking her into silence. Tasting it, she found the admission as delicious as she found him.
And love.
He had shown her much in such a short time. Kindness and assurance. Security and challenge. Laughter and passion. How could she not adore and admire a man who shared so much with her?
“I knew beyond a doubt that making love to you would only give me more of the same. In answer to your question, it was never a matter of bearing to have you touch me, Connor. Iwantedyou. I always will.”
Chapter 23
Edith brought a few of my personal belongings up from the cottage for me, including my journals. I thanked her most profusely for her efforts as she was quite nearly caught in the process. I add here now as an addendum to a previous entry: I have discovered that despite circumstances to the contrary, there is some happiness to be found at Dinton Grange after all.
~ from the diary of Piper Brudenall, September 1895
Piper awoke to find the room lost in shadows but for the light of a single lamp. Connor emerged from the attached washroom, hair damp and a towel in his hand. A muted scene from one of her many fantasies, clad in nothing more than a pair of trousers. Partially open to hang low on his hips, they were all that concealed his nudity.
Her sleepy nerves woke at the sight and warmed at the memory of those hard planes beneath her inquisitive hands and between her thighs. She stretched with smoldering desire. The flickering lamplight cast every angle of his lean, muscular body into sharp relief. The muscles in his arms and chest shifted and bulged as he wiped the towel across his face, then tossed it aside. The many ridges of his abdomen faded into a defined V from his hips, disappearing into his trousers.
Rolling onto her side, she watched him as he crossed the room to the wardrobe, passing by the dark windows she’d last taken note of lit by the light of a hazy autumn afternoon.
That afternoon.
It all came back to her then. Some of it happy. The rest—no, she would focus on the good.
“I fell asleep?”
