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In fact, a large portion of his life recently was becoming dictated by what Jo said, what she did, what she wanted. What she needed.
Amazingly, it felt right.
Unlike Bella, Jo’s words and actions and wishes felt an extension of him, of Benneit, not Lochmore.
He opened his eyes, staring at the canopy.
So this was love.
Even as the words formed in his mind, a welling of heat spread upwards through his body, expanding him.
I love Jo.
It wasn’t completely a revelation. It had been forming, weaving itself into his fabric with each word and look and gesture on the trip north, then put together as she explored his world, him. As she made room for him and Jamie in her thoughtful little world. As he came first to see and then realise the wealth under her cautious, watchful exterior.
I love you, Jo.
The words felt inadequate, as far from reflecting what he felt as a speck on the horizon reflected the reality of a great mountain.
Do you love me?
He swung his legs off the bed, an echo of the fear and pain of the last week pinching at his skin.
That question was more dangerous than any of his thoughts. Because if she did... How could he walk away if she did?
How could he walk away even if she did not? Even if her feelings were nothing more than lust and the kind of warmth she offered those within her circle of care.
There must be something wrong with him to feel he could not weather losing her. A woman he had only truly known for a month of his life. That it should be sitting in the same corner of himself that raged and cowered when something threatened Jamie.
Had Bella ever been there? Even at the height of his passion for her he wasn’t certain he had felt she was essential to him. His father had never truly been that, and he could not reach back with clarity to his mother’s loss. With Bella he found the kind of union his parents had—a mix of sexual fascination and antagonism—but he had kept most of himself apart, just as he had with his parents. With Jo he couldn’t hide himself even when he tried.
Even Jamie was different—Jamie was his to care for and carry through life until he could walk alone. He wanted Jo for himself. For her. For ever. The thought that the rest of his life would stretch out without her was...
Wrong.
There had to be something he could do.
But he could think of nothing that wouldn’t make Jamie pay the price for his selfishness. If not for Jamie he could have turned his back on all of this, not without pain because Lochmore was also his to care for, but he could have done it and paid the price. But how could he expect Jamie to pay that price for the rest of his life? By shaming Tessa McCrieff, he would be shaming Jamie.
It was impossible.
* * *
‘Mrs Merry says the sun will hold so what must she do but decide to wash all the linen and bring three girls from the village, each sillier than the next, making sheep’s eyes at Angus and Ewan when they should be hard at work,’ Beth complained as she laid out the green-sprigged muslin dress.
Jo tried to commiserate as Beth prodded her into the dress but failed utterly. She treasured these bright, warm days, but it was a joy tempered with the knowledge of pain to come. All too soon they would be gone and so would she. Surely that made no sense? It felt as wrong as stopping her breath.
When Jamie came rushing in to tell her they were to go have luncheon at The House she hurried Beth along. She did not wish to waste a single moment she could spend with Benneit.
* * *
The contrast with their last visit to The House was so extreme, Jo ached with it. She and Benneit rode side by side, knees brushing occasionally, and Jamie turning back often to smile at them, as if he was the proud parent and they well-behaved children. Angus and Ethel were waiting for them with a light meal which they ate in the conservatory overlooking the sculpture garden. After the meal Jamie curled up on the sofa and was soon asleep and Benneit took her arm, leading her into the garden.
The light-hearted happiness began to fade the moment they were alone, replaced by tension and an edge of pain. In the bower Benneit let go of her arm and moved to inspect the clambering vines and Jo took the plunge, her half-formed thoughts tumbling out.
‘I was thinking,’ Jo said.
‘Thinking what?’ He turned to her and she saw a reflection of the same tension in the harsh lines of his face.
