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Another day I took her on the tour of my distillery. The business of whisky-making took time and care, and I’d found it the perfect escape from the day-to-day running of Silver Inc. It had also helped that it had nothing whatsoever to do with Domingo.
It mattered to me more than I’d thought that she was interested in it, and asked all kinds of questions on the tour. I’d wanted to give her a taste of our first batch, but obviously that would have to wait until after the baby was born.
She was so easy to be with. Easy to share with. She made every day brighter, and I’d forgotten how simply being around her brought me joy.
Except it made the beast in me hungrier and hungrier. As if all the time in the world with her wouldn’t be enough. Nothing would. I wanted to keep her here in Glen Creag, never let her leave. We could bring our child up here and it would be perfect. I could have them both all to myself for ever.
But that was what the beast wanted, not the man, and I would never give in to it. No matter what Papa had said to me that night, I wasn’t just like him. I was different, I was better, and even though it was getting harder and harder to be better where Jenny was concerned, I had to be for her sake.
When we finally left Glen Creag I would have to be ruthless with myself. I’d warned her that I would have to retain a certain amount of emotional distance but, since I wasn’t willing to hurt her, I couldn’t completely withdraw my friendship from her, not again.
It would be difficult—torture—but I could do it.
I also had to be strong with regard to my other little secret.
Since that day of the wonderful little picnic she’d arranged for me, when I’d nearly told her about it, I’d managed to keep it locked down.
She had to keep believing I was a good man, keep thinking that I would make a good father. Because if she didn’t I would be lost. I would have nothing to aim for, nothing to strive for. I wanted to be the man she saw when she looked at me, both for her and for our child, which meant I could never tell her.
Which was fine. She might get under most of my defences with pathetic ease, but not that one. That one would have to remain obdurate.
A few days after I’d taken her on a tour of the distillery, and after another riding trip, where this time I brought a picnic for her, I decided that there was one last place on the estate that I wanted her to see.
My collection room.
I hoped that sharing it with her would make her feel at ease. I’d caught her looking speculatively at me a couple of times, and wondered if it was to do with my slip at the picnic, but she hadn’t broached the topic again. Perhaps if I gave her this last piece of myself she’d forget about the thing I didn’t want to tell her.
I found her curled up in one of the armchairs in the small library a few days later, with her nose in a book. It reminded me very much of how she’d used to be in my study, tucked away in the armchair, reading. She’d look up from her book and see me, and then she’d smile, and her face would light up.
My chest tightened as she did that now, putting down her book and looking up at me, her smile lighting the room in the same way it always did.
‘What are we going to do today? Please tell me we’re going riding.’
I smiled at her eagerness. ‘This afternoon, perhaps. Right now, though, I have something I want to show you.’ I held out my hand.
Instantly she got up and came over to me, her fingers threading through mine. ‘Oh, what?’
Her hand felt small and delicate and warm, so I held it gently. ‘You’ll see.’
I let her out of the room and headed towards the front door.
‘You know, Con,’ she murmured as we stepped outside, ‘we’ve skirted around it, but we need to talk about a few things.’
We did. Our wedding loomed, and so did the question of where we would live and other such practicalities. I needed to deal with the Valentin situation also. But I didn’t want to think about those things right now. They could wait.
‘We will,’ I said. ‘Later.’
I led her across the grass towards the cottage and she didn’t speak, although her fingers tightened around mine.
Inside the cottage, I went to the shelving unit and pressed the hidden button to reveal the palm lock. I unlocked the door, pulled it open, and gestured for her to go in first.
She gave me a worried look, her beautiful brown eyes questioning. ‘Are you sure?’
‘Yes.’
‘Okay.’ She went to the doorway and stepped through it into the room beyond.
I’d thought I’d feel tense at her presence there, the way I had before, but I didn’t. As soon as she stepped through the doorway something clicked into place. A sense of rightness. As if she belonged there, along with all of my other precious items.
