Page 81 of Enticing the Devil

But now, as he acknowledged his sister’s intelligent and somewhat solemn gaze, he wondered if perhaps such a separation was unrealistic. He could suddenly imagine Caillie and Eirwyn as two sides of the same coin. One so upfront, fearless, and restless. The other so capable, confident, and far too pensive for her age.

They could be good for each other.

Or they could dislike each other immensely.

“Is there anything else, brawd?”

Beynon cleared his throat and glanced toward his stepfather’s study. “No. I suppose not. I think I’ll just try to get caught up on things for the rest of the night.”

Eirwyn nodded. “Would you like me to arrange anything specific for dinner tonight?”

He realized then that his sister had likely taken on a lot of the duties their mother typically tended to during her illness. That in addition to his own.

“Whatever you decide for tonight is fine,” he muttered. “I reckon Lady Anne will wish to be included on such discussions in future. Perhaps you and Mam—”

“I’ll see to it,” Eirwyn interrupted.

Beynon scowled at the unexpected note of authority in her voice. Why did it feel like she’d suddenly grown up in the months he’d been gone?

“Thank you,” he muttered then watched as his sister gave a nod before walking away.

The study was little bigger than a pantry found in some of the larger London homes he’d visited of late. But the cramped little room, filled with a desk, two chairs, a bookcase lined with texts, and little else held a particular nostalgia for him.

After his mother had married Cedric Thomas and they’d moved from their tiny room at the back of the village inn to this grand old house, this was where his new stepfather had sat him down any time they needed to discuss his behavior. It was where Beynon had learned what a father’s love looked like. How a man could be stern and loving at the same time. How a father could disapprove of a son’s actions and mete out discipline if needed while still believing in the child’s potential for better.

This was the room where, little by little, week by week, year after year, Beynon had learned to accept responsibility for his mistakes and what it meant to work hard to support a family.

Family.

Beynon tensed and his stomach knotted.

Could Lady Anne already be carrying his child? Would she know by now?

Even as he wondered, he knew he wouldn’t ask her. Despite the current strain and lack of communication between them, he trusted that if she were to discover she was with child, she’d let him know.

He sure as hell couldn’t allow himself to dwell on it. Because thoughts of children led to the idea of conception, which immediately reminded him that their marriage had yet to be consummated. And that was one thing he really couldn’t dwell on or he’d end up doing something rash and stupid to correct the situation.

So, instead, he decided to focus intently on getting back into the rhythms and patterns he so loved about his life on the farm. No doubt his mother and Eirwyn had managed everything without issue. But he preferred to have firsthand knowledge. Perhaps he should visit the pastures. He’d count every damned sheep in the flock if it helped him keep his mind away from his reluctant bride.

He might have forced her into an unwanted marriage, but he wasn’t about to force any husbandly rights when she’d made it quite clear she wanted nothing to do with him.

Perhaps in time she’d recall the passion they’d shared and she’d seek him out...

He shoved his hands into his hair and clenched his jaw.

Think of something else. Anything else.

He picked up a stack of paperwork and leaned over the desk to review every notation with focused intent.

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