Page 104 of To Wed an Heiress
Mercy spent time in the Laird’s Room and, strangely enough, she didn’t keep him from his work. She didn’t touch things. She didn’t barrage him with questions, but the ones she asked were insightful. She sat on the work stool, studying his drawings, interrupting her examination from time to time to send him a smile.
Last night she’d surprised him by standing on tiptoe outside the kitchen, after their evening meal shared with Irene, Ruthie, and Connor and kissed him lightly.
“There,” she said. “I don’t have to be honorable.”
He watched her leave, wondering if she knew how much he wanted to follow her. If he had his way he’d dismiss everyone from Duddingston and keep her a beloved prisoner in his room. They wouldn’t budge from his tower bedroom but for food.
Now he stood where he was long enough to be conscious of his immobility.
She couldn’t leave, but what other alternative was there? He couldn’t keep her here.
Irene stood in the doorway, her expression one he rarely saw. He wanted to tell her that she shouldn’t pity him.
Instead, he headed for the Laird’s Room.
Mercy sat in the bedroom that had been hers for the past week. The same room that still bore so many memories of Lennox.
What will you do? he’d asked.
What could she do but return to her prison and pretend to be a penitent escapee? She wouldn’t marry Gregory and there was a chance she wouldn’t marry anyone at all. Perhaps she’d become a little old lady living alone in the enormous gray house on the corner, becoming a legend or a source of speculation.
No, she never married, but I heard there was a lover in her past.
There’s some tragedy there, I think. She never got over his loss.
They say she roams from room to room in that great house.
There was nothing she could do. She couldn’t stay here. Even in the Highlands there was a certain type of behavior expected of people. For the past week she had defiantly—and gleefully—ignored all the rules of society.
She couldn’t expect Lennox to give her safe harbor forever.
If she thought he would agree she’d ask him to marry her again, but he didn’t want an American heiress. He didn’t want her.
Time had flown by and now it was nearly four. Her father would be here shortly, and she was ready. Her trunk had been packed as well as the valises. Connor had already taken them and placed them outside Duddingston’s iron door.
All that was left now was to descend the stairs, walk through the castle, and leave. How strange that it sounded so easily done, but it would be one of the most difficult tasks she would ever perform.
The truth was that she didn’t want to go. She didn’t want to go back to America, to a life she’d escaped. She didn’t want to leave Lennox.
She’d always been loved; she couldn’t fault her parents for that. Yet they’d trapped her in a web because of that love. She wouldn’t be guilty of the same behavior. She wouldn’t go to Lennox and tell him how she felt and ensnare him.
No, loving Lennox was her secret and she’d keep it.
She was probably going to anger him, but she wasn’t going to take the valise with the money back to America. She had tucked it in the bottom of the armoire and left a note for Irene. In addition to thanking her for her friendship, the cooking lessons, as well as her kindness, she’d told the other woman about the money. She would pay her father back, making the greenbacks in the valise her gift to Lennox.
At least she would ease his life a little. He could have the chapel roof fixed or buy material for his airships.
She felt as if there was a hole where her chest should be. It seemed to be growing the closer she got to four o’clock. Hearts didn’t break. Lives didn’t really shatter. She would survive this, although she wasn’t certain she wanted to. Part of her would always remain in Scotland.
Perhaps long after she was gone from life people would see her ghost walking in the glen or crossing the causeway and entering Duddingston Castle. Would she be a spirit haunting the castle itself? She could imagine the tales told about the forlorn woman who wandered through the kitchen and lingered in the Clan Hall.
She’s looking for the earl, they might say. She loved him, but she had to leave him forever.
At ten until four there was a knock on the door. She’d expected it. Ruthie was always conscientious that way.
Leaving Connor would be as difficult for Ruthie as leaving Lennox would be for her. Perhaps they could commiserate with each other on the voyage back to New York. During the trip she would confide her plans about the future to Ruthie. She hoped Ruthie would come to live with her. She didn’t want to lose the only friend she’d ever had.
When Ruthie entered the room, Mercy knew something was different immediately. It took her a moment and then she began to smile.
