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CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

S he looked even more beautiful than Lysander remembered.

It had only been a few days, but in that time, he had worked so hard to forget Margaret that he’d forgotten just how stunning a woman she was.

The auburn hair. The slender frame, which was also curvaceous.

The round face, those full lips, and the green eyes…

eyes that are filled with trouble and mischief , as if even now she is trying to frustrate me.

He did his best to look past all that because he needed to be strong.

“I am sorry about this,” Lysander said. He did not go to her, keeping his distance because he feared that if he came close enough to smell her, he would lose himself. “It will not happen again.”

“As am I,” Margaret said. She wore a knowing smile, her eyes glimmering in a way that suggested she was in on a joke that he did not understand. “And I promise, I had nae intention of bringing her to Scotland with me.”

“I should hope not.”

It was undoubtedly tense between them. Lysander, doing what he could not to engage. Margaret, watching him with that look which suggested she knew more than he did. In a way, Lysander was reminded of when they had first met, how just a look from her could undo him and drive him wild.

“How… how are things, concerning Lady Brimstone?” Margaret asked next.

“Not as bad as they might be,” Lysander said cautiously. “You may not know this, but Lady Brimstone is not exactly well-liked. And she is a known gossip and instigator. Where some believe what she has said, many assume she is exaggerating.”

“That’s guid.”

“I have sent letters,” Lysander continued. “Julian also, and a few others. I suspect that in time, most of what was written will be forgotten.” A tight nod. “In the end, it did not cause nearly the problem that I had feared.”

“That I had feared too,” she agreed. “And I am heartened to hear it. I was worried about the girls. You ken that, I hope.”

“I do.”

“I would nae da anything to upset or hurt them. As strange as it sounds, I dae love them, Lysander. And despite all that has happened, that will nae change.”

He grimaced at the words, his chest tightening with guilt.

I know this of her, how she feels for my daughters, how desperate she was to see that no harm befell them.

That alone should have been enough to see him change his mind and tell her what a fool he had been, for Margaret was not a bad influence or anything the like.

And his daughters — would having a stepmother who cared for them not be a boon?

Was that not something he should have coveted?

Lysander was trying his best not to meet Margaret’s searching eyes. Still, he could not quite look past what had happened between them. The first time he had dared to open himself to another, he had hurt him. Could he risk suffering such a thing again?

“May I ask ye something?” Margaret asked, taking a step forward as she did. Lysander had to resist the urge to step back. “If it pleases ye?”

“It does…”

“That day when ye came to me with the letter…” She was determined now, refusing to look away, forcing Lysander to meet her because he did not wish to appear weak. “Before I noticed it, before I…” She sighed and shook her head. “Before I ruined everything. Ye were going to tell me something?”

Lysander grimaced again. “Perhaps. Now, it does not seem relevant.”

“So ye say,” she said, taking another step closer, so that there was less than ten feet between them. “But I would like to be the judge.”

“I…” Lysander shook his head in dismissal. “It is too late now, Margaret. Much has changed since then.”

“Has it though?” she pushed gently. “Or da ye just wish that it had?”

“Everything has changed,” he said sharply. “You saw to that.”

She winced, but she did not back down. “Still, I would hear what ye were going to tell me. As much as ye think things have changed, I…” She bit her lip, considering. “I am nae so sure that they have. Not by my mind.”

“It is too late.”

“Too late for what? I am here, Lysander. I have nae left yet, nor will I if –” She caught her tongue, careful not to say what he was certain was right there on its tip. “Tell me. Please, I… I need to hear it.”

She was giving him an opening. A chance to rectify his foolishness and stubbornness.

Lysander’s pulse began to race, and he felt his breathing become harsh.

Deep down, he knew what she wanted to hear, just as he knew how desperate he was to say it.

Tell her… tell her that you want her to stay.

That you need her to stay. Tell her that you love her…

Fear held him back. Still, that flickering turmoil that had lived with him his entire life, rejection, loneliness, heartache felt when one dared to give themselves to another. If he did tell her how he felt, what if she still turned him away?

“What of you?” he ventured carefully, daring to hold her stare with a determined one of his own. “Before you fell from your horse. And after, when I came to you. You, too, had something to tell me. I cannot help but wonder what that might have been?”

Margaret broke into a smile. “Is that how ye wish to play this game?”

“Game…” Lysander felt a smile forming on his lips, but he kept it back. “Not a game, Margaret. I simply want the truth.”

“The truth, is it?” Again, she took a step closer. “Aurelia told me that these last few days, you have been…” Her smile fell for a moment. “That ye have been behaving differently. Saddened, she said. Upset. Nae yourself.”

“And you wish to know why?”

“I can take a guess.”

Despite himself, Lysander took a step toward her. And then another. It was as if she was pulling him closer, a force he could not resist. “I’m listening.”

“I hurt ye,” Margaret said, the smile still gone from her lips, guilt now coloring her tone and the stare she held on him.

“When I suggested that I leave…” Her shoulders slumped, and she looked on him with pity.

