The sudden absence of tension was head-spinning. She clutched the edge of her chair and sank deeper into the cushions before her body gave up entirely and slid to the floor.
All this time, her father’s ghost had held her back from giving herself over to emotion. Emotions were weak and fleeting. She had to be hard and cold to keep others from using her ashehad done.
All she’d ever done was doubt. She looked at herbrotheranew, seeing the sharp edges from when they’d first met had all but vanished by the power and smoothing grace of love. The epiphany was life-changing. And the ridiculous man had come to it first.
She scrunched her nose at him. “When did you become so insufferably wise?”
Hamish smirked. “My wife’s words, not mine. I was too thick-headed to see it too.”
“Are you calling me stubborn?”
He leaned back in his chair. “Frankly, it’s an improvement. You’ve been a cold fish since the day we met. After so many months living with you, I was beginning to think you incapable of delicate feeling. But one conversation with Renard and I see it now;Iwas the cold one.” He lowered his head. “I expected you to act a certain way based on my own ignorant observations and prejudices. And then I made inaccurate assumptions. Forgive me?”
Once again, a taut thread snapped, one that had knotted around her lungs. With it gone, she breathed in an equal footing between them, a foundation to build.
“Should I thank Charlotte for this new humble side of you?” Camille asked. “Or have you done the unthinkable and realized your flaws make you as fallible as the rest of us?”
Hamish didn’t take the bait. Hedidgrin. “You’re fallible now? Seems I’m not the only one learning self-discovery.”
Camille rolled her eyes. “I’ve had enough emotional revelations today. Any morediscoveryand I’m likely to become violent. Unless that is your hope?”
“Depends.” Hamish looked down at her booted feet. “Do you have any more shoes at disposal for throwing than the two on your feet?”
“I could use the books on the shelves.”
“Too heavy to throw.”
“Not when angered.”
Hamish eyed the hundreds of volumes. “Wait until Renard visits to test your theory, please.”
“I never said I’d talk with him.”
Hamish inclined his head. “No, you didn’t.”
Camille smiled at his confident expression, and it felt good. The bridge forming between them did as well.
The emotional ride of the morning continued to dip and turn in directions she’d never thought possible. Discovering, mending, and now deepening relationships; who’d have thought humans capable of such growth and change? Of course the change wasn’t all happy awakenings. The bruises and heart ache previous had been nothing compared to the torture to come.
One last relationship needed to change, but what kind remained shrouded in uncertainty. Seeing Renard again, being touched by him, those awakenings had been the same as before; her body demanding control from her mind. But her mind would lead the next steps going forward. A mind that grasped that emotion and logic weren’t clashing enemies, but a harmonizing of thought and soul.
Hamish rose from his chair and offered her a hand up. “Shall we take the carriage back? If we leave now, we’ll make it back in plenty of time for dinner.”
“Eager to ride back to your wife?”
Hamish didn’t hide the confirmation on his face or in his one-word reply. “Yes.”
Camille took his hand. She liked his directness and shameless feeling. Another few months with Charlotte and the man may learn to be more thantolerablecompany. “Very well.” She’d need to manage the gut-churning bumps and turns eventually before that evening.
When she’d need to take the carriage out for one last visit.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
It was onlynatural for Camille to answer her brother’s door that late afternoon after so many months of anxious vetting. It was instinct and memory and, since Mr. Frendstone was quite taken with his new role as the duchess’s unofficial bodyguard, someone had to take over the old man’s diligent post.
But when the door opened, it was not to admit a formal caller to Her Grace. It was a call of a much more intimate nature. There’d be no need to take the carriage to Lux Manor.
Renard bowed to her, tipping his hat and offering a guarded smile. “Good evening, Miss Forthright.”
