But that day wasn’t the only thing he wanted Meg to remember. They had shared many a day in these woods. Many a memory that he hoped would guide her back to him.
She was silent for a while as they walked, then she let out a breath like she’d been holding it for a while. “What do you want me to do?”
He stopped in the path and turned toward her. “Nothing. You’ve been doing everything for a long time. Letmedo something now. Just…be open. That’s all I have to ask.”
Her lower lip trembled. “Why now?”
“I would tell you that it’s because I love you. That it’s because I’ve loved you for a decade. That it’s because the thought of losing you actually cuts away a piece of my heart.”
Tears swelled in her eyes, and he wanted so desperately to wipe them away or make some kind of joke to diminish their power, but he didn’t. It was time to show them. Time to show her everything that was in his heart, uncomfortable or not. Withholding himself from her had nearly made him lose her. Now he had to give her everything.
“But I’m not going to tell you that,” he continued. “Because right now my words are meaningless without something more behind them. So I’m going to show you how I feel, Meg. And I only hope that it’s going to be enough.”
Chapter Twenty
Simon sat on the ground, laying out food and drinks across the blanket that had been tucked into the saddlebag. He was very focused on the act, which gave her time to observe him.
When she’d ridden up to the cottage and he’d stepped out to greet her, every part of her heart and soul had screamed at her to launch herself into his arms.
But she hadn’t. And he hadn’t asked her to do so. He’d only asked for her open mind, and she was trying to give it. It was almost impossible when he did things like quietly and calmly declare his love for her, but then deny that she should decide her future only on his words.
It would be easy to do that, for those words were what she’d wanted to hear for so many years.
“Are you certain you don’t need help?” she asked, shifting on her feet as he set a fallen wine goblet upright for the third time.
“No, I can manage this,” he said, and smiled in triumph as the glass stayed in place at last. “Come join me.”
She laughed as she did so and settled onto the blanket. The spread was lovely, with cold chicken, fresh bread and enough cheese to satisfy even her. He prepared a plate for her and handed it over, along with a glass of wine, then made a plate for himself.
She smiled at him. “You know what this reminds me of?”
His eyes lit up. “That picnic we all went on when you were, what…sixteen?”
She nodded. “James was so lost when he first inherited. I think it was the first time he laughed when he was duke.”
“He and Graham went to fish, didn’t they?” Simon asked.
She shivered as she thought of that long ago day. “And you and I were left alone.”
His own smile fell. “It was the first time we were alone since your engagement. I was trying to maintain a distance, but all I wanted to do was kiss you,” he whispered.
She shrugged. “Iwantedyou to kiss me, but I knew you wouldn’t.”
“I should have,” he said, scooting a little closer. Close enough that she felt the warmth of his skin, the brush of his breath against her cheek. “I should have thrown caution to the wind and kissed you right then and there. I should have told Graham and James that I wanted to marry you. I should have toldyou.”
“Why didn’t you?” she whispered, looking up at him, drawn in by all the passion she knew was between them but knowing that would never be enough to sustain their happiness. That had been proven already.
He reached out and dragged his fingertips across her jawline, letting his thumb trace her lower lip gently. “Honor,” he whispered.
She frowned. There was that word again. Honor had been the foundation of all the walls he put between them.
He continued, “I would have told you then that it was honor that stopped me. But that wasn’t it. Not really.”
Her eyes went wide at that admission. “What was it?”
“Fear,” he admitted, and it was clear how difficult that word was to say. She saw it in the darkening of his cheeks, in the way his eyes darted away. “It’sno excuse, but I spent my life trying to fit a mold, trying to please unpleasable parents. If I edged the wrong way, everything I wanted was withheld.”
She and Emma had discussed this, that Simon had not be raised to fight, but to please. And she understood his desire to make things right rather than to ask for what he wanted. “I do understand. I’ve seen the way your mother treats you even now. It wasn’t right to make you dance for your reward. Not when the reward was love.”
