The solution had come to him the moment he’d walked in the front door of their cottage. If any lady could keep him on the straight and narrow path, and satisfy his mother’s expectations, as well as that of society, it was Dove. He would gladly take her as his wife if she would but agree to accept his hand, because he also couldn’t imagine seeing anyone else comparing to her kind nature and goodness of heart. While most women would be excited to become a viscountess, Cain knew that Dove wouldn’t be so easily swayed by his title. She would expect something more sincere and genuine. He might not be worthy to be her husband as of yet, but he intended to continue to try. If nothing else, he vowed he could make her happy in the bedchamber, and the rest would surely fall into place.
Dove was pouring steaming water from a bucket on the stove into a basin when he entered with the dishes he’d gathered. “Shall I use the linen to dry—”
“I’m sure you and my father have things to discuss,” she interrupted curtly, as she set the bucket down. “As I said before, I can manage.”
Cain hesitated. He had expected her to be confused, perhaps slightly discomfited by his earlier confession, but she appeared decidedly… angry from the stiff set of her shoulders. And unfortunately, he had no idea what he’d done to cause it. He cleared his throat. “Miss Meriwether.” He hoped that by addressing her formally, that some of her upset would cease. “I was hoping that we might have a chance to talk—”
She threw a rag into the basin and spun on him. Her blue eyes were flashing fire and her face was flushed to the edge of her blonde hair. “How did you know I’ve been hurt before? Have you been gossiping about me behind my back?”
He blinked. “What?” When her eyes turned even more furious, he held up his hands. “No… I… You don’t understand. I was at the inn and…” He sighed. He had never stumbled over his own tongue before, but apparently, there was a first time for everything, because he couldn’t seem to string two coherent words together. He clenched his jaw. “I might have heard about your previous misfortune with another gentleman, but I did not set out to inquire about you, nor to cause you injury. On that, you have my word.”
She crossed her arms and tossed her head with a brittle laugh. “Mable, of course. It appears that you have charmed everyone in town with your London charisma, my lord. As if your word, or any other gentleman’s should sway my opinion. One encounter with a man like you was enough to suffice for the rest of my days.” She pinched the bridge of her nose and exhaled heavily. “I wish I had never known what a peer even was, or that I had ever met you or James Danfield. For an earl, I would have thought he might have had a conscience, but I suppose it doesn’t extend to the aristocracy.”
This time it was Cain who stilled. A strange buzz of warning began to start in his ears. “What did you say his name was?” he asked woodenly.
She narrowed her gaze. “I suppose you’re familiar with the Earl of Minelawn.” She snorted. “Not that it should surprise me. You are cut from the same cloth, are you not?”
Cain couldn’t move, and he certainly couldn’t look Dove in the eyes. James had been his cohort in carnal activities and the man whose funeral he had attended just days ago. Surely fate hadn’t been so cruel as to play such a twisted hand, to offer him a woman capable of turning him into a man his family could be proud of, a man he could be proud of, and end his suit before it could even begin, merely because she would never allow herself to trust another scoundrel like the earl. But he refused to lie to her any longer.
“I had known James for years, since we were in school together. He was my closest confidante.”
Her gaze hardened. “I suppose he was also in on this little game of who could woo the vicar’s daughter.”
“Actually, no.” Cain swallowed hard. “He’s dead.”
Her face paled, but he couldn’t focus on her distress right now when he was overwhelmed with his own.
This whole endeavor had been nothing but a fool’s errand. While he had been searching for redemption, this was enough to prove that he wasn’t worthy of forgiveness. He had committed so many sins that this was his reward—to be cursed until the end of his days as a known libertine. He would never be able to truly love because the one woman he desired to give him a second chance at life had already been abused by someone who was just like him.
His past flashed in front of his eyes, reminding him in detail how he’d treated women like Dove, and it sickened him. He felt unclean, and certainly not fit to even brush the hem of her gown let alone offer someone so pure and innocent the opportunity to dirty herself with a lifetime of former debauchery.
“Excuse me.” Cain turned on his heel and left the kitchens. He could barely see straight. His vision wavered as he headed for the front door, and even though he could hear the vicar call his name, he kept going. He could no longer infect this house with his filth.
The door slammed on his departure.
Chapter Ten
That night, Dove cried herself to sleep. She prayed that her father couldn’t hear her from his room down the hall, for the sobs that were coming out of her chest were deep and painful, as if her very heart was breaking in two.
She could no longer deny the fact that she had fallen in love with Lord Markel.
Before, when the Earl of Minelawn had paid court to her, she’d imagined that her emotions had been engaged. She had been despondent for weeks, but it was nothing compared to the anguish she was feeling now. If Cain left Meriden, she might not ever recover from such a devastating blow.
After her frustration had abated, she realized that she hadn’t been as upset with the viscount so much as with her own foolishness. She had allowed herself to care for someone who could never be hers. She admitted now that Lord Markel was trying to be a better man, whereas his friend James had thrived without thought to the consequences of others. Just because Mable had let something slip about Dove’s past didn’t mean that he had intended to use his position as a peer to take advantage of her. She’d had enough time to look back over their brief time together, and he had never made any untoward advances without her permission.
If the harsh words she’d said to him weren’t enough to cut deeply, the look of harsh regret in his gaze still tore her to shreds.
If he had remained at the village today, which she doubted would be the case, she intended to apologize for her outburst. Otherwise, she would choose her words carefully and send a letter to him in London. However, such communication couldn’t account for human emotions, as he couldn’t see the sincerity on her face when he read a simple sheet of paper.
Carefully hiding her emotions with a bright smile for her father, Dove donned her pelisse as they made their way to the church for play practice. She had considered telling her father that they would have to find another Joseph but decided to wait until the viscount didn’t appear. She feared they would also have to find another Mary, for she wasn’t sure she could continue playing a part that reminded her so much of Cain.
As the congregation slowly began to file into the church, Dove remained silent as she pretended a sudden interest in her lines. She had already memorized them long ago, because after adopting the role of Mary every year, it wasn’t much different than the Christmas prior. But then, not much changed when it came to the Nativity Story.
She held her breath as more and more people entered, and while she prayed she would see that towering figure, he never appeared.
Tears began to sting her eyes, but she blinked them back. She would not allow the rest of her father’s flock to see her pain. She would continue to harbor that in private.
Once everyone was there, except Lord Markel, her father glanced at the timepiece in his pocket. “Lord Markel is running late today. It’s not like him.”
