Authors: Leigh Greenwood
“You would stop me if I attempted to take her by force?” Gavin asked, angered as always by Ian’s obvious infatuation with his wife.
“I would call out the whole Highland army if necessary.”
Involuntarily Gavin’s eyes turned to where the thirty-five-hundred men were standing by clan before the Prince and Lord George.
“We won’t be far away,” Ian told Sara. “If you should need any help—”
“She can call on her husband,” Gavin informed him angrily.
“If your husband should fail,” persevered Ian in the face of Gavin’s anger, “just send me word.”
“I will, but it won’t be necessary,” Sara assured him. “I can’t possibly repay your kindness during these two weeks. My maid tells me almost hourly what a wonderful man you are, and I never disagree with her. Thank you, and please express my appreciation to the Prince as well. In light of the enterprise he has undertaken, and the grave matters that hourly weigh him down, I feel honored he has deemed me worthy of so much of his time. I shall always remember his kindness.”
“As we shall both remember ye.” He bent down to give her a swift kiss on the cheek. “Remember, if ye need anything …”
“I will.” Ian took one last look at Sara then swiftly departed without a single glance at his friend.
It was a severe struggle, but Gavin succeeded in not saying a word.
Sara stared blindly out the window of the coach, hardly aware of the dreariness of the winter landscape. Her mind was much too taken up with being alone with Gavin—Betty was traveling in a second coach with their luggage—and wondering what would happen in the next few days, to notice whet her the sky was grey or care if the landscape was cold and lifeless.
Almost from the moment she had agreed to go with him to Estameer, a nucleus of excitement had begun to grow within her, and it had continued to expand until it had become an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of her stomach. Gavin’s presence always did that to her, and she wondered if she would ever grow accustomed to being in the same room with him. It clouded her judgement, and made it difficult for her to think. Even now, as she was trying to look ahead to the next few days, all she could think of was how unhappy he looked.
And that was such a shame. One of the things that had struck her most forcibly when she first saw him as a young man was his high spirits. No matter what punishment he had received, or how often it had been levied, he had always been cheerful, full of energy, and bursting with impatience to get on to something new.
There was the same energy about him now, only it was held under tight restraint. There was the same indifference to consequences, but it seemed to be almost a matter of angry defiance; and there was no joy, no exhilaration. Everything he did, he did because it was required of him; and everything seemed to bring him either pain or anger. Including marrying me, Sara thought to herself.
She sighed audibly. Could she change things for him? What did the future hold for her if she couldn’t? He was a strong, self-contained man, and she wasn’t sure he would let her inside him to heal the hurt. Even now, when he appeared to be asleep, his jaw was clenched and his lips pressed tightly together. She smiled. She remembered just such an expression once, after he had been punished. Then it had been a refusal to let her see that he cared in the least, but now it hid something more deep-seated, and Sara wondered if she would ever find out what it was.
She hadn’t risked much when she left London. There had been nothing there for her. She had no family, no home, and no one who loved her. Everything she wanted and hoped for was in this coach, was centered entirely on Gavin, but something had caused him to build a barrier between himself and the rest of the world. The Countess had been the only person Gavin allowed inside his defenses, but even her love hadn’t been able to free him. If he was ever again to experience the same joy in life he had exhibited as a boy, Sara must help him tear down that wall. And in order to do that, she had to find the doorway to his heart. She knew he would never accept help from an outsider.
She sighed again. What did she know about helping people understand themselves? She had been singularly unsuccessful at making friends with the girls at Miss Adelaide’s, and she knew virtually nothing about men. She could tell herself it was because her father had made his money in trade, but she knew much of the fault rested with her. If she was to reach Gavin, she would need intuitive skills she wasn’t certain she possessed, certainly skills she had never bothered to develop, and it wouldn’t do any good to ask for Betty’s help. Her henchwoman was bedazzled with Ian Fraser, and she lamented frequently upon the malignant twist of fortune that had caused Sara to be married to Gavin, when such an authentic gentleman as Ian Fraser was smitten with her. And it hadn’t done Sara any good to tell Betty that she didn’t want to be married to Ian, that she loved Gavin, and that it would all work out in the end. Betty would have it that, “Things is in a right fair mess this time, and it’ll take some doing to sort them out again.” Reluctantly, Sara agreed with her.
Gavin wasn’t the least bit sleepy, but he didn’t open his eyes. Sara would have expected him to carry on some kind of conversation, and until he got things sorted out in his head, he wasn’t sure he could.
He was still stunned that he had begged Sara to leave the Prince and come with him, but what he understood even less was the feeling that he was glad he had done it. He could only interpret that to mean he felt drawn to her, but that went against every plan he had made, every vow he had taken during the last ten years.
All except your wedding vows,
he reminded himself.
He had felt guilty about those vows from the first, even t hough he had been too angry at the time to be aware of it. Guilt had prompted him to kiss Sara too hard, to drink too much, and to stay away from her for nearly a fortnight. Guilt had caused him to exert more control over his temper than ever before, in order to convince Sara to return to Estameer with him. Now he was feeling still more guilt, because he hadn’t arranged for her to have the income from her own inheritance, hadn’t sent her back to London, and hadn’t told her to go on with her life without him. What did he have to offer her, but the residue of years of hate and the legacy of wasted opportunity?
Hell, he wasn’t sure what he wanted to do, but something inside him was reaching out to that woman, and it grew stronger every day. And it wasn’t her physical attraction, though the effect of that had been, and still was, quite strong enough. He hadn’t realized until days later that he hadn’t gone from Sara to Clarice because
he didn’t want Clarice anymore!
The full significance of that hadn’t hit him, until Colleen sent him a message at Estameer asking him to come see her.
