Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 112133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
“Perhaps. But Gideon tried to kill you first. That’s not the case with this Faraday person.”
“He’s a murderer.”
“You don’t know that. From Cora’s account, he could have been an innocent victim, just like your friend Leo.”
“Determining his guilt or innocence isn’t my job.” He gathered white linen in his hands and jammed his head through the neck hole of the shirt. “I’m there to hit first, and Bellamy will ask questions later.”
“You can’t do that. You won’t do that.” She held his cuff steady as he wrestled his arm into a sleeve. “All those battles and brawls over the course of your life—they all had one thing in common. They were all fair fights, evenly matched, with opponents who had it coming to them. You’ve never been a bully, Rhys. That’s why I was so taken with you when I was a girl.”
He scoffed. “When you were a girl, I paid you no notice whatsoever.”
“Precisely.” She smoothed the back of his shirt, draping the crisp linen over his rippling muscles. “Do you know how remarkable that is? Any other youth in your situation would have been looking for a target like me. I was little and awkward and irritating. I would have been so easy to torment. The stable boys, they always teased me when my father wasn’t there. They were so used to being pushed about by their superiors, and they wanted someone to push about, too. It made them feel important, in control. But you”—she stroked his back—“of all young men, you had every reason to make my life miserable, and you never did. You respected my father. You were kind to the grooms. You cherished those horses. And you let me be.” Haltingly, she raised her hand to his hair. “Call it foolish if you will, but … I loved you for it.”
With a muttered oath, he braced his elbows on his knees and let his head fall to his hands.
“Don’t you believe me? I still love you, Rhys. More than ever.”
“I know. I know. And I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” After scrubbing his face with one hand, he propped his chin on his palm. “You tell me you love me. I know in my mind that should make things better.” He looked up at her. “Shouldn’t it? I mean, it’s the one thing I’ve waited my whole life to hear. And now that you’ve whispered those three little words, my anger should disappear, and the hurting should stop, and rainbows should burst through the clouds and a choir of angels should sing.” His eyes glimmered with emotion as his fingertip traced the curve of her jaw. “Against all odds, this beautiful, clever, strong woman loves me. My life should be put to rights.”
“But it isn’t,” she said.
Shaking his head, he withdrew his touch. “It isn’t. You keep saying you love me. And it cuts deeper every blessed time. It hurts, Merry. I can’t understand it, but it hurts like hell. Those words … they make me want to hit things, lash out in anger.” He swore again, balling his hands into fists. “Something’s wrong with me. Too many things are wrong with me.”
“And I’m partly to blame. You can’t forgive me.”
“It’s nothing to do with blame or forgiveness. It’s about brokenness. I can’t risk hurting you.”
With a gruff sigh, he rose to his feet. “I should go.”
From the bed, she reached out and caught his hand. “Stay awhile. It’s not dawn yet. If it’s hard for you, we don’t need to talk.”
“Yes, we do. Need to talk.” He turned and crouched at the side of the mattress. His eyes were thoughtful as they roamed the knot of their joined hands. “I’ve done some good here, I think. The cottage is your father’s to do with as he pleases. I’ll see that his pension is restored. The men will finish the inn, and you’ll have the posting horses, I promise. And I’ll pay for the damage to the tavern.”
“I’m not concerned about the inn, you fool man. I’m concerned about you.” Her voice cracked. “Rhys. Stop acting like this is the end. You can’t do this to me now. What happened to all that talk of destiny? I’m your fate, and you’re mine?”
After pressing a firm kiss to her knuckles, he rested his brow to their joined hands. “I swear to you. If any woman could make it right, make me whole—it would be you. But I’m just too broken, Merry. It’s too late for me. I wish to God that weren’t the case, but—”
“Don’t say it. Don’t.”
He wiped a tear from her cheek. “Some things just aren’t meant to be.”
Chapter Twenty-four
“I thought your home county was forbidding,” Bellamy said, squinting at the coach’s small window. “This makes it seem right cheery in comparison. Is it just coincidence, Ashworth, or does a depressing fog actually follow you around?” Rhys didn’t answer. Forget the fog. He felt like a damned thundercloud rumbled within his chest. His heart seethed with thick, churning, violent emotion. Hurt, confusion, anger. And though he’d only left her a half day ago, he missed Meredith so much he could scarcely breathe. But he had to put distance between them. He couldn’t let her get caught in the storm.