Love.Her heart thrilled at the casual endearment. Perhaps there was still hope.
She reached for his other hand and squeezed them both reassuringly. “I know this will come as a great shock to you, Dylan. But yesterday I discovered the Earl of Warren is not your father.”
* * *
She knows about Patrick.
Dylan stared at his wife in open-mouthed astonishment. He couldn’t imagine how she had found out, but the news of his humble beginnings didn’t seem to bother her in the least.
She made love to me after she knew the truth.
“Your mother was having an affair,” she continued, her cheeks pinkening. “She was in love with Patrick Macpherson. He is your real father.”
He bowed his head and pressed his face against her hair, so she couldn’t see the maelstrom of emotions her words had provoked. Dear God, she knew. She knew, and it didn’t matter.
What a fool he’d been. He’d said terrible things to hurt her—he’d nearly succeeded in driving her away.
All this in a selfish attempt to keep her from breaking his heart.
But even now, after everything he’d done, she still cared enough about him to run outside in the bitter cold clad in nothing but her robe and nightgown. Hell, he was half convinced that if he were to step toward the edge of the cliff right now, she’d hold onto his ankle like a bulldog and refuse to let go.
Because she loves me.How could he have been so blind?
His body began to shake with suppressed laughter.
“It’s all right,” she whispered, cupping his head in her hands. “Cry if you need to. There’s no shame in it.”
“I’m not crying.” Laughing openly, he picked her up in his arms and headed away from the cliffs.
“You’re laughing.” She stared up at him, utterly confused. “Why are you laughing?”
“Because I love you,” he admitted. “I love you so much.”
“You love me?” Natalia frowned and shook her head. “Are you listening? I just told you the Earl of Warren isn’t your father.”
“I already knew that.” Dylan cradled her tighter in his arms, leaving the cliffs and the crashing fury of the waves far behind them. “Those things I said… God, can you ever forgive me? I thought you wouldn’t want me if you found out my father was a mere groom.”
Her exotic eyes flooded with tears. “Of course, I forgive you. I love you, Dylan. I’ve always loved you.”
She loves me. God, how he’d needed to hear her say the words. It made all the difference in the world, gave him the strength to face anything.
Grinning, he bent down to kiss her, but she stopped him, bracing her hands against his chest. “I love you, and I forgive you, but I’m still furious.”
They’d reached the outer courtyard of the keep, and he reluctantly put her down. “You have every right to be furious.” He let her slide slowly down his body, keeping her pressed against him when she’d regained her feet. “I acted like an utter jack ass.”
“You’re an idiot,” she agreed, shoving away from him and staring up at him with wide, wounded eyes. “I don’t care whether your father is a chimney sweep or the Prince of Wales. How could you even think such a thing would matter to me?”
He sighed and speared his hand through his damp hair. “Let’s go inside, love. We still have a lot to talk about.”
“Yes, we certainly do.” Turning, she strode toward the front door, which she’d left wide open in her battle to save him.
He followed, sealing the howling wind and cutting chill outside where they belonged. The great hall was warm and welcoming, both fireplaces crackling to keep the gloom and dampness away. Taking Natalia’s hand, he tugged her toward the large comfortable chair where she’d fallen asleep waiting for him last night.
“Come here.” He coaxed her to sit in his lap, cocooning them both in the warm folds of his overcoat. “You can yell at me all you like. Just give me a moment to enjoy having you in my arms again.”
She laughed and relaxed against him. “Oh, Dylan. I don’t want to yell at you. I just wish you would have believed in me a little bit more.”
“Well, I think we both had a hard time believing,” he told her diplomatically. “But I’m going to try harder, Natalia. Just don’t give up on me.”
