The startling insight frightened her.
What was she doing? What was she saying—?
Her mind reeled, right as her legs collapsed beneath her, and she would have crumpled to the ground except Kit caught her weight and lowered her with him. They were beneath an old oak with far-reaching roots. His back rested against the trunk.
She attempted to elbow her way free of him. “I don’t needanyone.” She didn’t need sisters who expected her to swallow her pride or a father whom she had rarely seen. Or London’s judgmental Society matrons, or its bitter, jealous debutantes.
And she certainly didn’t need men.
Instead of letting her go, Kit tightened his hold. “Elise, I’m sorry. I’m so very sorry.” Regret, true emotion, etched every word.
That was when she became completely undone. Hot tears of frustration, of belonging nowhere and having nothing, poured out of her and she couldn’t have stopped them if she’d tried. Her fingers gripped the material of his jacket. She turned her face into his chest and cried as if her very soul was being ripped from her.
Kit held her. One hand smoothed her hair back as one would a child’s. “It’s all right, Elise,” he murmured soothingly. “I’m sorry. It will all be well.”
He didn’t understand. Her life hadn’t been right since her father had been pronounced dead. Everything had changed then. Gram had died. Richard had taken over. Everyone in the countyhad looked at Elise with a melty-eyed pity that she’d despised.
Then there was the family betrayal. How could Dara have done that to her? How could Gwendolyn and Tweedie side with Dara? Why was Elise the one who must always sacrifice? To do as the others wished?
She cried for each of them, for those who were gone, for all she couldn’t change. She cried in anger and regret.
But one can’t cry forever.
At last, eventually, she was spent. Her face felt hot and wet. Her body boneless. She lay still for several long moments... and then she drew a long, shaky breath. She released it, and shame washed over her.A Lanscarr should never lose control. That is what her father had always told his daughters. It wasn’t done. It made one too vulnerable.
Kit didn’t move, not even to shift his weight. Her head was under his chin, her cheek against his chest. She could hear his heartbeat. It was steady and strong, comforting.
A sense of calm returned.
There was a rustle of twigs and grass as Tamsyn crawled forward with worry in her brown eyes. Their argument must have looked confusing to her. Elise pried her fingers off Kit’s jacket and reached out so that she could pet the dog and reassure her. Above their heads, a bird sang, and there was the buzzing of an insect accompanied by the stream’s gentle burble.
Elise let the hand petting Tamsyn drop to the ground. She pressed down, shifting to move. Her weight couldn’t be comfortable for Kit, not after all the two of them had experienced since the crash.
Instead of letting go, his hold tightened slightly. “Not yet,” he whispered, and because she really didn’t know if she had the strength to rise, she stayed where she was.
He still stroked her hair, wrapping a stray lock around his finger from time to time.
“I was overwrought,” she whispered.
“Iwas out of line.”
“You were.”
He made a sound as if her frank agreement was what he had expected. Elise felt herself smile.
“I was worried when I came out of the forest and you were gone,” Kit said.
“You made me angry.”
“I should have told you where I was going.”
“True.” She paused. “I shouldn’t have just walked off.” If she had been with Kit, Simon wouldn’t have spoken to her.
He hummed his thoughts and then said, “Anger was flowing both ways. We have had a challenging night and day.” There was a pause. “You were also right that I ‘reeked.’”
Thatconversation. It seemed like it had taken place weeks ago instead of a few hours.
Elise took in the greenery around them. The day was winding down. He was right. It had been a long one. “I am lucky you found me.”
