Forever Yours Series Bundle (Book 1-3)
His friend ran his fingers through the thick strands of his dark hair and grimaced. “Yes… for days.”
Alasdair flinched.
“It was stories of you that kept her sane and allowed her to fight for life.”
“Why did you never tell me?” he demanded hoarsely. “Why? We are friends, Quinton. You knew how I felt about Willow.”
He would never have been in any doubt. Alasdair had professed years ago with a simple declaration of ‘I love your sister, and I’m going to marry her. I will endeavor to provide for her so that she will never want for an
ything. I swear to you.’
It had been Alasdair’s way of declaring his intention to the one person whose opinion truly mattered to him.
“She was blinded Al…blinded and broken.”
The depth of fury that rocketed through Alasdair’s heart shocked him. “This is your opinion of me? You think me so shallow I would stay away from the woman I love more than life because of blindness? That I would have stayed away because she could not see?” he snarled.
A pained look swirled in the depth of Quinton’s eyes. “I realized quite late the depth of your affections. You were both so young. Willow was sixteen when you met her, and you were twenty. After her rejection, you left England for several months. I thought that meant the affections you felt for her were fleeting. It was only in the Peninsula I truly understood the love you held for her, and that you left, because you wouldn’t have been able to endure seeing her in Society on another man’s arm.”
War. The memories crowded Alasdair’s mind. The stench of blood, the feel of despair, the burn of the agonizing pain as the bullet had lodged itself in his stomach. A wound he should have died from. But Quinton had anchored him to life by simply telling him of Willow.
Hell. “And now? What is your opinion now?”
His friend sighed. “Though I know the love between you, it is hard for me not to smash your teeth in. You were leaning over my sister.”
Quinton shot him a furious glare and Alasdair was startled to feel the tip of his ears burning. His loss of control had been witnessed. Never had he intended their embrace to traverse such a path. Quinton had only seen them after Alasdair had brought her to pleasure, inhaling the sweet scent of her desire. He was damned lucky he had not followed his wild inclination to splay her legs and kiss her deeply in her most intimate spot.
He would have surely been facing her father at dawn.
“Honor demands you marry my sister,” Quinton said into the quiet of the library.
Alasdair’s gut clenched. “I am not sure if I should feel happiness or despair,” he murmured.
His friend threw him a curious glance. “Despair?”
Then understanding dawned into his green eyes so much like Willow’s. “Even buried in Suffolk you have heard the rumors? You know that Willow is dowry less?”
Alasdair nodded in confirmation.
“You need an heiress. Your estates are in debt by thousands. The winnings you make from gambling is not enough.”
Quinton walked over to the mantle and poured whisky into two glasses. “Why in God’s name did you pursue my sister, if you knew she had no money upon marriage? I have spoken to father several times, and I assure you, he will not unbend on his stance.”
Alasdair took a swallow of his drink, appreciating the fire that trailed down his throat. “I was not pursuing her. I merely invited her for an outing. I was desperate to fill the need in me to know how she has fared. I never intended to lose control,” he said ruefully.
“Your intention was to trifle with my sister, and then marry someone else?” Quinton asked, a dangerous undercurrent in his tone.
“No…I had no intention of even touching her.”
A muscle ticked along Quinton’s jaw. “So what the hell happened?”
Alasdair knew he would sound like a fool, but he still admitted it. “She laughed.” And the sound had sneaked into the cold dark place where he had been dwelling and thawed him.
Quinton went silent.
Alasdair figured he didn’t have to say anymore.
“You love her.”