Page 112 of To Wed an Heiress
“Oh, I’m so glad, Miss Mercy. She was up to high doh about leaving Connor.”
Mercy interpreted that to mean that Ruthie had been upset.
When Lily left, she returned to the chair, the dinner tray having no interest for her. She wished for darkness, but the Highland sky would still be light a few hours from now.
Tears wouldn’t come; they were as far away as New York.
All she felt was empty.
Somehow, she was supposed to go on with her life. How?
The day in the forest, love had shone in Lennox’s eyes, for all that he would probably deny it. He wouldn’t speak of what he felt because of pride. Or honor. Or whatever emotion he used to cloak it. He wasn’t wealthy and for that one lack he doomed them both to heartache.
She’d fallen in love, but love hadn’t been enough. How was that anything but a tragedy?
Standing, she walked to the window, staring out at the sight of Ben Uaine in the distance. The mountain was a sentinel on the landscape. It had been there for eons and would be there long after she left.
The beauty of Scotland had crept up on her, taking her unawares. Ben Uaine itself, the piney woods, the trails through the glen, the magnificent storms, and the wind that blew the scent of the loch to her—all these things would feature in her memories.
As would Duddingston Castle, a monument to Scotland’s past and the fierceness of the people who’d built the fortress. And it’s owner, Lennox Caitheart, Earl of Morton.
She welcomed the pain because at least it proved she could still feel something. Lennox was only a few miles away. How was she supposed to endure it with an ocean between them?
She’d once thought that she should tell Ruthie that there was no sense involving herself in a romance with no future. How foolish that was. She could no more have stopped Ruthie from falling in love than she could alter her own emotions.
Love shouldn’t hurt. It shouldn’t be almost physically painful. It shouldn’t alter your thoughts, your mood, and your outlook. She couldn’t imagine a future where she smiled or laughed or anticipated the start of another day.
The knock on the door was an intrusion, but she had no choice but to answer it.
Aunt Elizabeth stood there. “May I come in?” she asked.
“Of course,” Mercy said, stepping aside.
Her relationship with both her grandmother and her aunt had undergone a change since she’d arrived in Scotland. Ailsa obviously didn’t approve of her. As far as Elizabeth, she wasn’t sure what her aunt thought.
She wasn’t in the mood to hear criticism right now. Yes, she’d acted shockingly. Yes, she’d been the object of scandal. Yes, she’d shamed the family. The truth, however, was even more appalling: she’d do everything again if given the opportunity. She’d stay with Lennox. She’d take him as her lover. She’d be with him at every possible opportunity.
If pressed, she’d tell Elizabeth that.
She motioned to the chair and sat on the edge of the bed, folding her arms in front of her.
“How are you?” Elizabeth asked.
She hadn’t expected the question or the genuine concern in Elizabeth’s expression.
“I should probably say that I’m fine, but I’m not. I’m miserable.”
“Of course you are.”
That, too, was a surprise.
“Must you leave?” Elizabeth asked. “Is there no way you could stay? You love him. That’s obvious to anyone who spares a moment to look.”
“Yes,” Mercy said. “I love him.”
He doesn’t love me, however. Or he’s never said. She didn’t want to talk about love right now. She didn’t think she could bear it.
“Then don’t leave,” Elizabeth said. “Defy your father. Defy the world. Stay with him.”
