“Has it been?”
Arran’s muscles were tense and unyielding. He stood like an immovable statue beside her. She longed for him to wrap his arms around her and tell her everything would be all right.
But he did not.
Eleanor put some space between them and rested her hands on the top of the half-wall. “William asked me to marry him and return with him and Miriam to England.”
Arran did not move or react to her statement. Did he truly not care that another man had proposed to her? That she might leave for good? A wave of sorrow washed over her as the rainbegan to pour in earnest, making it impossible to see past the lookout tower.
A fine mist wet her skin, causing her to shiver. “Do you not care?” she asked just above a whisper, hoping he would hear her over the sound of the storm.
Arran finally turned to look at Eleanor. Her eyes had adjusted, so she could see him more clearly in the dark. Pain and longing were written upon his face.
“Aye, I care. More than I should.”
A spark of hope lit in her heart. “I have not given him my answer.”
He studied her for a moment. “Why not?” His voice was strained, as if it was difficult for him to speak. “He is a good man, and he could offer you a good life.”
“I do not love him.”
He shook his head, his eyebrows coming together. “What good is love?”
What good was love? She stared at him. “It is the very thing our hearts long for. It is the thing for which marriage was made.”
“It does not serve a purpose in places like this, or in marriages like the one West has proposed. He is offering protection, stability, and comfort.” His voice almost sounded angry. “You would be foolish not to accept.”
“You do not seem surprised that he has asked me.”
He did not meet her eyes. “I suspected he was attracted to you, but he thought you and I had something between us.” He swallowed and finally returned his gaze to hers. “I set him straight and he said he would take you away from Assiniboia if you’d go.”
A flash of lightning filled the space. “But we do have something between us.” The storm and the impending departure of William and Miriam made her bold. Tears stung the backs of her eyes, but she did not let her gaze waver. “I’m in love with you.”
Thunder shook the tower as Arran drew her into his arms, intensity thrumming through his muscles. He held her tight, as if he was afraid to let her go.
She clung to him, wrapping her arms around his neck as her tears fell.
“You love me?” he asked, his lips pressed close to her ear.
“Yes,” she whispered.
He kissed her then, with all the passion and pent-up longing he had held for the past four years. Liquid warmth filled her stomach, pouring into her limbs, making them weak with desire. The kiss was both gentle and tender, and at the same time powerful and all-consuming. Eleanor could not get enough of Arran. His lips explored her mouth, her cheeks, her neck, making her entire body tremble. She entwined her fingers through his hair, holding him close, never wanting him to stop. This kiss was the kiss she had dreamt about for years, and it was as wonderful as she’d always expected.
“Eleanor,” he whispered as he clung to her. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” She hugged him close, allowing her fingers to explore the curls at the nape of his neck. “I’ve wanted you to kiss me since we walked in the gardens at St. Mary’s Isle.”
He was no longer kissing her, but he still held her, his face buried in her neck. “I have no respect for a man who takes advantage of another man’s fiancée.”
“I am not William’s fiancée. I have made no promises to him.” She needed Arran to understand. “How could I, when my heart belongs to you?”
“You shouldna say such things.”
“Why not?” Pain filled her voice. “Do you not love me, Arran?”
Chapter Twelve
The storm continued to blow, and the thunder and lightning were now simultaneously crashing and sparking overhead. Arran embraced Eleanor as if she were the very anchor that held him to the present. Everything else that had come before, and everything yet to come, meant nothing. All that mattered was this moment. His heart pounded like mad, and all his senses were sharpened. “Aye,” he whispered, unable to hide the truth any longer. “I love you more than life itself.”
