Page 45 of The Dravenhearst Brides

Kentucky has called for a vote.

—Excerpt, Dravenhearst Distilling Inventory Log as maintained by Merrick Dravenhearst

Aswooshing whisper, then sunlight, bright against her sleep-crusted eyelids. Margot flinched away.

“Margot, love?”

His voice was the only thing able to penetrate the laudanum haze. She felt a cool brush at her forehead, sweeping back her tangled hair. The kindness in the gesture sent a bolt of heat straight between her legs. She opened her eyes, then screamed.

Eleanor lay beside her in the bed, phantom fingers brushing Margot’s face.

“Margot.” Merrick stood across the room, backlit by sunlight streaming through the window. In two bounds, he was at her side.

Eleanor vanished. Beau jumped onto the bed in her place, pawing maniacally at the sheets where she’d been. He snorted with displeasure.

“Margot, love,” Merrick repeated, eyes wide with concern. “What’s wrong?”

She shook the dust off her vocal cords. When her voice came, it was little more than a croak. “You…you startled me…that’s all.”

He frowned.

Margot waited. Already, mere seconds into consciousness, she was so tired.

“It’s the middle of the day,” he said, sinking to the mattress beside her. “Why are you still abed?”

“It’s…it’s normal…” she said, eyes filling with tears. “I’m just tired. It’s normal.”

His frown deepened, a furrow between his brows. He reached for her hands. “I think I should send for the physician.”

She struggled. Suddenly, his grip felt restraining, not comforting. “No. It’s normal. You said so yourself.”

“I know I did, but that was weeks ago, love. Xander told me…” He trailed off, suddenly nervous.

“What?” she demanded. “What did Xander say?”

“I’ve been busier than usual lately, with the distillery and the upcoming speech for the legislature. I simply didn’t realize…”

“Realize what?”

“That you’ve been in bed for weeks, all day while I’ve been working.”

Weeks…is that how long it’s been?

“I get up for meals.” It seemed important to emphasize this. She was functioning. She was taking care of herself and the baby. She was fine.

“Yes, you do,” he conceded. “That’s why I…I didn’t realize.”

“Xander is exaggerating. We’ve had a tiff.” They had…hadn’t they? She couldn’t quite remember though. Like smoke curling through her fingers, the memory came, then slipped away.

“Ruth hasn’t seen you in weeks, said you haven’t been visiting like usual. She’s also concerned. Quite concerned.”

Ruth—calm, capable, dependable Ruth—was much harder to explain away than the aging, half-senile manservant.

Margot shrank back from Merrick, making herself small, pressing her spine against the headboard.

“Don’t call the physician,” she whispered. “Please don’t send me away. I couldn’t bear to leave the house, to leave you.”

“Who said anything about sending you away?” He reached for her again, trying to bundle her in his arms. Again, it felt restraining. Such large arms, capable of great force, great harm. Eleanor quaked in her mind.

“Let me go,” she shrieked, kicking out. “I won’t go!”

“Margot!” He scooted back from her, shocked. A new level of concern bloomed in his face. “Margot, you’re…you’re ill. I can’t believe I didn’t notice sooner. I failed you.”

She began to cry then. He hadn’t failed; she had.

“I don’t”—she hiccuped—“want the physician.”

He fell silent, watching her cry. Agony reared, his face crumpling like a little boy’s. “I can’t stand by and do nothing. I won’t. I’ve made this mistake before, Margot.”

Before.

Margot took a deep, shuddering inhale. She needed to say it. She needed to be brave enough, trust him to understand. No more hiding.

“Something strange is happening to me,” she said slowly. “But it’s not something a physician can help with, and you know it, Merrick.”

He did know. Fear was written across his face, in every worry line.

“It’s the house,” she concluded. “Something in the walls. I already have sadness within me, and this house makes everything worse. It’s untenable. It’s swallowing me.”

He didn’t hesitate. “Then we’ll go. We’ll leave. Together. The legislative dinner is tomorrow in Louisville. We’ll go, and we won’t come back.”

She nodded, relief seeping in.

When he spoke again, his voice was small. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you leave sooner?”

Because leaving here means leaving you.

Of one thing she was certain, Merrick wouldn’t leave his distillery. Not for long, at least. He would always come back to this place. If she couldn’t find a way to be here, to live here with him, where would that leave them?

She avoided his eyes. “I didn’t realize what was happening.” It was only half a lie, better than most of the others she’d told of late.

“Really?” He tipped her chin up and took a deep breath. “Margot, did you maybe…did you stay for me?”

Naked vulnerability in his eyes, enough to take her breath away. This man who had been abandoned time and time again. Who never believed himself worth staying for.

There was only one answer. If anyone in this whole wide world deserved the truth, it was Merrick Dravenhearst.

“Yes.”

His lips tightened.

“I stayed for you, and I would do it again,” she said, trying for bravery.

She waited for the relief, for the love to sink in.

But it didn’t.

His face collapsed in pain. He shuttered his eyes.

“Merrick?”

“You shouldn’t have.” He shook his head and rose from the bed, pulling away from her. “You stayed for me, and I didn’t even notice you were hurting. I’m not worth staying for, Margot.”

And with that, he departed the room, taking her heart with him.