He moved his legs over the edge of the bed and began to toss on his clothes.
“Where are you going?”
The note of panic in her voice only added to his guilt. He should be holding her in his arms right now, reveling in the joys of conjugal bliss. Not feeling the overwhelming urge to escape.
“That’s the gate and unless I’m mistaken, the rest of our party.”
Her eyes widened. “My brother?”
He nodded and crossed the room to pick up her clothes. Handing them to her, he said, “You’d better get dressed and return to your room.”
The last thing he needed with Sutherland was to complicate matters. They were already complicated enough.
Twenty-six
It took a week for William Sutherland to accept the truth but only a few days for him to decide what to do about it.
Muriel could be happy without him, but he could never be happy without her. Happiness wasn’t supposed to matter to him, and it might not have if he’d never met her. But he had. So now he knew both happiness and the unfortunate corollary, unhappiness.
He might have existed without the former, but he could not go on in a perpetual state of the latter.
The realization that she was the most important thing in the world to him and that he’d made her hate him shamed him—and terrified him. He’d been so blind with the thought of losing her, he hadn’t realized what he was doing. Forcing her,Jesus!
He’d thought that as long as they were together, that was all that mattered. That a little bit of love was better than none. But he was wrong. She deserved more than half a life, than the piece of himself he’d been willing to give her.
She was right. Love without respect was not love. Being his leman would make her think she was not good enough. As if the damage those men had done had made her lacking somehow. How could he not have seen it?
He’d loved her enough to let her go, but did he love her enough to bring her back? In the dark depths of his despair, he searched for an answer. How could he do his duty and have the woman he loved?
But maybe that had been the wrong question all along. Maybe the question he should have been asking was how could he do his duty and not have her by his side?
But would she still want him?
The wind is sharp tonight, Muriel thought as she walked through the narrow wynds of Inverness. Night had fallen about an hour ago and a ghostly veil of mist that had descended over the city along with it was already starting to thicken.
It was a night to send chills up even the bravest of spines. A dangerous night for a woman alone. But she wasn’t alone. Since she’d returned to Inverness well over a week ago, Lord Henry’s solid presence at her side had been a nightly fixture on her walks home. Nay, not home. The small room above the cobbler’s would never be home. She pushed aside the wave of sadness and came to a stop beside her companion.
“We’re here,” he said cheerily. “Safe and sound.”
Muriel gazed up into his kind face, illuminated in the soft glow of torchlight the cobbler had left for her. Lord Henry was a kind man. Smart, pleasant to look upon, and a highly skilled physician, he had a bright future ahead of him. He was the type of man who would spend the rest of his life trying to make her happy. She was a fool not to let him try.
“Thank you,” she said. “I know it’s out of your way.”
He waved her off. “An extra few minutes, nothing more. And it makes me feel better to know that you are safe.” Their eyes held, and Muriel could see his questions. His care for her. His hurt. His smile fell. “Are you sure you won’t reconsider? They might be old, cantankerous, and set in their ways, but you are making headway here. It won’t be any easier in France.”
It would be much easier in France. In France she would not have to stop herself from going back to him. In France there would be no hope. In France she would protect herself from herself. In France she would disappear.
She shook her head. “I’ve longed to see the continent since I was a little girl.” The lie fell easily from her tongue; she almost believed it herself. “But if you have reconsidered your offer to write a letter to your friend at the guild in Paris, I should understand.”
“Of course not. They will be lucky to have you.” He reached down and cupped her chin, tilting her face to his. His hands were warm and strong, but his touch elicited not a flicker of…anything.
“I’ve not given up, Muriel. I intend to spend the next few days until you leave trying to persuade you to change your mind.”
She recognized the look in his eyes and for a moment she thought he was going to kiss her. But apparently he thought better of it, and she was saved from having to pull away.
He dropped her chin. “Bonne nuit, Muriel.”
“Good night,” she said, opening the door and slipping inside. She leaned her back against the closed door, relieved—grateful to be alone again.
