Dove kept her thoughts to herself, but she swallowed hard over the lump in her throat. She stepped forward. It was time to make the announcement.
“Father—”
He turned to her just as the doors to the sanctuary opened.
Cain had sat on the edge of his bed at the inn, hands clasped, and stared at the floor for an unknown amount of time when he’d returned from the Meriwether cottage. His mind was a jumbled mess of self-recrimination and inner turmoil. Part of him wanted to just get on his horse and ride hell for leather to London and forget that he had even heard of a village called Meriden.
At the same time, he knew that would be impossible, because he had been here.
And met Dove Meriwether.
He snorted in disgust, because of all of the people that James would have had to injure before he’d departed this world, she was the one woman Cain could picture by his side for the remainder of his days. Dove was everything that he wasn’t—someone worthy of love.
Shoving a hand through his hair, he’d finally fallen into a restless slumber, waking the next morning with every intention of leaving. He had his valise packed with the few clothes he’d taken to Birmingham and which Mrs. Decker had kindly laundered, dried, and ironed for him while he’d been there. If she were a man, he had no doubt he would have hired her as his valet.
In fact, it was the despondency on the lady’s face that had kept him from departing. When he’d gone downstairs and told her his plans, she had put a hand to her heart. “But, my lord, I was so looking forward to seeing you perform in the Christmas Eve play!”
Thus, Cain had shoved down his pride, along with the rest of his emotions, and reluctantly headed for the church.
He hadn’t been prepared for the shock of pain that had flowed through him the moment he saw Dove, but neither did he miss the relief that was evident on her face. Of course, she was likely worried for her father’s disappointment, and that of the rest of the patrons of the church. Given the way she’d dismissed him the night before, he was quite sure she didn’t wish to look upon his face.
But, as Mable had so kindly reminded him, he had made a promise, and Cain would uphold his part of the bargain even if it killed him.
“I apologize for my tardiness,” he announced, offering a general nod to his fellow actors.
The vicar offered him a warm smile. “No harm done, my lord. You’re here now. Shall we begin?”
Cain squared his shoulders and took his place near Dove, although he was careful to keep his gaze averted and a proper distance between them.
As the play practice commenced and there was a lull in Mary and Joseph’s lines, he could feel a presence moving closer to him. He kept his focus firmly on the sheet in his grasp, although it crinkled slightly with the added pressure.
“My lord,” Dove whispered. “If I might have a word with you after—”
His jaw clenched. “I think you said everything you needed to last evening, Miss Meriwether.”
He heard her sigh. “I was out of line. I was upset and—”
He faced her, his eyes clashing with hers. “Allow me to set your mind at ease. Once my duty to your father has concluded, I will leave Meriden, thus leaving any more unwelcome memories in the past where they belong.”
She paled slightly. “My lord, I didn’t mean…” She turned away and covered her mouth and he understood. She had never meant to hurt him.
“Set your mind at ease, Miss Meriwether.” He softened his voice slightly. “I harbor no ill will toward you or Meriden. This entire experience was what I needed to open my eyes. You spoke the truth last night, so don’t believe that you are at fault. I shall return to London and do my duty to my family and you will not have to see me again.”
Dove clenched her fists at her sides. This conversation was not going at all how she’d planned. She meant to tell him she hadn’t intended to lash out like she had, but she couldn’t force the words out.
And now she feared it was too late.
His words were so cool and clipped, so final, that she knew it would take a Christmas miracle for him to see that she didn’t detest him, that he wasn’t the scoundrel she had made him out to be. Because he was different now. The Cain Wyndham he had been when he’d rode into their village was not the same one on this stage with her now.
But how could she make him see that?
A sudden flush flowed through her body. Perhaps it wasn’t enough if she just explained that he wasn’t as terrible as he believed, but to show him that she wasn’t without her own flaws. For years she had fought against the passion flowing through her veins, and while James had used her quite ill, she knew that it wasn’t only his fault that she had almost trod the path of ruin. She had been easily led by his flowery words, but she wouldn’t have succumbed if she hadn’t wanted to do so.
Dove spoke up when it was her turn in the play, but her mind was whirling with how she might repair this unfortunate rift with Cain.
Once practice had concluded, the viscount didn’t linger over long as he generally had before, but took his leave, marching down the aisle of the church as if God himself had ordered him to go.
She wasn’t surprised when her father walked over to her with a concerned frown. But then, she hadn’t told him about the conversation she’d had with Cain in the kitchen, and the reason for his abrupt departure was that he had promised one of the villagers his assistance.
