“Why not?”
“Someday I can tell you. Not now.”
Her oldest was not pleased with the answer. He stomped off and didn’t speak to her for days. Christopher acted as their intermediary, but he was not happy with his mother as well and oftencried himself to sleep. He started sucking his thumb again, a habit she deplored and something he hadn’t done in years.
She was also lonely. Neal was her friend as well as her lover. She missed him to the point it physically hurt to be without him.
But she hadn’t had the dream.
If she had, she would have gone running back to London as quickly as she’d been able. However, the lack of the dream gave her hope that her plan would work.
Still, it was a lonely life.
Autumn came more rapidly on the coast. The wind off the sea grew colder. Thea had enough money to last them a long time. There wouldn’t be extras, but they would not lack for what was important.
And all the time, the baby within her grew.
On an October morning, Jonathan gave a shout that a visitor was riding down the road toward their cottage. They didn’t have visitors. Thea kept to herself and rarely ventured into the local village unless she had to do so.
She went out into the cottage garden. A rider was at the top of the hill above the house and starting his way down. She recognized him immediately.
Neal had found her.
“Boys, come into the house,” Thea ordered.
Christopher hurried to her, but Jonathan charged toward the dirt path in front of the house. “I know him,” Jonathan said. “I know that man.” He began running up the road. “It’s Lyon,” he shouted. “Lyon has come.”
Christopher tried to take off after him, with a happy “Lyon.”
Thea grabbed his arm, wanting to hold him, but her youngest defied her, twisting his way free and chasing after his brother. Thea watched in helpless wonder as her children jumped and danced as they welcomed Neal.
She didn’t know what to do. Her belly was not showing that much. Perhaps she could bluff her way into making him think she wanted nothing to do with him. But first she had to control her own wild emotions at realizing that he was here. He had come for her, and she realized she’d been waiting for him.
Thea escaped into the cottage. It had a wood floor and was decorated in a comfortable, homey style—yet she could not wait to leave it. She grabbed hold of a chair and clutched it with all she had. She had to be brave. She had to convince Neal that she had left him because she did not lovehim. Even if she went back with him,she could not let him love her.
She heard his voice out in the yard. The tone of it reverberated through her being. Her sons were speaking over each other in their enthusiasm to share how much they’d missed him. She took a step toward the window to look outside. He was holding them both in his arms and hugging them as if he would never let them go.
How many times when she’d been married to Boyd had she longed for her sons to know this exact sort of commitment and love from a father? And here it was.
Was she willing to take this away from them?
Neal saw her watching them. He stood. He looked very handsome in an open greatcoat over his riding clothes and tall boots. His hair was longer than it had been, and his whiskers were almost as rough as Harry’s.
Neal said something to her sons. They looked in the direction of the cottage and then took the reins of his horse. Neal started walking toward the door.
Thea wanted to run. She thought about charging into the back room and hiding, but there was no lock to stop him.
No, Neal had found her and the least she could do was face him.
A step sounded on the floor behind her. She could feel his presence, feel the bond that was between them. The bond she had to deny.
She turned, not knowing what to expect. He should be angry with her. Furious.
Instead, she discovered an expression of such compassion on her husband’s face that she could have wept.
“I don’t deserve you,” she said.
“I think differently.” His voice was harsh with pent-up emotion, emotion she could feel as clearly as if it had been her own.
