Page 13 of Beware A Wallflower's Wrath
She pulled back, ending their kiss but longing for his touch. This man needed to leave. “Oh, Rabbie. I dinna ken?—”
“If you’re sending me away, please, just one more kiss. A kiss to last me a lifetime.”
She reached up and pushed a rogue strand of hair from his forehead. “That’s a verra long time.”
Annis cupped his face with both hands, reached up on her toes, and kissed him softly. Her fingers trailed down his jaw as she stepped away. “I wish our time together had turned out differently. But we’ve chosen other paths, altered the life which might have been. I have a business here, and ye’re a barrister, working in London.”
He nodded, his hands still lightly holding her hips. “I took a month off. Anthony is staying with his grandfather after this term, so I thought I’d earned a holiday.”
“Anthony?”
“My son.”
Her heart fell. Annis stepped away, watching Rabbie’s arms fall to his sides.
“He’s a fine boy, although he’s not mi?—”
She knew the fury brewing in her belly was unreasonable, but the thought of raising Fin while he nurtured another son was too much. A dog howled outside, reminding Annis that her son and Mac would be home soon. Turning her back on him, she cringed at the ice in her voice.
“Ye must go. I have much to do before I leave. Thank ye for coming, but I canna see ye again.” Annis opened the door, her back against the wall as she waited for him to take the stairs to the shop, her gaze glued to the floor.
“May I write?”
She closed her eyes to the pleading tone that at one time had been impossible to deny. “Nay, I dinna think it would be a good idea.”
“Annis,” he whispered, his hand reaching out, a knuckle trailing down her cheek to wipe away a tear she hadn’t realized was there. “Please, I want to see you again. I’m a better man than the one you knew before. Let me court you, make you fall in love with me all over again. A fresh start.”
Annis leaned into the slight touch, wishing with all her heart it was so simple. They had both made choices which would haunt them till death. “There is no such thing as a clean slate. I’m happy ye’re now free to live yer life as ye choose. But that life canna be with me. I’m sorry.” She stared at his dusty boots, knowing if she looked into those intense eyes she would be lost again.
The footsteps faded along with her resolve. Annis sank to the floor, dropped her head in her hands, and sobbed. She cried for the foolish young lovers they had been. She cried for the passion she would never experience again, for there was only Rabbie in her heart. She cried for Fin, who would only know an invented likeness of a father. She cried for Rabbie who would never have the joy of seeing his beautiful, intelligent, caring son grow into a man.
When the tears subsided, she raged against the wicked earl who dictated a son according to his own selfish whims. She raged against the son who had not stood against that earl. Then she raged the loudest at fate for throwing Rabbie in her path a second time. To have a taste of bliss, then be denied the time to savor it, was beyond cruel.
“Ma, I’ve got everything on yer list,” called Fin on his way up the stairs. Mac scratched at the door as he waited for his master to open it.
Annis jumped up and wiped at her face. She rushed into the kitchen, busying herself in front of the hearth so he wouldn’t see her swollen eyes. “Set it all on the table, mo luran. Ye’re a good lad to do so much for yer mother.”
She could feel his grin behind her. “It isna much, Ma. And it’s what a mon does when he’s mon of the house.”
Her heart ached at his words. Her boy should have never been the “mon of the house” at his age. Resentment stirred in her breast as she thought of Rabbie’s son. Another boy who had all the advantages of a fine English family, never knowing a childhood without two parents.
Dinna indulge in self-pity. Ye both have a fine life in front of ye. Look to the future.
“Aunt Sorcha and Uncle Donald will pick us up in the morning. Ye’re still set on bringing Mac with ye?” she asked, her natural optimism returning. “The Scottish deerhounds willna scare him?”
“Mac isna afraid of anything, Ma. He doesna ken he’s a wee pup. He thinks he’s as big as or bigger than any deerhound.” Fin came up behind her and placed a kiss on her cheek. “I canna wait to see Grandda. He thought I’d grown the last visit. Wait until I stand eye to eye with him.”
“Dinna be disappointed if Da himself is taller than ye remember.” Oh, this boy was the light in her life. She turned then and hugged him. Perhaps a little too hard.
“Are ye well, Ma? Yer eyes dinna look so good,” he said, putting up with the fierce squeeze from his mother.
“I got smoke in my eyes when I was stoking the embers. I’m fine.” Annis kissed his cheek. Fin made any sacrifice, any sorrow worth the hurt. She changed the subject. “I wonder what the MacNaughtons have planned for the summer solstice?”
“Last year was braw. Grandda made the most gigantic bonfire the MacNaughton had ever seen in his life,” he exclaimed, his hazel eyes taking on more green than brown in his excitement. “I’m staying up to see the sunrise this time.”
“Ye say that every year.” She laughed and poked his chest lightly. He’d already made her heart feel lighter. “But I wish ye luck. Now go and check what I’ve packed and add whatever else ye may need. We’ll be gone a month.”
The afternoon had been a disaster. Robert poured himself a brandy and sat in a chair overlooking Trongate. He watched men on horseback, carriages, and wagons maneuver to avoid each other on the busy street below. A costermonger sold hand pies across from the hotel to passing pedestrians, and his stomach growled. He might drink his supper tonight.
