Page 107 of Too Scot to Handle
Anwen glowered up at her beloved. “Why does she get away without even making an apology to the boys? Her actions could have seen you hanged, and if she’d been anybody but an earl’s daughter, she’d be in jail by tomorrow.”
Anwen could feel Colin’s heartbeat beneath her cheek, could feel the weariness in him.
“I agree, it doesn’t sit well to simply banish her to Italy. She knows these boys, knows their stories, and what they’ve faced for want of coin. Her defense, if you can call it that, is that she took only the cash and left them the jewels.”
“That is no defense at all,” Anwen retorted, leaving Colin’s embrace just long enough to lock the door. “She didn’t steal the jewels because trying to open the strongbox meant a greater risk of being caught. The boys had access to the orphanage’s funds month after month and never took a penny.”
The tenacity of Anwen’s rage surprised her. Colin was safe, the money was found, the boys were safe, but still, the Montague siblings would make no reparation for the damage they’d caused, would make no atonement.
“You’re sure the boys told you to let her go?” Anwen asked, taking Colin by the hand.
“I’m sure. I asked them to think about what should happen when we found the money. They assumed, as I had, that Win had stolen the money rather than Lady Rosalyn, and they were willing to give him a chance to pull a bunk, as they’d put it. Win was to be given a choice to leave the country and save us all from scandal or face prosecution.”
Anwen led Colin to the desk, scooted back amid the piles of bills and coin, and tugged him closer by his waistband.
“So the children simply added clemency for Lady Rosalyn to their offer. Had MacDeever been accused of taking the money, or had he taken it in fact, nobody would have offered him clemency. That is a scandal to me, Colin. An earl’s children commit vile wrongs and they go to Italy. That’s not justice.”
He stepped closer, between her knees. “You are very angry. Now you understand why after a siege, after being fired upon for days, digging all night, and fighting through terrible odds, an army can lose its self-control.”
He kissed her and wrapped his arms about her, which did help—some.
“Why didn’t you flee, Colin? I wanted you to flee to safety. I would have gone with you.” Saying the words let Anwen acknowledge the truth. Much of what she felt wasn’t rage so much as lingering terror.
What if Colin hadn’t been brilliant enough to find the money?
What if Montague had seen the orphanage condemned?
What if Colin had been sentenced to hang?
Maybe this was how Anwen’s family had felt when she’d been so ill. They’d been helpless, exhausted, enraged, and determined to fight on even after the foe had been bested.
That thought bore pondering—later—because it had the illuminating feel of a revelation.
Colin stroked her hair as a great sigh went out of her. “I thought about running,” he said. “Live to fight another day, aye? I thought about it last night, and again this morning when all seemed lost and nothing to be gained by standing my ground.”
“You didn’t run, you didn’t give up, even when you should have,” Anwen said on a shudder. “Why not?”
She loved holding him, loved him.
“I love you, Anwen Windham. You are my heart. I could not have fled if it meant leaving you at risk of harm. A few months ago, even weeks ago, I’d have been on a ship, cutting my losses and thanking the Almighty that I’d escaped with life, liberty, and good health. Live and let live, don’t dwell on the past.”
“The past has lessons for us,” Anwen said. “Up to a point. I’m about to cry.”
Colin stayed right where he was and kept stroking her hair. “I liked the army because somebody was always giving me orders. Do this, don’t do that. March here, camp there. Fix this, replace that. I’d go off on larks and dodge the truly stupid orders, but for the most part, life was simple.”
“As long as you stayed alive.”
He kissed her again, her right eyelid, then her left. “Maybe that’s how badly I didn’t want to face making my own choices. I was content to go through life tidying up after others, mending and repairing anything within reach just to feel useful. I’d rather take a bullet than make a wrong choice, but I was mistaken. Choosing the way forward won’t be difficult anymore.”
“If you choose to risk hanging again, I will make life very difficult for you, Colin MacHugh.”
He rubbed Anwen’s back, which only made the lump in her throat hurt worse. “Anwen, if I had to choose again, I’d make the same decisions. I was tempted to leave, but then I asked myself: What must I do to protect my Anwen and her respect for me? Then the way became clear. That question will always make the way clear.”
Colin was saying he was at peace with how the situation had turned out, pleased even.
“Hold me, Colin.”
“Aye, always.”
