They never came.
He’d been drowning in those memories since the day he left Scotland. They’d rolled and tossed him, left him spluttering, gasping, and choking, a broken bit of wreckage on the sand. But now, when he thought of love, of promises, of lifetimes, he didn’t think of Isobel. He didn’t see Isobel’s face. He saw moonlight on damp red hair, and long, dark eyelashes tipped with glittering drops of water.
He saw Lucy.
He hadn’t said anything about Isobel to Lucy because…
Because Isobel no longer mattered to him.
Isobel no longer mattered.
The lady he thought he’d loved beyond measure. The lady who’d hurt him in a way he’d believed he’d never recover from. The lady who’d broken his heart.
Isobel was a part of a painful past, but she had nothing to do with his future. He hadn’t thought of her in weeks. No,months. Since he’d first set eyes on Lucy, she’d dominated his every thought, his every action.
Lucy was staring at him in shocked silence.
“Lucy.” Ciaran held his hand out instinctively, as if he could stop her from drawing the conclusion she was clearly already drawing.
“You…you werebetrothed?” All at once Lucy’s face drained of color, until it was as white as the bedsheet still clutched in her hand. “It’s the Scottish lady you told me about that morning on the beach, isn’t it? The first lady you ever kissed? The lady you’ve dreamed of marrying since you were a boy?”
Her face went from white to red, then back to such a stark white Ciaran felt a stab of fear in his chest. “Yes, it’s her, but it’s been over between us for some time.”
Lucy just stared at him, her eyes wide with disbelief.
Ciaran sank down on the edge of the bed. “It ended when my family left Scotland. She jilted me, and I haven’t seen or spoken to her since.”
Lucy swallowed. “H—how long were you betrothed to her?”
Ciaran winced at the question, knowing his answer would only make things worse. “Three years. I was hardly more than a lad when I offered for her, and our families insisted on a long betrothal.”
“Three years.” Lucy sounded dazed. “You’ve known this lady your entire life, and you were betrothed to her for three years. All this time you’ve been insisting on marrying me, you never once thought to mention her?”
“I wasn’t trying to hide her, Lucy. I swear it. I just—she doesn’t matter anymore.”
“She doesn’t matter?” Lucy repeated, as if she couldn’t make sense of the words. “I think she matters very much. You must have loved her, or you never would have asked for her hand. I think you still love her, Ciaran. If I’d known about her, I never would have…” She trailed off, but the look she cast at the disheveled bed revealed her thoughts more clearly than words.
If I’d known, I never would have brought you to my bed.
Ciaran dragged a hand down his face. How could he make Lucy understand it had never been about Isobel, when he’d only just realized it himself? “I was besotted with her at one time, yes, but it was a boy’s infatuation, not a man’s love. We’ve been apart for more than a year, ever since I left Scotland. I don’t love her anymore. This isn’t about Isobel, Lucy. I thought it was, but I was wrong.”
Lucy let out an incredulous laugh. “Ciaran, don’t you see? She’s the reason you’re so determined to return to Scotland. She broke your heart, and now you’re going back for her. It’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“No! I don’t want Isobel back. I thought I did at one time, but…don’t you see, Lucy? My past, and Scotland, and Isobel are all tangled together in my mind. I didn’t understand it at first, but I was never heartbroken over her. I just…I miss Scotland. I wanted to go back because I wanted my home again.”
Except Scotlandwasn’this home. Not anymore.
It hadn’t been for a long time. His family was here—Finn, Lachlan, Isla, baby Georgie, even Lady Chase.
His home was with them. With them, and with Lucy.
“Lucy, please listen to me.” He reached for her, surprised to see his hands were shaking. “I’ve made a mess of this from the start, but I want to fix it. You have to let me—”
“I—I think it’s best if I don’t go to Buckinghamshire with you, Ciaran,” she whispered, drawing away from him.
Ciaran’s heart stopped. “No. Don’t say that.”
She wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I’ll stay here at the Swan and Anchor until Lord Vale has settled things with Eloisa. Once I know she and my aunt are safe, I’ll return to Devon.”
