Page 69 of Never a Duchess
A hard lump formed in her throat.
She couldn’t swallow past the obstruction.
“The difference was apparent today,” he continued, unaware she was fighting her own inner battle. “When we embraced, I know ye felt my pain, yet I felt nothing in return. I cannae abide secrets, yet ye’re keeping something from me.”
She remained silent.
“I cannae give everything and receive nothing, Lillian.”
Dounreay had brought her to a crossroads. A dark fog obscured one path, making it impossible to see the future. The safe path had the same predictable view. A lonely, well-worn track she’d trodden for years.
This was her only chance to change course.
It was now or never. No other man held her so enthralled.
If she stepped into the darkness, she had to hope he would take her hand, help her if she stumbled.
The risk was great indeed.
Sitting up, she shuffled round to face him. “We all experience things differently. You’re right. You’re ignorant of the facts, so I cannot blame you for drawing that conclusion.”
A look flashed in his eyes, something akin to hope. “If ye want to continue our research, ye’ll need to stop pretending to trust me. Ye need to give me something, Lillian.”
She wanted to give him everything.
Could she take this giant leap of faith?
Before she changed her mind, she inhaled a fortifying breath. “Forgive my brevity, but I need to say this quickly.”
He blinked in obvious surprise.
“My mother didn’t have an illness or suffer an accident. She encouraged my brother Sebastian to learn to swim, practically forced him, and he drowned.” Nausea roiled in her stomach. “She blamed herself. One night, after kissing me on the forehead, she walked into the lake because she couldn’t bear to leave Sebastian alone.”
A heavy silence descended.
Yet she heard a distant voice warning of an approaching wave, one monstrous enough to swamp a young woman, to overturn her confident facade and drag her down into an abyss. Still, she held on to her resolve as if it were driftwood, the only means of reaching the shore.
“So I am sorry if I cannot bear to talk about it. I’m sorry if you think I’ll always be nothing more than an empty shell. But that’s not true. I feel something when I’m with you, Dounreay. I just need time to define what that is.”
She waited while he gathered his thoughts.
“If you still want me to leave, I will.”
The agony was like hoping for a reprieve on the march to the gallows.
Pressing her for information would be the worst thing he could do. She would tell him more at some point, but not now. Indeed, desperate to release the breath she’d been holding since knocking on his door, she was glad when he smiled and said, “What’s in the basket?”
“Props for our research.”
Curiosity burned in his beautiful brown eyes. “Props?”
“Yes, and your English drawing room offers the perfect setting.” Her heart lurched when she considered what she was about to do. “We have unfinished business. Important research to conduct. So, we will begin with an experiment of my choosing.”
One she had only thought of moments ago.
“Begin? There’s to be more than one experiment tonight?”
She arched a coy brow and nodded. “Afterwards, we will change into Scottish attire, and you can show me what it’s like to live north of the border. You promised I would dine with a Highlander tonight, and I’ve brought a dress fit for the occasion. Don’t break your vow.”