He didn’t want her either.
He didn’t want anyone but Sara. All during the last month he had been haunted by the vision of Sara, waiting for him in bed, as he lurched through the door too drunk to know what havoc he was about to create.
He thought longingly of her slim body and pure white skin. He could still feel the firmness of her breasts, smell the warmth of her skin, taste the sweetness of her lips, and it made his body ache with desire. Knowing that she was within reach this very minute was agony, but he also knew she was afraid of him. She had lowered her eyes as she boarded the coach, sensing all of a sudden that she was alone with him, but not before he had seen the same fear in her eyes that he had seen that night, the same fear which had haunted him ever since. He could take her if he wanted, he had done it once before, but if she was ever to come to him willingly—and he realized quite suddenly that he very much wanted her to come to him willingly—he Was going to have to begin all over again. He didn’t know if he could restrain himself, he wasn’t sure he knew how, but he knew he must.
He asked himself again what he wanted from a woman and he answered, “Nothing,” but the contradiction to his answer was sitting across from him.
Gavin had hired the best bedroom in the inn, and they had dined in their own private parlor, but Sara had no thoughts to spare for her improved circumstances as her hands, hidden in her lap under the table, nervously clenched and unclenched. She had made up her mind to take Letty Brown’s advice, but she was unaccountably anxious. She had been trying unsuccessfully for the last hour to summon the words, but it was getting late, and if she wanted an answer before Betty came to put her to bed, she couldn’t wait any longer. She took a deep breath, and plunged in.
“I’ve been thinking about our marriage.” A wary look came into Gavin’s eye, but he didn’t flinch. “We were married without knowing any thing about each other. But possibly of still more importance, neither of us had any idea what the other wanted in a spouse.”
“Very few people get married knowing any more than we did.”
Sara sat as immobile as granite. “I think we should know a lot more. I want you to tell me quite honestly what you really want in a wife.”
“What?” Gavin exclaimed, nearly choking on his brandy.
“And not just your wife,” Sara added, while she had the courage. “What do you want from marriage itself?”
“You can’t be serious.”
“But I am.”.
Gavin looked quite uncomfortable. “Suppose you can’t fill any of those needs?”
Sara felt like the bottom of the earth had dropped out from under her, and she took a moment to recover. “If I know what you want and still fail, at least I will have had a chance to succeed.”
Gavin wanted to answer her, but he wasn’t sure it was wise, for either of them. Suppose what he wanted was too unreasonable, even impossible. Was it fair to condemn Sara to defeat before she even started? And what of himself? Suppose he allowed himself to actually say it, to commit himself out loud to what he hoped to find in a wife. Could he accept failure after that? It was a dangerous gamble, one he might be paying for the rest of his life, but there was something about Sara’s unwavering gaze that encouraged him to take the risk. But Gavin realized in that moment that he wasn’t sure what he wanted. How could he tell Sara, if he didn’t know himself?
“You deserve a straight answer, but I don’t know that I can give you one. I’ve let myself be caught up in bitterness and anger for so long, it doesn’t matter why, that I can’t remember what I used to want. It’s the reason I came to Scotland when mother died.” Sara’s expression grew perplexed. “But you didn’t mean this, did you?” She shook her head. He paused while he took a swallow of brandy. Why was it so difficult to say the things that were most important to you?
“I want someone to love me as unconditionally as my mother loved my father,” he said without looking up. “I don’t say that I deserve it, or that I could return such a love in full measure, but I want it nevertheless. I want a wife who is willing to fill her day with toil because she knows it will please me. I want a wife who will not shrink from the marriage bed, one who can enjoy my body as much as I hope to enjoy hers. But most of all I want a friend, someone who can see all my faults and still want to share her life with me. It’s hard to be alone all the time,” Gavin raised his eyes until he met Sara’s gaze, “but I guess you understand that better than I do.”
Sara’s voice wouldn’t respond, and she was forced to nod.
Gavin drained his glass and poured out some more. “Well, you wanted to know.”
“I’m glad you told me,” Sara replied, her voice still feeling thick. “I wish I’d known before.”
“Why?” demanded Gavin, irrationally angry at the compassion in her voice. “Would it have made my howling bad manners any more acceptable? Would it have made my drunken advances any more tolerable? Would it have made my brutal rejection any more palatable?”
“No, but I would have understood them better.”
“What difference does that make?” he asked, still unplacated.
“I’m not perfectly sure, but I
think
it means that whenever you do something that hurts me very much, it’s not because you dislike me, but rather because something is hurting you even more.”
Gavin’s anger and irritation evaporated. Even now, after all that had happened, she was still looking for the best in him. It made him feel more of a heel than ever.
“Now tell me what you want,” he said, forcing himself to smile, though he didn’t feel like it. “I should not be the only one to have his wishes considered.”
“I don’t think you will like it,” Sara said, “but I suppose it’s best that you know.” She took only a minute to gather her thoughts before she looked up and met his gaze. “I want some control over my life. Ever since I can remember, people have been making decisions for me without asking me what I wanted. I want to be asked, and I want to be listened to. I want to belong somewhere that is mine. I don’t want to live in your house or your father’s house. I want to feel like I live in
my
house, even if I don’t actually own it. And I want control of my money. I don’t see why the income from my inheritance should go to you, just because you’re my husband. There’s no need for me to have to ask you for everything I want, and there’s no reason to think I don’t know how to spend money, or save it, just because I’m not a man.”
Gavin made no comment.
“The rest of what I want is not so different from you. I, too, long for a friend. I miss my father and the fun we had talking about everyday things that happened, making plans for special times, or the time we spent together without talking. I feel like I spent all those years at Miss Adelaide’s alone.