He frowned. “Punishing me?”
Miss Allen frowned. “No, not punishing you. The worst she called you was Sassenach, which is exactly what you are. I was the traitor.”
“And what have you betrayed?”
Her expression took on a tragic note as she whispered. “I don’t know. What have I done to merit such a thing? To watch you ripped apart before my eyes!”
She was tearing up, and he would not stop himself from going to her now. He touched her arms, gently soothing her as best he could. “Miss Allen. Sadie, try and think more about this dream.”
She shook her head. “It was just a nightmare. It isn’t important.”
“We both know that’s not true. You are Lady Vengeance herself, the boldest and bravest woman I have ever met. If a nightmare haunts you, then there is something to it.”
She didn’t speak. She was clearly embarrassed by her weakness, and his heart went out to her.
“I had nightmares nearly every night after Barbara died. I woke up in a sweat. My valet began leaving a change of clothes for me by the bedside.”
She turned back to him. “What did you dream about?”
“My daughters grown, dying just as Barbara did.” He felt his gut clench at the memories. “It was excruciating, watching her go. Childbed fever took her. She was too weak to feed the baby,too out of her mind with fever to rest, and…” His words cut off. “It was horrible.”
“Do you still have nightmares?”
“My last one was several months ago. The girls are strong, but they may someday become pregnant. I am terrified of losing them.”
She squeezed his arms. “That is only natural. You love your children. You loved your wife.”
“Yes,” he said, “I did, I suppose. We were well matched, but I don’t think it was love.”
“No?”
How strange to think of this now. He’d never bothered to consider it before. He and Barbara had married because it had made sense. He had cared for her, and she had given him two beautiful babies. He couldn’t think of a single time when she disagreed with him about anything…
But now that he thought about it, Barbara had acted more like a well-trained servant than a wife. And when he compared her to the woman in front of him…well, Sadie was a firecracker. Flame and sound, wrapped together in a package that was pricklier than a cactus. To him, she was more alive, more colorful, and more damned alluring than any woman he’d ever met.
“My lord?”
“I was comfortable with her,” he finally said. “That is something, but…” He looked at her. “If Minette had been a boy and if Barbara had lived, I doubt I would have ever touched her again.” His eyes widened at that thought. He’d never been attracted to his wife. Never felt his groin thicken with anything but duty. As opposed to now, when a frustrating Scotswoman stirred his loins to bursting.
Good God, what was happening to him?
“I am sorry,” she said.
“So am I,” he admitted, though he wondered what he was apologizing for. Was he sorry that he’d never been attracted to his wife? Or sorry that she died before knowing true passion? “Either way,” he finally said, “it is done with now. I have mourned my late wife. She is at peace, and so I am.” His gaze turned to the woman in his arms now. The one whose hair looked like a cascade of dark fire. “We are here to discuss your dreams, not mine.”
“There is nothing more to discuss,” she said as she twisted away. He didn’t let her go far. He caught her fingertips and held on. And a sudden inspiration made him ask his next question.
“What was I doing when the banshee appeared?”
“What?” Her word was a high squeak, and so he knew he had guessed correctly.
“Miss Allen…Sadie. What werewedoing when the banshee wailed? Were we kissing?”
She nodded, her gaze averted. His groin tightened unbearably.
“Were we doing more than kissing?”
Another slow nod and suddenly blood was roaring in his ears.
