Page 22 of To Bed the Bride
When he didn’t say anything further, she finished her tea, placed her cup next to his, and sat back.
She would not ask him what he meant. That’s exactly what he wanted her to do. Instead, she would simply wait him out. She wasn’t at all patient, but she was sometimes stubborn.
“I met an Abyssinian,” he said. “An interesting man, someone who offered me water when I was thirsty. He was just like all the men who had fought us earlier. Part of me wanted to judge him like his countrymen, but he hadn’t tried to kill me. I saw him as a human being just like me, separate and apart from his nationality. I thanked him for the water and when I would have paid him for it, he shook his head and walked away.”
“So I should accept Bruce because he isn’t like that rabid dog, is that it?”
“It seems foolish to judge him based on the behavior of a totally different animal. Wouldn’t you agree?”
“Why do you care?” she asked. “Why does it matter to you what I think?”
“The easy answer is because you’re afraid. I know the emotion well and I would spare you that.”
“And the hard answer?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea why, other than that you’re a fascinating woman.”
No one had ever called her fascinating. They didn’t refer to her as a woman often, either. She’d felt like a girl for most of her life, unformed, unfinished, and unprepared.
“One with a voice like a mother’s lullaby.”
He smiled at her and the expression had a glint of mischief to it. “A silly thing to say, wasn’t it? However, I wanted to try to describe your voice and that’s the first thing I thought of. It makes you think of family and home and good things.”
She felt her face warm. No one had ever said anything like that to her, either.
They exchanged a long look. She didn’t know what he saw when he viewed her. Was it a foolish woman, held motionless in time because of an event decades old?
“Is there something inherently wrong with being afraid?” she asked. “Must you banish fear or find some way around it all the time? It seems to me that fear is good in some instances. It keeps you safe. It gives you a warning. It urges you to be wary of your surroundings.”
“Fear is not simply a sign of weakness to me. It’s an indication that I believe I’m not strong enough for what I must face. Or that I’ve already lost the battle. Perhaps fear has its place, but it doesn’t serve you well when you nourish it for a long time. Or when you hold it close and reinforce it with memory and a reluctance to challenge it. I suspect that you’ve held on to your fear of dogs to the point that it’s almost fossilized. I also think that, given the chance, you wouldn’t continue to feel that way. Most of us get in the habit of thinking or acting in a certain way because it’s simpler than changing.”
She’d never been spoken to in such a way. Not even by her aunt when Deborah was extremely annoyed. Eleanor couldn’t decide whether she was hurt or angry or strangely admiring of Logan McKnight’s courage for speaking honestly. She had a feeling that he said what he thought to anyone.
She’d never done that. In fact, there were whole days that went by when she realized she hadn’t been truly honest to anyone. If she awakened with a headache, she nevertheless told everyone at breakfast that she was feeling fine. If she thought the blood sausage was ghastly, she ate it nonetheless. If her aunt and cousin gushed over a new pattern the seamstress brought and Eleanor thought the dress was a horror, she never said anything. Everything about her life was one white lie after another.
The only time she felt like she was truly herself was here in Scotland.
“You don’t know me, Mr. McKnight. You have no idea who I am. You have simply taken a situation and blown it up in your mind to be whatever you wanted it to be. That’s hardly fair. Nor is it correct.”
“Then you’re not afraid of dogs, is that it?”
He was making her choices easy for her. She was trending toward anger, not hurt. Any admiration she might have felt for him minutes earlier was rapidly dissipating.
“It doesn’t matter what I am or what I feel. You had no business simply dropping a puppy off at my house.”
“You’re right,” he said. “I didn’t. In fact, I took a very great chance that you weren’t the kind of person who would cause him any hurt.”
Now she was truly annoyed. “Of course I wouldn’t.”
“Even though you think dogs are the devil’s companions?”
“I don’t think any such thing. Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Still, I’m pleased to discover that you seem to be a kind person.”
“Of course I am.”
“There is noof courseabout it, Miss Craig. The world is filled with people who are not nice or kind. I’m gratified that you aren’t one of those, but then, I couldn’t imagine you being anything but gentle, sweet, and caring.”
