“It’s interesting to see you like this,” Bess observed.“I don’t recall ever seeing you in such a state over a woman.What do you suppose that means?”
“It means that Gemma is extraordinary.In every way.”Hal firmed his jaw and met his oldest friend’s stare.“She deserves the life she wants.She’s worked hard for it.I won’t be the one who stands in her way.”
“I don’t hold much with the concept of ‘deserving,’” Bess said thoughtfully, gathering her bowls and spoons for the morning’s work.“It’s a nonsense notion.It’s not the way our world works.What do any of us truly deserve?And would we be thankful if we got it?I think a better thing to hope for is grace—the will to love one another because love is needed, not because it is deserved.Do you love her, Hal?”
Hal’s chest had ached with an actual pain he feared would never ease.He hadn’t thought it in so many words, hadn’t allowed himself to put a name to this restless yearning that was only quieted by her presence, by her touch or the sound of her voice or the sight of her smile.
Calling it by its name only made it hurt worse.But Hal was sick of lies.So he told the truth.
“Yes.I love her.”
“Does she know?”
Panic had seized Hal by the throat at the question.“She can never know.I can’t give her the life she wants.What can I give her?A decrepit estate that is the last of my family’s holdings, saved from debt by selling off all the rest of the lands and houses.A life of toil in service to the tenants and farmers my family has exploited for generations.”
“That’s not all you have to give, Hal.”Bess shook her head.“Honestly, I despair of you.I can see you believe you’ve acted for the best, that you have acted out of love, and I suppose I can’t argue with that.But you might consider whether Gemma has the right to decide for herself if what you can offer is enough for her.”
“I know it isn’t.She has been clear from the start about what she wanted, and this place, this village…me.We are not what she wants.Telling her the truth about who I am, even telling her how I feel—it would only hurt her.She was always going to leave.”
For the first time in Hal’s memory, Bess had looked disappointed in him.“Are you truly doing this to protect Gemma?Or are you protecting yourself?”
Hal had taken his leave soon after, shaken, but still certain that he’d done the right thing.Of course Bess wanted him to tell Gemma the truth; she was a romantic, underneath her sensible, pragmatic exterior, and she would like to see love triumph over all.
But that wasn’t going to happen.
What would happen was that Hal would take up the mantle his elder brother had loved to toss about and become the Last of the Montroses.Because if he couldn’t have Gemma, he’d rather be alone.
He heaved the rock he’d managed to pick up a little harder than necessary, sending it smashing into the side of the riverbank and scattering the stones already piled there.Cursing and ignoring his scraped fingers, aching with cold, he turned back to grapple with another slippery river rock.
A splash behind him made Hal straighten and turn around.
It was Gemma.Clean and lovely, her hair pulled partway back, leaving most of it to wave about her shoulders.She was wearing a dress he hadn’t seen before, some kind of filmy pink fabric that floated around her legs as though she were standing on a cloud.Hal’s mouth went dry, his heart pounding, until he caught a glimpse of her face.
She was livid.Absolutely incandescent with anger.He didn’t have time to wonder why before she picked up the hem of her skirt, showing those damned galoshes on her feet, and slip-slid her way down the riverbank.And she didn’t stop there.
Without a moment’s hesitation for her pretty dress, she splashed into the brook, the swirling waters soaking her to the waist and barely slowing her down.She stomped right up to him, lifted her hand, and slapped him full across the mouth.
The shock of it more than the force she’d used snapped his head to the side.
Over the ringing in his ears, he heard her shriek, “Howdareyou make love to me and then turn out to be a duke?!”
Damnation.
She knew.
Hal didn’t pause to ask who told her, and he didn’t wait to be hit, again either.When she swung wildly at him, he caught her arm and used it to pull her in close.
“Gemma.Gemma!Let me explain?—”
But she wouldn’t listen, or maybe couldn’t hear him over the rushing of the brook and the rushing of the fury in her veins.She struggled so violently in his grasp, she nearly sent them both tumbling into the stream.
Against every instinct, Hal let her go and she instantly backed away from him.She almost lost her balance but managed to catch herself at the last moment.
“There’s nothing you can say.You’ve lied to me every day, everyminute, since we first met.You’ve made me into the thing I swore I never would be again: a laughingstock!I never want to see or speak to you again.I don’t care if youarea duke, you’re nothing but a—ascoundrel!” Her voice raised in volume, frustration shaking through the words.“And I can’t even cry about it!!”
With this incomprehensible parting shot, she turned on the heel of her rubber boot and stomped back toward the riverbank, her sodden skirts floating behind her and swirling around her legs.
Hal let her go.Again.
