She didn’t expect him to truly answer her, so his reply caught off guard. “He left on the first tide. Parker and I didn’t give him much time.”
No, she had assumed they wouldn’t. “Parker can be very efficient. Where did you send him?”
“To a place of his choosing.”
“Maryland?” she guessed.
Her father frowned. “How did you know?”
“It is where we both would have gone.” She hugged the book to her chest.
Coming around to sit on the footstool in front of her, her father placed his hands gently on her arms. “The ship is gone, Lyssa. He can’t come back. He and I agreed.” He paused and then said, “I know I may seem harsh to you, but someday you will understand.”
“I might.” She shook her head. “Would mother have?”
“Unfair, Lyssa.”
“No, Papa, I’m being honest. At least tell me you paid him well?”
Her father snorted. “I paid him his weight in gold,” he said and for the first time since Ian’s leaving she wanted to smile.
“Good. He earned it.” She kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, Papa.” She rose, forcing him to sit back, and started for the door.
His voice stopped her. “Lyssa, I am sorry.”
“No, you aren’t,” she replied without heat. “But perhaps all parents think they know what is best.”
She didn’t wait for his response but left to go to her lonely room.
The Davidson tartan was folded neatly at the foot of the bed. She pulled the pins from her hair to set it free and put on her nightdress. Wrapping her plaid around her, she sat in a reading chair by the window. Candlelight was not the best to read by, but she had no choice. She needed to read the rest of the poem and savor its haunting words.
Someday she’d feel complete again. But right now, it was as if she’d lost half her soul, half her conscience, half her reason for being.
So she could be excused if when she saw Ian’s face framed in the branches of the tree some two feet outside her dark window, her first thought was she must be dreaming—until he reached to knock on the glass pane and almost fell out of the tree.
Chapter Twenty
“LYSSA, open the window. Let me in.”
ItwasIan. She hadn’t made him up out of dashed dreams and lost hopes.
Lyssa bounced out of the chair and raised the sash. “Ian.” She said his name like a blessing.
“Aye, and I’m not good at climbing. Nor do I like heights.” He reached for her window ledge. The branch shook under his weight. “And this bloody branch wasn’t made to hold my weight.”
“Be careful,” she warned.
“I’m trying,” he promised just as a crack sounded. He leaped the distance and practically fell into her arms, taking both of them to the carpeted floor.
Lyssa hugged him close and drew in a deep breath, reveling in the scent of warm male and fresh air—Ian’s scent. “What areyou doing here?” she asked happily. “You are supposed to be on your way across an ocean.”
He brushed her nose with his. “I can’t leave without you.”
Struggling to make sense of everything, Lyssa asked, “What of your sisters and their children?” Ian had started nibbling the tender skin beneath her chin. She placed a hand on each side of his face and made him look at her. “That’s how my father made you do his bidding, isn’t it? He threatened your family.”
“It is—”
“I thought as much. His behavior goes beyond being misguided or bullying. To threaten your sisters and their children is reprehensible. No wonder he’s been acting so guilty.”
