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‘I’m loving it,’ she said, her wistful expression fading as somewhere in the back of her head a voice added,I’m loving you.‘But I have to go at some point.’
CHAPTER TWELVE
SORENHADDECIDEDto walk rather than drive. The track through the forest was only just over a mile and it was clear most of the way.
When he arrived at his mother’s cottage she was in the garden, straw hat on her head, watering the herbs she cultivated.
His suggestion he install an irrigation system for her to cut down on labour had been politely refused. There was pleasure in the work, she said. Why would she want to cut it down?
She smiled when she saw him and then as he got closer and she could see his expression her frown appeared.
‘What’s wrong?’
‘Not wrong, right... I found Tor Rasmusson. I didn’t want you to find out from someone else.’
She nodded. ‘I never doubted you would.’ She searched his face. ‘It does not appear to have made you very happy...but then revenge rarely does.’
‘I cannot forgive and forget as you do. I am not that person.’
‘I don’t forget,’ his mother corrected gently. ‘There is more, isn’t there? Come sit in the shade and tell me.’
Soren gave his mother a potted version of the story. The only time she looked surprised was when he told her that he had brought Tor’s granddaughter here.
He outlined his reasons—well, not all of them.
‘I think that was very kind of you, Soren.’
‘I am notkind.’
‘It’s not a shameful thing, you know,’ she said sadly, ‘to care about someone else. You’re fond of this woman, aren’t you?’
‘She is Tor’s granddaughter.’
‘You are depriving yourself of so much pleasure in life.’
Saving himself from so much pain, he thought, wondering how she could still believe this when losing the man she loved had nearly killed her.
‘I am using her.’
‘Oh, Soren!’
‘It’s true. I wanted to see if I could trip her up... I wanted her to be guilty.’
His mother said nothing as Soren stared broodingly into the distance.
‘She is his granddaughter. How can I ever forget that?’
‘How will you know unless you try?’
Soren stared at his mother. ‘And you wouldn’t have a problem with that?’
‘Life is short, Soren, too short to let a chance of happiness slip away without even trying.’
‘What would be the point? When she finds out that I outed Tor, who she thinks is some sort of saint, she will never forgive me.’
‘Oh, Soren... I hate to repeat myself, but how will you know until you try?’
For the first time Anna was not eating dinner alone and she had dressed for the occasion: a turquoise chiffon slip dress that swirled when she moved. Her foot had healed enough for her to slip on some heels, and she had pinned her hair into a loose pile on the top of her head before freeing a few tendrils.
