David picked up the stool he’d been sitting on and slammed it against the chimney, watching as it splintered and fell against the stones. The need to destroy, to release all the violent rage, wasvisceral. He broke every piece of pottery he could find, letting the mindless destruction offer its own peace.
When he turned and saw Amelia standing in the doorway, he didn’t care what she thought of him. The tiny one-room cottage was destroyed, full of broken glass and fragments of furniture.
“This is who you married,” he told her. “And if I lose my daughter to death, you need to leave me.”
She said nothing but took a step forward and closed the door behind her. From beneath her cloak, she withdrew a woolen blanket that she’d taken from the house. He guessed she’d brought it to help warm him from the storm.
But the ice inside of him could not be warmed.
“Stay back,” he warned her. “I’m not safe to be around right now.”
“You wouldn’t hurt me,” she whispered. “And I know why you’re angry. You’ve a right to be.” She continued walking toward him, and he stood his ground amid the broken pieces.
“I don’t need pity right now.”
“I didn’t come here for that.” She reached out and put the blanket around his shoulders. “I came because you need someone right now.” Then she rested her face against his heart and put her arms around his waist.
He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe. The soft scent of her hair and the touch of her body against his were an offering he didn’t want to deny.
“I care about her, too,” she said. “And I refuse to believe that she’ll die.”
He took her hands away from his waist, holding her wrists. “I’ve seen it happen before, Amelia. And this is exactly what death looks like.”
Her green eyes filled with hurt, but she stared back at him. “We can’t lose hope.”
“I lost hope six years ago.”
“Don’t push me away, David,” she said quietly. “I may not be the woman you wanted. But I love you, and I won’t walk away when you need me.”
He relaxed his grip, tensing even more at her words. “You don’t love me, Amelia.”
“I know that your pain is mine. I see what you’re enduring, and I need to help you.”
“Unless you can stop her from dying, there’s nothing you can do.”
She startled him when she rose up on tiptoe and drew his mouth down to hers. It wasn’t the kiss of a young woman trying to flirt or gain his attention. Instead, it was the desperate touch of a wife hurting from his rejection. He tasted the rain from her mouth, and when she began to remove his sodden jacket, he stopped her. “You didn’t come here for this.”
But her face held seriousness. “I came to comfort you. In whatever way you need me.”
It was a way of forgetting about the horror of his daughter’s illness; he understood that. And yet, he couldn’t touch her. Not now, not like this.
“Go back home,” he told her, lifting the blanket around her shoulders. “I’ll follow shortly.”
When she returned to the door, he caught a glimpse of the heartache on her face, which made him feel even lower. Before she could venture out into the rain, he caught her hand and drew her in for a soft kiss. “You don’t deserve a husband like me, Amelia.”
“No,” she breathed, wrapping her arms around him, “but know that I am here.”
Impatience plagued Brandon Carlisle when his coach arrived at the Falsham estate near Edinburgh. His opportunity was here, after so many years.
He reached inside his coat, feeling the heavy pistol that he’d brought with him. This weapon was already loaded, and he had another in the opposite side. Or, if the occasion required it, he also had a small blade with which he could cut Paul Fraser’s throat.
He smiled, imagining the man’s sightless eyes.
“You will go now,” he told Sarah. “Tell them you’ve come to pay a call upon Lady Falsham.” Juliette would be distracted by his sister, and when Brandon came for Sarah, the servants would not dare turn him away.
His sister was trembling, especially when Richardson came up behind her. Fear, in a woman, was something to be encouraged. Sarah had been given too much freedom over the years, and he didn’t want her making decisions.
“Brandon, this will never work. Lady Falsham hardly knows me, but she does know that I am your sister.”
