Page 89 of Waiting for a Scot Like You
“A sound plan,” he said at last.
Curtis exhaled audibly, and tension eased from Rowe’s posture.
“You know I only want your happiness,” Duncan said. Because it was true. He would give any member of the Union whatever he could to ensure their hearts’ desires.
Though he was celebrated as an orator in court, Curtis seemed only capable of nodding.
“As we want yours,” Rowe said, his voice thick. “Which brings us to the fact that you’re here, in the middle of the night, looking miserable—and the dowager countess is noticeably absent.”
Duncan glanced away, down the length of black ribbon that was the road. “We had to walk away from each other.”
It was strange how he could condense boundless misery into a single sentence. Stranger still that it could bring back all the pain. His throat worked as he swallowed around the knot that had formed there.
“Damn.” Rowe handed the reins to Curtis and climbed down. He laid a hand on Duncan’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry. She’d no right to toy with your heart like that.”
“She did nothing of the sort,” Duncan said firmly. “I could not give her what she wanted, and what I needed was impossible for her.”
Curtis growled, “Falling in love is a son of a bitch.”
“I don’t—” But the rest of Duncan’s words died as he realized the truth.
He didn’t merelycare forBeatrice. Helovedher. Every moment with her was joy, and every moment without her was misery. He became the man he wanted to be when they were together, a man who could live with spontaneity and whimsy and joy. The thought of spending the rest of his life without her in it filled him with pain so acute he could scarcely breathe. But the idea of being with her for the remainder of his days saturated him with the sort of happiness he never believed he could possess.
The knowledge that he loved her was itself an alchemy of elation and dismay.
Because she was worth that, all the pain and uncertainty that came with love. With her indomitable spirit and her warm heart, she was worth it. Yet—
“I don’t know if she loves me back,” he choked out.
“Did you ask her?” Rowe said pointedly.
Duncan opened and closed his mouth, as he realized he never admitted the depths of his feelings, which meant he never truly gave her a chance to tell him whatshefelt. But what did it matter? “Even so, she won’t marry me.”
Rowe and Curtis exchanged a look. “There are other ways to be in love that don’t include marriage,” Rowe said.
“So she suggested,” Duncan said grimly. “She wanted us to be together, but not as husband and wife. But that’s not how it is in my family. We commit to each other for life.”
“Firstly,” Curtis said, “marriage doesn’t ensure a lifelong commitment. How many people leave their spouses? Men, especially, have a tendency to be the ones who roam or outright desert their wives.”
Duncan absorbed this. “Suppose that’s true. And secondly?”
“Secondly,” Curtis went on, “love stays, no matter what the church or the law insists is required.”
“Love stays,” Rowe seconded, walking back to Curtis and taking his hand.
Duncan stared at their intertwined fingers. His friends touched each other with absolute certainty,as though they were meant to be exactly where they were—together. In the face of a society that would not condone their union, they held fast to one another, unwavering in their dedication and devotion.
Still... “I don’t know,” he muttered. “Where’s the guarantee? Where’s the security?”
“It’s a leap of faith,” Rowe added, gazing at Curtis. “Nothing in this life comes with a promise. You have to trust them on the basis of nothing but how you feel about each other. A rule will never give you that trust because it doesn’t come fromwithin.”
Duncan brooded over what his friends said. “How can it be so simple, and so complex, as trust? How do I walk away from generations of tradition and make my own path? It would be a hard thing to do.”
“None of us doubt your courage in combat,” Rowe said softly. “There are other kinds of courage.”
“I know what I want, and...” Frustrated, he struggled to speak, yet if anything, being with Beatrice meant that opening himself up to others led to the greatest rewards.
He went on, his voice a rasp. “I’m afraid. More afraid than I’d ever been on any battlefield, because the risk—my heart—seems even more meaningful than my life.”
