Page 2 of Never Leave Me
“I understand well enough. You’d rather sit back and die than fight to stay alive.”
“I have tried to stay alive.”
“Well, try harder!” He’d never shouted at her before, but his tone was decidedly loud. For the passing of several heartbeats, she could only stare at the frustration and helplessness etched into the lines of his face.
He’d already lost Dad and Marian, had watched them lie in comas and die before his eyes. Now she was all he had left.
Yes, he had a few distant cousins. But he rarely spoke to them. Yes, he had colleagues and childhood friends. But they were nothing more than acquaintances now—no one he was particularly close to. In fact, Ellen guessed he was closer to his butler, Drake, than anyone else.
She grazed the pearl necklace she wore most of the time, the one Marian had given her when she’d lain dying, the same one Mom had given Marian upon her deathbed. Stroking the glossy beads made her feel connected to Marian in a way she couldn’t explain. Even so, Marian’s death had left an empty place, one she hadn’t been able to fill even though she’d tried hard over the past year by keeping busy with her new charity, Serenity House.
“I regret having to leave you behind.” She reached for Harrison’s hand again, and heat pricked the back of her eyes.
He yanked away at the same time he hit the power switch on his wheelchair. His chair hummed as it rolled backward. “If you regret it, then you’ll hang on and keep fighting.”
“I’m ready to die, Harrison.”
His face blanched, and his lips thinned.
She despised that she had to state her feelings so starkly. But he was giving her no other choice.
“I won’t let you die!” His whisper was harsh. Then he jerked his wheelchair around and whirred away.
She peered after him, wishing he wouldn’t leave but knowing she had to let him go so he could finally accept what he couldn’t change no matter how hard he tried, no matter how much of his vast fortune he spent, no matter the best treatments he could find.
Harrison rolled down the marble pathway toward the side entrance, fuming and embarrassed at the same time. This was one of those times when he wished he’d been able to stomp off for effect, slapping his feet with each heavy stride, looking strong and purposeful. Instead, he bounced along at his wheelchair’s top speed—five miles per hour.
If he glanced back, he’d find Ellen’s bright blue eyes upon him, full of pity.
His chest tightened. He didn’t want her pity. He wanted her admiration. Wanted her to see him as capable, not lost and alone in the world once she died.
Of course, hewouldbe dreadfully lost and alone without her—more so than she’d ever be able to understand and in a way he mustn’t reveal to her.
To be fair, Ellen never paid attention to his disability. At times, he even wondered if she realized he was in a wheelchair and couldn’t walk. She had always been the one person who made him feel whole and strong.
But at this moment as he directed his wheelchair up the ramp, the pity in her eyes trailed him, and he loathed himself, loathed his wheelchair, and loathed his weakness.
“Lord Burlington.” Drake opened the side door and held it wide as Harrison steered into the passageway that led to the kitchen. His butler bowed his graying head in deference, his stooped shoulders and thin frame belying his strength and stamina.
Drake had been his personal attendant for ages and knew Harrisonbetter than anyone. Even now, the older man shifted his sights toward Ellen, anticipating Harrison’s request. “Have no fear, my lord. I’ll carry her back inside when she’s ready.”
“Many thanks.” Harrison wheeled to the lift, pressed the arrow that would take him up to the ground floor, then expelled a weary breath.
“You should tell her, eh?” Drake’s statement contained a gentle rebuke.
Harrison stared directly ahead at the lift doors. He considered pretending he didn’t know what Drake was referring to. But the older man would see past his playacting. Nevertheless, he couldn’t make himself acknowledge the bold truth. “I have nothing to tell her, Drake.”
Nothing except that he desperately loved her—and not merely as a friend the way she thought he did. No, he loved her fully and completely as a man loves a woman. He had for years. He’d never spoken of his love to anyone—not even to Drake, but he wasn’t surprised his attendant had sorted it out.
Behind him, Drake refrained from saying anything more, stepped outside and closed the door, leaving him alone. Harrison swallowed hard, but the lump in his throat remained. Only when he was safely ensconced in the privacy of the lift did he bury his face into his hands. He wanted to give way to the need to weep, except he wasn’t a man who easily allowed himself to express emotions, even privately. His display of frustration in the garden with Ellen was more than enough. And now he regretted even that.
He was, after all, a scientist, a logical, rational thinker. He examined everything from each angle, analyzed the data, and drew solid empirical conclusions. He didn’t let feelings cloud his judgment.
As the lift dinged and came to a halt, Harrison schooled himself into his usual composed demeanor. The doors opened to thefront hall, which was a room unto itself. The floor was inlaid with white marble and the walls lined with dark oak paneling carved with exquisite detail. Two dozen tall columns supported a center dome decorated with colorful stained-glass circles. A massive fireplace graced one wall, surrounded by the same white marble as the floors.
Marian had informed him the room in the Middle Ages had been a grand hall with trestle tables against the walls and a larger fireplace. She’d also maintained that the closet at the far end had housed an office used by the master.
Harrison had been fascinated by her detailed description of the original manor and had sketched out the floor plan the way she described it. He’d even excavated a vault underneath the hall closet. How could she have known it was there if she hadn’t crossed over to the past and witnessed it firsthand?
