His epistolary friendship with Helen was over. She had cut him off, just as she had when she had held out her letter to the Duke of Dunmore, shoving it into his chest and telling him she couldn’t be his lover anymore.
Helen knew her worth.
She wouldn’t waste herself on a man who stayed hidden behind missives, lurking in London like the scoundrel he called himself. No matter that the man was doing everything he could to improve the lot of Dunmore and Kinmarloch.
She demanded a high price for the privilege of knowing her heart. And she was right to do so.
And the price—did he really think it was that high? He had lived years now behind the façade of a rakehell, concealing the man he was, the man he could be, the man he now wanted to be. Giving that up wouldn’t be a price. It would be a reward.
And was there anything else in the world he wanted as much as he wanted her?
No.
But was he worthy of her?
No.
Did he have anything to offer her besides his money and his title?
He heard the case clock strike the hour. He took out his watch and looked at it. Midnight. The hour when he thought of her in Kinmarloch, in her bed, without him.
He came to three conclusions as the clock made its twelfth soft chime.
One. It didn’t matter whether or not he was worthy. He must cast that into the wind and hope theAnemoiwere kind to him.
Two. He had something to give her. Yes, his desire for her, his cock, his tongue, his lips, his hands. But also something he didn’t know he had to give before.
His love. He could name it now for what it was. Something more than admiration and respect. Something much greater than physical passion. Something that eclipsed possession, and even obsession. He didn’t know the size of it but he suspected it was as limitless as a blue expanse of sky. And it belonged to her.
Three. His heart, his mind, his soul—every piece of him, apart from his body, was in Scotland.
The woman for him, the only woman for him, was in Scotland.
Therefore, he should be in Scotland.
Thirty-Two
Helen got into the boat, shoved off from the shore, and rowed into the middle of her loch. This was a luxury she allowed herself in these relatively warm days of summer. She went out in this little boat which was always by the empty hut at the edge of the loch. She rowed the way she had seen Jack Pike row on the River Thames when she had looked at him and thought of him as a young man in the navy and had imagined what a son of his might look like.
She could afford this now. This time and this strength to do something that brought no food to her table. The new steward of the duchy of Dunmore made a point of coming to Kinmarloch and buying from her farmers instead of at the market at Cumdairessie. And buying her own lambs as well. Duncan’s father’s forge was busy with work for the castle and the stable there.
There would be no want this winter in Kinmarloch. Everyone, barring illness or accident, should make it through. Including herself.
Duncan had come to her a month ago, frowning, worried. He had been offered a job at the castle as a farrier, but he had delayed accepting it, thinking Helen might feel abandoned. She had urged him to take the position.
“But can I still be yer honor guard, my lady, even if I work for the Duke of Dunmore?”
“Aye, Duncan. Ye will always be my honor guard. Take the post.”
She had left the cottage quickly then, Mags sitting in a chair, her forgotten darning in her lap, Duncan hitching up the legs of his trousers in preparation for kneeling at her feet.
The wedding would be in two weeks.
Helen brought her oars up and got off her seat and lay down in the bottom of the boat. She looked up at the sky. She heard her name, but one often did hear odd things when one was out on the water. Ghost voices.
The sky was not the beautiful blue dome it sometimes was. Clouds scudded quickly across her view. Gray clouds, not white like the lace which edged the neck and the sleeves of the dress she was wearing today. It was the one dress she had taken with her from London since she had to have one to travel in.
She would have time to earn the money for a winter dress, herself. And so far, she had managed to keep this dress clean. She touched the lace around the neckline of the dress.