“Ye must ken, it was said out of love for your daughters, Lysander. Guilt, as I was certain it was all my fault. I never meant to… to… I never wanted to hurt ye. Or to suggest that I dae nae…”

“Do not what?” He took another step closer, less than five feet away. Just say it… say the words so I can return them.

Margaret hesitated. She bit her lip. She studied him closely, her eyes roaming with uncertainty.

It was all so silly, this little performance, but it was not a surprise.

This entire marriage had been colored by two people who were not exactly known for their honesty or their clarity.

Confusion had haunted this marriage since the first day, and where they had each sought at different times to clear away that confusion, it was always there.

But it was fading away. Lysander could see in Margaret that desire to once and for all dispense with such things. He looked at her, his eyes pleading, his heart open, needing to hear the words that she was so close to saying…

“Ye are going to make me say it first, aren’t ye?” She raised an eyebrow at him.

“For someone who likes the sound of their voice as much as you do, I am surprised by the objection.”

She scoffed. “Perhaps I like a man willing to take charge?”

“Perhaps I like a woman who knows what she wants.” He was smiling now, laughing softly at the banter and the way they danced around the point.

“What I want, Lysander?” she sighed and then smiled.

“As obvious as that is, it looks as if for the last time I am going to need to clear the air, for if I dae nae, I will have nae choice but to return to Scotland. And to be honest with ye, the weather this time of year is nae to be coveted. Anything to avoid such things.”

He laughed. “Ah yes, the weather. I would hate for you to be burdened by such a thing as that.”

“Ye thus leave me nae choice…” She took another step forward, closing the distance between them so that they were so close that if he wished it he could reach out and take her hands.

He did not, however. Not yet… “What I want, Lysander, is to stay here, with ye and the girls, to live as your wife from now until… well, until forever.”

“And why would you want such a thing as that?” he asked her with a wicked grin.

She cocked her eyebrow. “Perhaps I cannae stop thinking about that time on the balcony at the Brimstone Ball?” Lysander’s pulse quickened at the mention of that most glorious moment.

“Perhaps it is your fingers that I covet, for they do splendid work. Or perhaps…” She looked away sheepishly, biting her lip before looking to him again.

“Or perhaps, most likely, it is because I love ye. I loved ye last week. I loved ye when I suggested that I return to Scotland. And dammit, Lysander!” She laughed, and it was music to his ears. “I love ye now!”

It wasn’t a surprise to hear it. And where Lysander had expected such words, the effect was as if they had come from nowhere.

He felt them in his heart, wrapping it and pulling it back together so it might never break again.

He felt them in his soul, a piece that was missing, now found and never to be lost again.

He felt it like the sun was coming out from behind the clouds, warm on his face and his body, giving him life.

Why was I so scared? Why was I so willing to give this away? To protect myself and my daughters? To me, it feels now as if nothing can hurt me. Such was the power of love.

“When I came to you the other day…” Lysander reached out and took Margaret’s hands. “You know what I was going to say, don’t you?”

“I would still like to hear it.”

“I was scared before that, Margaret. Terrified to let myself feel…” He shook his head.

“Feel anything. But when I read Lady Brimstone’s letter, I realized that it wasn’t fear that I should be feeling.

Dammit, when I read what she had written, all I wanted to do was protect you.

To prove to you that it didn’t matter what she said, because I didn’t care. And I don’t care. That is the truth.”

“Ye still have nae said it…” She laughed softly, squeezing his hands tightly.

He smiled for her, holding her eyes so she could see the smile he wore in his own. “I love you, Margaret. I did not wish to. I tried to fight it. But…” His smile grew. “I love you. Now. Yesterday. Tomorrow, I am sure.” He kissed her right hand. “Do not go to Scotland. Do not leave me.”

“Oh, so ye want me to stay?” She pretended to sound surprised. “I would hate to be a burden. Or…” She winked. “A bad influence.”

“I am the bad influence,” he laughed. “And you…” He kissed her hand again. “You are what keeps me whole.”

Still holding each other’s hands, they gazed into each other's eyes, the love felt for the other building inside of them. Margaret did not answer him, smiling to herself, amusement brimming on her lips.

“Well…” Lysander asked nervously. “Will you… Will you stay?”

“On one condition, I will.”

“Anything. You name it.”

“That ye kiss me already,” she said. “Because if ye dae nae, I am nae sure I will believe –”

Lysander did not hesitate. He pulled Margaret into him, his lips finding hers, planting them and pressing them into her as if he might never stop.

His hands moved to her face, holding her, refusing to let go.

He had forgotten how sweet she tasted. He had forgotten just how much she undid him.

But most of all, he had forgotten how desperate he was for her, unable to fathom that he had almost let her go.

Margaret kissed him back fully and with returned passion.

Nothing else needed to be said, and they both knew it.

There they stood, in the middle of the garden, kissing with fury and desire, a fire building around them that seemed to explode and announce to all that this marriage was more than one of convenience, and was certainly one not befitting of an end date.

This marriage was a love match, and finally, they both knew it for the truth that it was. How it took me this long to realize… I will never know.