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She laughed. “Did you not notice the mob that greeted you this morning? The villagers don’t want your help. They want you gone.”
He shook his head. “That wasn’t a mob, it was a band of fools.”
“They may be fools, but they’re big, strong fools. They could make real trouble for you, if they wished. And Gideon Myles is no simpleton.”
“Gideon Myles.” He snorted. “What is that man to you?”
Was that sudden edge in his voice jealousy? It shouldn’t thrill her, but it did. Straight down to her toes.
“He’s a business associate. And a friend.”And a smuggler who won’t hesitate to use violence, if it suits his purpose. She cleared her throat and continued, “Exactly what are your plans, Rhys?”
“I plan to marry you.”
That thrill shot through her again. “Other than that.”
“I plan to live up to my responsibilities as lord. Give the village some means of support. It will take time, but I’ll rebuild the estate.”
“Rebuild?Rebuild Nethermoor Hall? Whyever would you want to do that?” She knew what kind of childhood he’d endured in that house. Why would he wish to rebuild it? Not to mention, no matter how much he wished it, Gideon Myles and his associates would never allow such a thing to occur. “And how do you think you’ll accomplish the construction? The local men will never work for you.”
“They will if I pay them enough.”
She shook her head. “The older ones still hate your father. The younger ones, what few there are, have grown up hearing all manner of superstition and tales. They’ll be afraid of you.”
“Well, if I can’t find local labor, I’ll just have to bring in workers from Plymouth or Exeter, I suppose.”
“That will cost you dear.”
“I’ve some lands in the North I plan to sell. And I’ve lately come into some money. Not enough to restore Nethermoor Hall to full grandeur, but wisely invested it’ll put a house together and leave enough left over to live on.”
And if the investments weren’t wise and they failed, what then? He’d be bankrupt with no source of rents or income. He’d leave again. Somehow every possibility ended with him leaving again.
“You won’t need to do this anymore when you marry me,” he said, looking around the room. “Work, I mean. I’ll provide for you and your father both.”
At the mention of her father, she felt a sharp twist in her chest. Drat him, he was making this so difficult.
“But I like the work here,” she protested. “I’m proud of what I’ve done with this place, and I’ve plans to do more still.”
“You could do far more as the lady of the manor.”
“Rhys … you’re being so naïve.”
His eyebrows rose. “Me, accused of naïveté. I must say, I never thought that day would come. I’ve a mind to engrave the date on a plaque.”
“You’ve forgotten what life’s like out here. Right now it’s a pleasant summer’s morn, but you must recall how winter gets. It’s harsh, lonely, desolate. You can’t actually want to live here again. And we’ve learned to survive without a lord. Just go.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Why the devil not?” Meredith certainly would, if she were Rhys.
“Circumstances would only pull me back. It’s fate.”
With a low groan, she propped her elbows on the table and buried her face in her hands.
“You don’t believe me,” he said, leaning forward. “I know. But when a man treads the border between this world and the next as often as I have, he starts to see the hand of fate everywhere. Sometimes in bright flashes, other times subtler shades. It’s like discovering a whole new color, one most people just can’t see. But I see it.” He pulled her hands from her face. “When you look at me, your eyes shine with it. I’m telling you, this is meant to be.”
Her heart fluttered. “And what makes you so sure of that?”
“This.” He gestured at the breakfast laid out on the table between them. A few rolls, small earthenware crocks of butter and preserves. Two mugs of coffee and a dish of fresh cream. The plates were scattered randomly; crumbs dotted the checked tablecloth. The scene hardly looked like an omen of fate to her, but then—she thought she grasped his meaning. The warm light shone on them both with familiar intent, leaving them nowhere to hide their imperfections from each other. She hadn’t even pinned her hair properly this morning. To any casual observer, they would look like a couple having their thousandth breakfast together, instead of their first.
