Page 93 of Irresistible
Long-buried emotions swelled in Dougal’s chest and mind. He took a moment to rein them under control. “You humble me.”
“Hardly. You’re one of the humblest people I’ve ever met,” Da said with a laugh. Sobering, he added, “I truly am sorry to have cut your career short.”
“You don’t need to apologize. It’s all right,” Dougal said, recalling his conversation with Max and grateful that he’d had his friend’s advice. “It isn’t what I planned, but I am up for a new challenge. I’ve been giving it some thought, and I would be interested in serving in the Lords if that ever came up.”
As he laughed, Da’s eyes sparkled with joy. “That’s my boy. I will make sure the right people know that. You’d be an excellent representative for Scotland.”
Dougal loved how his father always championed his children. “You don’t think my…parentage would be a problem? It isn’t exactly a secret that I’m not yours.”
“You are mine in every way that matters, particularly under the law.” Da’s blue eyes narrowed, glinting with a sheen of fury whenever the topic of Dougal’s paternity was raised. Which, because of Da’s ire, wasn’t often. “That is long settled, at least at home. I thought it was here. Are you not treated well?”
“I am,” Dougal assured him. There were looks and whispers, which would always happen, whether people knew of his birth or not. He was a Black man in a society where Black men, particularly of his status, stood out.
“Good. If I witness anything untoward while I am here, I will not tolerate it.”
Of that Dougal was absolutely certain. “Does that mean you don’t want to return to Scotland immediately?”
“Hell, no. That’s a bloody long journey. You’re going to take me and Robbie around and show us all your favorite places, starting with this Phoenix Club you’re involved with.”
Dougal was quite glad he’d come. “We will visit tomorrow, after you’re rested. Tuesdays are the best night anyway.”
“Right, that’s when the ladies are invited into the gentlemen’s side of the club?” Da smiled as he raised his glass. “How things have changed. I am glad to see it.” He barely swallowed his drink before adding, “But I’m up for an outing this evening after I take a short respite. If you had plans, Robbie and I will join you.”
In fact, Dougal had originally wanted to attend the engagement ball for the Marquess of Witney and his betrothed because he knew Jess would be there working to deter Lord Gregory Blakemore from courtship. But after she’d refused him last night, he no longer saw the point in going. “I don’t have plans, actually.”
Da’s eyes narrowed, and he pointed at Dougal. “There.”
Dougal blinked, wondering what in the devil his father meant. “What?”
“There’s more to what you just said. I can see it behind your eyes. When I asked where you’d been hiding, it wasn’t just about your physical presence and not being at home. When you did come home, you were reserved, different. You were not the boisterous, openhearted boy you’d once been.” He exhaled, and there was a tinge of sadness to the sound. “I suppose you grew up.”
“Yes.” While the war hadn’t ruined him, it had certainly changed his perspective and likely his demeanor.
“I would also assume you’ve spent the last several years being very secretive. Hiding was a necessity. Perhaps now that you are finished with that, you can come out from behind the wall.”
He did hide himself. Jess had been partially right in saying he didn’t know himself—he hadn’t given himself the chance. “I hadn’t realized I was doing that, but you’re right,” he said softly.
“Does that mean we can finally talk about Alistair?”
There it was. The clearest indication of Dougal’s practice of burying emotion, of pretending it wasn’t a strong, driving force—or of not allowing it to be. “We’ve talked about him.” While that was true, Dougal knew what his father meant. Then why was he hesitating? Because he was still trying to hide behind the wall, and he couldn’t. Not anymore. Not with his father. Not with Jess. And certainly not with himself.
“I miss him,” Dougal said simply. “I try not to think about him.”
“Why?”
“It hurts.”
His father nodded. “I would hope there is also joy. The problem with suppressing or ignoring emotion is that you keep out the good along with the bad. All of it is worthwhile. It pains me to think you don’t allow yourself to experience that.”
Dougal hated that he caused his father worry. He had enough to be concerned with. “How do you do it? How do you think of Alistair and not succumb to grief?”
“I did and I still do, though it’s less than it was. I think about happy times, and I remind myself that Alistair wouldn’t want me to be sad. He’d want me to live.”
Except even that was in danger. “I will try to do that.” Dougal spoke in a low, anguished tone. “But Da, I can’t do all that and contemplate losing you too. Yet, I must.”
Da sat forward, his eyes misting. “Don’t do that. I’m here, and I plan to be here for a while, no matter what the doctor said. We’ve too much to do together.”
Relief rushed over Dougal, and not because his father would somehow miraculously heal himself, but because this—letting his emotions in—felt good. Da was right about what Alistair would want. “I remember the first time I fell off my horse,” Dougal said. “I was six, and Alistair came to help me up. It hurt and I was crying, but as soon as Alistair arrived, I tried to be brave. Alistair told me to have a good cry, that I would feel better for it, that it would give me the resolve to get back on the horse.”
