Misery was etched in every line of his body. Even from this distance, she could see how much he was hurting. Once again, she was struck with the certainty that he didn’t really want to send her way, but somehow felt he must.
A sudden shiver ran down her spine. Had he been trying to protect her from himself? Did he want her to leave so she wouldn’t be there when he hurt himself?
His mother had thrown herself off that very cliff…
Oh, God.She had to stop him.
Pushing away from the window, she lunged across the room and out the door. She rushed down the stairs and then hurried outside, pausing only for a second to catch her breath as the chill wind cut through the thin silk of her robe.
Ignoring the discomfort, she tore down the path toward the cliffs, scanning the horizon for any sign of him.Please, God, don’t let me be too late.
At last, she saw him. He stood at the very edge of the cliff, his hands thrust deep within the pockets of his long overcoat, his dark hair whipping in the breeze. His head was tilted toward the sky, his eyes were closed, and he seemed to sway in the abyss of some terrible emotion.
Skidding to a stop a few yards away, Natalia fought to regain her breath as she pondered the best way to approach him. She wanted to scream his name and force him away from the edge. She wanted to shake him for his foolishness and make him swear he’d never even think of doing such a thing again. But she didn’t want to startle him. She was far too close to losing him as it was.
“Dylan,” she called. “What are you doing?”
He opened his eyes and turned his head toward the sound of her voice. Those blue-gray depths were filled with despair, but she saw no sign of desperation.
“Natalia,” he said, with a weary sigh. “Must we have this conversation again?”
She clutched her robe more tightly around her waist and took a few hesitant steps forward, stopping an arm’s length away. Was she close enough now to stop him from doing something horrible?
“That’s not why I’m here. I saw you from my window… I just wanted to make sure you were all right.”
He flicked a quick glance at the keep, then back, a frown pulling at the corners of his mouth as he took in her dishabille. “You ran out here in your robe? What were you thinking? You’ll catch your death of cold.” As he spoke, he shrugged out of his coat, closed the distance between them, and wrapped it around her shoulders.
The coat held his warmth, and by putting it on her, he’d stepped away from the precipice. Overwhelmed with relief, she flung herself into his arms.
“Oh, Dylan,” she whispered, clinging to him with all her strength. “I was so afraid.”
He tensed beneath her unexpected onslaught. For a moment, she thought he might pull away. Then his arms came around her, and his lips brushed her temple. “Why were you afraid?”
She tilted her head, blinking back her tears so she could look into his eyes. “I thought you were going to jump off the cliff. I thought you were going to kill yourself.”
“Kill myself?” He gave an incredulous laugh and released her. “Why would you think such a thing?”
She shook her head, suddenly embarrassed. As usual, she’d jumped to the wrong conclusion. How foolish she must appear, running after him this way, throwing herself into his arms after he’d told her in no uncertain terms he didn’t want her.
His gaze narrowed, and his frown returned. “You’ve heard about my mother, haven’t you?” He turned his back on her once again, staring out to sea.
“Yes,” she admitted. “Your… Mrs. Macpherson told me about it. I’m so sorry, Dylan.”
She’d almost called the old woman his grandmother. What a slip to make, especially at a time like this.
A time like this…
She let her gaze rest on his broad shoulders. They were so tense he looked as though he carried the weight of the entire world upon them. Perhaps what he needed most was someone to help him carry the load.
Since he’d already decided it couldn’t be her, perhaps she could at least leave him with a parting gift—a father and grandmother who obviously loved him.
He made an impatient gesture with his hand. “Well, even if you’re worried that suicide is hereditary, you needn’t be afraid I’ll jump.” He glanced at her over his shoulder. “My mother didn’t kill herself, you see. I was there the night Warren pushed her to her death.”
Natalia caught her breath, stunned by what he’d just revealed. The Earl of Warren had killed Fiona? This was what had been troubling him last night. He must’ve found out that truth while he’d been in the village yesterday. This was why he’d tried to push her away. The poor man believed his father had murdered his mother.
Gathering all her courage, Natalia stepped forward and wrapped her hand around his. “I can’t even imagine how hard this has been for you.” She circled him until her own back faced the edge of the cliff and the crashing sea, forcing him to meet her gaze. “But there’s something I think you should know. Something that might make all of this just a little easier to bear.”
He caught his breath, and then stared down at her, a strange, watchful look on his face. “What are you talking about, love?”
