“She didn’t, not exactly.”
“Then what happened?”
James scratched his jaw again. “I’m not exactly certain, but I may have stunned her into silence.”
“She said nothing?”
“Exactly, not at all what you’d imagine.”
“Not from her,” Maggie said with a frown. “Despite her suffrage work, I can’t believe she’d turn you down. She seemed so taken by you when we’ve spoken after our meetings. I do like her, Jamie. I hate to speak ill of the dead, but she’s blossomed since her husband’s passing. Even more since you’ve met. I think you’ve had a hand in that.”
“Perhaps I did my job too well.” James gave her a quick rundown of their bargain. “She only wanted a way out of an untenable situation. I wanted more for her, to help her realize her potential. Help her believe, as I do, what an incredible woman she is on her own. She’s come so far already.”
“And her thanks is rejecting my boy’s proposal?” she exclaimed with no little outrage.
“She did not reject me,” he reminded.
“She didn’t answer either.”
“She will,” he said confidently. “Clearly Prim wasn’t expecting the proposal. Once she’s had time to think it over, she’ll say yes.”
At least he hoped so. Having her as his wife had come to mean more to James than he thought possible. Not only for the swift end she’d put to his bachelorhood, or because in one fell swoop he might accomplish everything he’d set out to gain when he’d left Scotland.
Prim might think he longed to be with his family, but James longed for something else altogether.
Belonging.
Being with his family had never accomplished that. They’d never needed his company. Not like he’d needed them. Needed people in general. He couldn’t bear to be alone.
In turn, he wanted to be needed by them. Wanted to be depended on. Prim for all her begging for his assistance, didn’t need anyone. All she’d needed was a modicum of confidence and a handful of faith in herself. Certainly, she didn’t want or need to be taken care of.
For all that, she was just as lonely as he. Despite the number of people in her life, she needed true companionship and understanding. Someone she could be herself with. Someone she could reveal her true thoughts to. Children, for all their affection, couldn’t provide that.
She lacked true intimacy. Just as he did.
They might find that together. Not just with their bodies, but in true friendship.
James shook off any deeper sentiment and set the books aside. Rising, he went to Maggie and drew her close for a warm hug. He had a friend in her as well. One he’d never sacrifice for anything.
He kissed her cheek, smiled down at her. “Thank you, Maggie. That might be one of the best gifts I’ve ever received.”
“Pardon my intrusion,” the Preston butler called from the door. “You’ve a telegram, Mr. MacKintosh.”
“Another one?” he asked, crossing the room to take it. “Probably just a note from the family wishing us a Happy Christmas.”
He took the envelope and thanked the butler. Pacing back into the room toward Maggie, he opened it and removed the telegram.
His steps slowed, halted. His breath caught, cold as ice, and his hands began to tremble.
It was no Christmas greeting.
“Jamie dear?” Maggie’s voice was high-pitched with alarm. “What is it?”
Numbly, James showed the paper to her, barely registering her gasp and the soft sob that followed. “I must go. I’ve got to go home.”
“I’m coming with you,” she said. “Don’t think of arguing. I’ll not let you spend the journey alone.”
Alone.
