She despised him, he’d read it in her eyes.
Perhaps the happiness they had felt over the past weeks had been an illusion? He, who was normally inclined to expect the worst from a situation, had been caught up in a ridiculous romantic dream. This was reality.
He’d walked for miles by the time he turned for home, and the pleasant ache in his legs had turned to a heavy weariness. Then the rain came down, a summer storm—he had to wipe it from his eyes so he could see where he was going.
It was very late when he reached the castle. He was glad of that because he didn’t want to see or speak to anyone. So it was an unpleasant surprise when he opened the door to his bedroom and found his father waiting for him.
Archie had been asleep and now he started up, blinking in the light of the single candle. It had burnt down so far it was nothing but a puddle of wax with a wick, which made Rory feel guilty when he realised how long he had kept his father from his own bed.
“There was no need to wait for me,” he said stiffly, and reached for a towel to dry his face and hair. He needed to strip down to his bare skin but he hesitated, something in his father’s face capturing his attention.
“Was there not?” Archie’s eyes, so like his son’s in colour, were hard. “Were your feelings hurt, lad?”
Rory sat down on the side of the bed, no longer caring how wet he was. “Yes! No . . .” He sighed. “I was ashamed.”
“Why were you shamed?” his father asked him.
“That I sold myself for money. A man should have more pride than that. You know as well as I that if Olivia hadn’t come along I would have married the Widow MacIntyre.”
“And yet you wed Olivia for money. Isn’t that the same?”
Rory shifted uncomfortably. “It doesn’t feel the same.”
“Aye, well, you love her. I suppose you knew that the moment you set eyes on her, lad.”
Rory managed a mocking half smile. “She doesn’t think so. She believes me a fortune hunting rogue without a decent bone in my body, never mind the fact that I would sell that body for a penny if I thought it would help Invermar.”
His father shook his head. “I know nothing of that, but I think you’ll find she’s as ashamed as you. I had to change my shirt after she soaked her way through it, crying and wailing all over me.” He laughed when he saw the expression on Rory’s face. “Oh, you like that, do you? Well I have an idea you’ll like even more, and frankly I don’t care if you don’t like it. You’ll do as you’re told.”
Rory’s expression turned wary. “What idea?”
“I arranged today for the carpenters and the stone mason to come and start work on the west tower, and anywhere else that needs their attention. They tell me it will take a week to make the place safe, maybe two. There’ll be no searching for the sword while they’re here.”
“But I thought . . .” Rory knew that with every passing day Archie fretted more. How could he calmly give them two weeks off?
“When you come back will be soon enough,” his father informed him.
“Come back from where?” Rory asked, surprised.
“I think you should take your wife to see her land on the coast. It’s hers after all, and she should get to know it. Maybe it will settle her to see it, make her realise that she holds a part of this country and is not a foreigner after all. You can travel together, take your pistol in case, but it will be safe enough.”
Rory had forgotten about his mother’s land that was now Olivia’s. “Does she want to go?” he asked, but what he really meant was: Does she want to go with me?
“She seems keen enough.” His father yawned. “I need my bed if the castle is to be full of hammering and sawing in the morning. You should be grateful you won’t be here, lad.”
Rory shook his head. “Father, I don’t know if—”
“If you want her? If she wants you?” Impatience made his voice sharp. “Well this is one way to find out, isn’t it?” He went to get up but stumbled as if he was too weak or too dizzy to stand. Rory caught him and held him, fear making his heart bang against his chest wall.
“You’re unwell,” he said, the words he hadn’t dared to utter for months now.
He thought Archie would shrug them off, laugh at him, but he didn’t. Instead he patted his hand as if he was too weary to argue. “I’ve known for a while. I went to see some fancy doctor while I was in London visiting you. I thought you might have guessed.”
“I didn’t. You should have told me.”
“I thought there was still plenty of time, but it’s slipping away from me, Rory. I wish . . .” he sighed, seemed about to leave, and then made the effort to speak again. “I wish I’d found the sword.”
“There’s still time to find it,” Rory said. “I’ll stay and dive.”