Page 68 of An English Rose for the Highlander
Rose’s heart broke just that little bit further, and she sagged into herself, letting Dominik twirl her through a spin before theyreturned to the spot where they had started. His stare fell to her husband’s chest, and she watched it rise and fall steadily.
I cannot let the pain get the best of me. I must put on a brave face.
Looking up into his face with a forced smile, Rose followed along through their next revolution around the room. Dominik truly was wonderful at the waltz, and for never seeing it before, he took to the steps like a fish to water.
“You are indeed a fine dancer, my laird. You may not believe me, but I assure you that you would find nothing but honesty on my face.”
Dominik stopped, making Rose lurch on her feet as she caught her balance. It occurred to her too late that he had taken her words as a demand for him to look at her. She did wish for Dominik to look at her, but not like this.
A glare met her, born from fury and wrath, and Rose reeled backward, her throat constricting as she blinked the renewed tears away. With her heart hammering against her chest, Rose stumbled over something to ease Dominik’s anger.
“I apologize, my laird. If I have said something, I didn’t?—”
“Can ye truly be that overjoyed to leave? So verra excited that ye take to the bloody dance floor and twirl about without a care?”
Isthatwhat he thinks? Oh, God…
“No, no. I assure you that I am only trying to find a bit of happiness in the sadness of leaving. I am…Dominik, I am so verygratefulto have this last moment with you. I will cherish it?—”
“And did ye pack yer things then?” His words were bitten out and laced with venom. Rose’s chin quivered. She could not cry. She could not fall apart in front of him like that. “I expect that ye’ll be leaving the moment this is all over, aye?”
“I…I am as prepared to leave for England as I can be.” A roundabout answer to a question that gutted her. “My things are in a carriage, I believe.”
For as momentary as her enjoyment had been, her grief now was several times as much. The way Dominik looked at her made Rose wish she could crawl into a hole and never come out to see the light of day.Thisexpression would be the one that remained in her mind’s eye, the one that haunted her as she tried to carry out her life in London.
Rose had known it would be exceedingly difficult to pretend like the man she loved wasn’t just a coach ride away, that the clan she had begun to see as her own was not right here waiting for her, needing her aid. Still now, the reality of the weight she would carry with her each day was made all the more monumental.
Agony. That was what awaited her in England, and there was nothing that she could do about it.
But she would not show that to Dominik. She would not have him see her broken and mournful. She would honor the time they had had together. She would be a lady as she always was, and she would make it known to him, if nothing else, that she was thankful for the time they had, though it was brief.
“I wanted to thank you as well…before I left. You have been a gracious host and honorable Laird since the moment of my arrival. I will remember the time I had here fondly. I?—”
“That is enough, me Lady. I will not hear more. I am quite done with this evening and everything that it might entail.”
Rose’s mouth dropped open, pain lacing through her form as if she’d been struck, but she could not place where. Only that were someone to ask, she would tell them that she could not breathe, that it ached to blink, that nausea and tightness of throat plagued her, and that all she wished to do was sob.
“Good evening, and goodbye…Rose.”
She didn’t have the time to say anything back. The Laird spun on his heel and fled from the room with speed befitting a wild animal. He was gone, and that would be the last she saw of him.
The warmth of Dominik’s touch still lingered on her shoulder and back where they had been as they danced. And with each passing second, it vanished more and more, leaving coldness in its wake.
33
Dominik was not sure what time it was. It had been some time since he had left the Great Hall. He could not remember how long he had drunk himself into a stupor in his chambers. Still, it was long enough that Dominik’s pain had softened some, his fury tempered by the whisky that ran through his veins nearly as strong as his own blood.
The trouble with the Laird of all people looking to drown his frustrations in a bit of the drink was twofold, however. One, he could not be useless to his people. Should there be an emergency, it would fall on Dominik to handle it. And he could only keep using his injury as an excuse for “time alone” for so long.
Two, getting influenced by the drink enough to forget that he was so upset, took an amount of alcohol that others would gawk at. He was not one to fall victim to the drink, and while the edge was softened, because he could not render himself an imbecile, the gnawing pain still remained.
Knock, knock, knock.
Without his permission, Dominik’s heart leaped into his chest. An excitement stirred, and a part of him—no matter how hard he forgot to drown it with the drink—rose to the surface, hoping that the person on the other side of the door was indeedRose.
“Aye!” he called out, crossing the floor with a determination that surprised even himself.
It is ridiculous that ye get this worked up over a lass.
