He could demand she stay, forbid her to travel. He could keep her here physically. He’d every right. By law, she belonged to him. But he couldn’t make herwantto stay any more than his father had been able to remake him in his own image.
No.He didn’t want her to be here against her will.
He wanted her voluntarily present, not just in body, but in soul. And he sensed that, if he forced the former, he’d forever lose the latter. An awful paradox…if he truly wanted to keep her, he had to let her go. And this time, he felt like he was losing not just a rib, but an entire arm.
“I’ll set things to rights here,” he promised. “When you come back, things will be very different.”
Bleakly, she met his gaze in the mirror.
He came up behind her. “But before you go, kiss me.”
She appeared to deflate.
“Please,” he added. “Just a kiss, I swear.”
She bit her lips, studying him doubtfully. “Kissing me won’t make me stay.”
“I’m not trying to make you stay.”
Slowly, she turned around. “You aren’t?”
Ah, Cassie.Whyhadn’t he appreciated what he had found in her sooner?
He took her hand into his. “I’m only trying to remind you of the reasons you should plan to come back.”
She stared up into his eyes, a weary, helpless expression on her face. But the softness he’d glimpsed once or twice before remained, if dimmed. In that softness he read a message he should have understood long before. One he might have responded to if he’d been open, if he had not believed his heart had been given to someone else.
She loved him.
He swayed back on his feet, moved by the realization’s power.
Possibly against her will.
Bittersweet revelation, considering. But something he could hold onto in the coming days.
Gently, he bent his head and brushed his lips lightly over hers. Even brief contact kindled an invigorating rush, a sudden awareness of the wonder of being truly and fully alive. He wanted to linger, to deepen it, to hold her tight. But this wasn’t a kiss of passion.
This was a kiss of promise.
He kept his eyes closed as he pulled back. Eventually, he must open them, but for now, he wanted to savor her taste.
She turned away and then resumed packing.
“Will you be taking Mercy?” he asked.
“He’s not mine to take, is he?”
He couldn’t answer.
His time at the Church and at the cottage had been so tense, so chaotic, he’d completely forgotten to discuss the pup with Viv, or, rather, Lady Pennington.
He would only think of her thusly from now on, he resolved.
He looked down into Mercy’s sweet face.
One way or another, he would make sure they were able to keep their dog.
“Cassie?”
