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She was versed in the subject. She’d spent her entire life like this, trying to not inconvenience anyone with her misery. And he felt like another kind of bastard, being one of those people, forcing her to pretend in order for him to reach his goal.

He remembered that night when he’d come to her room and she’d said that she had a headache. She lay there silently, with her head on his shoulder. How much sicker was she that night than what she appeared to be?

How much pain was she in right now, as she smiled at him, willing his worries away?

Ian didn’t want to think about it. Not now. It only brought him pain. She shivered in his arms, and he quickly tugged off his coat and covered her shoulders with it.

She looked at his single shirt now covering his form and frowned. “You’ll be cold,” she said hoarsely.

She was worried about him.

Ian kissed her on the forehead, his fingertips brushing her cheeks. “You never have to worry about me, love.”

He hoisted her upon a horse, unhitched the horses from the carriage, and tied them to each other. Then he settled behind her and tightened his arms around her. He leaned forward, his lips touching her ear. “We are almost there. Hold on just a little more.”

He held her closer to him and urged the horse into a gallop until the sounds of hoofbeats drowned out the thoughts in his head, and the rain washed away all of his worries. Only one goal was present in his mind, and that was to get Helen to safety as soon as he could.

Darkness descended upon the earth by the time Ian got to the estate gates. He galloped through, stopping right at the doorstep.

There was no time to feel the melancholy brought about by his return to his boyhood home. His heart didn’t squeeze painfully as he’d thought it would upon his arrival. His only worry was for Helen who was now slumped in his arms.

He didn’t dare move.

The footman rushed out of the door, pausing for a moment once he saw Ian and Helen huddled up on the horse. He must have thought them to be beggars, because he stepped back, ready to give them the speech to move on.

“Help me with her, will you?” Ian barked.

The footman hesitated. He was clearly confused to be met with a demanding tone from a man with an overgrown beard who wore simple peasant’s clothing and held an unmoving woman in his arms.

“Move!” Ian barked once more.

The footman reluctantly stepped forward and took Helen into his arms. Ian jumped down and immediately collected Helen from the confused footman. He cuddled her closer to his chest and ran up the stairs.

“I’m sorry, sir, but ye cannae—!” the footman called after him, but it was too late.

Ian took the stairs three at a time and pulled the door open with such force it hit the wall.

He stepped inside the house and immediately Charles, their old butler, appeared in front of him. He opened his mouth to say something, but Ian interrupted him.

“Charles, there is no time for arguments. Is my room still mine?”

The old butler squinted at him and then his mouth fell open. He quickly collected himself and nodded. “Aye, Master Ian. It’s such a happy occasion to see ye here.”

“Yes, right. Get the doctor here, and have the maids prepare my adjoining room.” He started up the stairs but had to pause again on the landing of the first floor as his father, the Earl of Atholl, appeared from the corridor followed by Annie, Ian’s dear sister.

Confusing emotions played on Ian’s face, a smile, not fully formed on his lips, his eyes partly blazing with ire and partly glowing with happiness. The mix of emotions was further muddled by the sound of cheers coming from somewhere on the first floor. Wherever the earl and Annie just came from, it must have been a party.

“Ian,” Annie said as she stepped closer, her arms outstretched.

Ian swallowed and tightened his arms around Helen. “Annie. It’s not the time for a cheery reunion. I need to get my—” He cleared his throat, his gaze falling on his father’s disapproving features.

This was the moment of truth. The way he introduced Helen would decide his life, and hers, for the foreseeable future. He could have told them she was just a travel companion or someone he met along the road and decided to accompany because she was very sick.

This way, he would be dooming her to ruin in the eyes of his father, who already thought lowly of him and the company he kept. But Helen would be free.

The other option would be to introduce her as his wife. And in that case, he would be binding her to him forever.

The thought made him oddly pleased. She would be his and no one would stand in their way anymore. The protective—possessive—part of him rose to the surface demanding for him to declare to the world that she was his and his alone.