Breanne sighed, returning to her chair. She closed her eyes against the heavy, painful thrumming that filled her head. Fatigue relaxed her limbs, causing her arm to casually drape across the arm of the chair.
Rough fingers touched her temple; her eyes popped open and she jerked at the contact. Reese rested on his haunches on the side of her chair; his concerned countenance gave way to irritation when she hastily inched to the other side of the cushion, taking the little space it afforded.
"Wha' happened?" Reese demanded.
"Whatever do you mean?"
"Yer head, 'tis bruised. Did yer parents—"
"No!" Breanne quickly denied. "How could you think that?"
"Wha' happened?" he repeated, ignoring her question.
"I fainted. It was only a small mishap," she hurried to assure him. "I have been fainting quite a bit lately," she finished, shrugging daintily.
His responding roar made her flinch.
"Would you be so kind as to stop that?" she snapped, glaring at him while holding her head. "I do not feel well and when you growl like a bear it does not help the situation."
He looked her over. "Yer unwell. I could tell when I saw ye," he accused. "Ye should be abed."
"Yes, well, I have guests as you can see," she responded. Another wave of dizziness swept over her and she closed her eyes.
"Wha's wrong?"
"Stop yelling. It's just a touch of vertigo, that is all," she snapped impatiently, and then paused. "Why are you behaving so well towards me, and why have you come to visit? I thought we'd agreed upon limiting our association with one another."
Reese stood up and snorted. "We agreed on nothing. Yer daft tae think I would listen tae anything ye 'ave tae say."
Scooping her up, he ignored her gasp, carrying her up the stairs. "What do you think you're doing? Release me at once!"
"I'll see tae it ye rest until this dizziness is gone 'n tha' bump on yer head is mended."
"No, I have guests. I thank you for your suggestion—"
He snorted again.
"—but I wish to stay downstairs."
Breanne gasped when his booted foot slammed against her bedroom door, causing it to swing open and lightly bounce against the wall. It was surprising, though, the care he took in gently laying her on the feather stuffed mattress and pulling the quilts over her. After he had tucked in the coverlets a bit, he paused; his eyes staring into hers with a warmth akin to flickering candlelight. She lay perfectly still as she stared back; and though on the surface, she appeared as calm and placid as an unrippled pond, her heart hammered within her chest. Beneath the layers of sheets and patchwork, her fingers began to tremble.
"This is so very improper," she whispered, unevenly. "Mother would have a hysterical fit if she witnessed this."
His answering smile disarmed her defenses. His eyes sparkled in amusement, a far more pleasing expression than the fierce frown that usually blazed against the world at large. Her eyes, of their own blasted accord, lowered to his generous lips, which were presently stretched wide. Rough, russet stubble grizzled his jaw line. Breanne realized that she was still staring at his mouth when his smile slowly melted away. Her eyes bounced up to his, and the heat from his stare almost became her undoing.
Breanne tore her gaze away from his, extracting her arms from under the sheets and uncomfortably fiddling with tails of yarn that adorned the corner of each quilt square. "This is really quite ridiculous. I am more than able to function on my feet," she declared, anxious to lighten the mood. Her distraction had the desired effect. Reese straightened, his expression hardening.
"Ye'll stay where I put ye 'n we'll talk aboot th' rest later."
The rest? There is naught to talk about.
"I'll not marry you..." she murmured the words as another wave of dizziness and nausea overcame her senses.
The only reply was his calloused fingers gently covering her eyes, a voice gentler than she would have thought he possessed, uttering only, "Sleep."
She tried to speak, but found herself unable. I only need to close my eyes for a minute or two...no more than that, surely.
The water was glassy and fringed with aspen and fir trees, a delicate breeze making their leaves and needles whisper one moment, and tinkle like crystal the next. She and Adam glided smoothly, as his sure oar strokes guided their rowboat toward the tall reeds on the far shore. Sunlight filtered through the lace edging of her parasol and dappled his clear brow. And for a moment, her whole being was filled with perfect peace.
Then something in the air shifted, a cloud casting its shadow across Adam's face, and she could feel a sob rise in her chest. The trees began to blur as quick tears fell, and when she blinked the drops away the trees had turned to men. Fishermen. All roundabout encircling the boat at a distance. Fishermen. But the lines from their poles hung suspended above the water. And they drew closer. With a growing dread, Breanne began to suspect that they had no desire to capture fish at all. The circle tightened and all she could see was glinting eyes and fishhooks. She turned frantically, grasping for Adam - but he had vanished!
Her mother rose from the water behind her, towering over and casting her own still darker shadow. "Bite down, Breanne!"
She clamped her eyes shut and pressed the palms of her hands against her ears...and though her mother's voice receded, it was replaced...drowned out by the chirping of a thousand birds...
The birds were real.
Breanne opened her eyes.
And a blade of light pierced through her window.
Impossible! A hard frown settled upon her mouth. Though the room was shrouded in grey, the sun was on the eastern horizon, just cresting the mountaintop. Morning! Breanne's eyebrows furrowed in irritation. It was horrifying that she had done nothing but sleep the whole day away, again! How in creation had her mother refrained for nearly twenty four hours from storming into her room and demanding she rise and play a proper hostess? Nothing could be further from propriety!
"When I actually need her to invade my privacy and wake me, she refuses," Breanne muttered, grumpily.
She sat up, looked around, and then winced. Hair pins had been in her head all night long. Carefully, she extracted each one, and once her hair was unbound, ran her fingers through it. After placing her hair pins upon her nightstand, she donned her dressing gown and then timidly poked her head out the door to look down the hallway. All was quiet throughout the manor. It was safe. Safe?
"Afraid to walk about in my own home," she muttered, shaking her head. "Pathetic."
She tightened the robe around her form before leaving the confines of her bedroom and tip-toeing down the steps to the main hall. Normally it would have been freezing - in fact, it should have been, but she could see that someone had started a fire in the hearth. It was blazing, almost angrily, as if it too had been summoned to life too early.
She walked up to the hearth and held her hands out towards it, eagerly seeking the warmth that came her way. The fire crackled, sparked, and roared some more.
"Yes, yes," she pacified. "I am angry as well."
"Why?"
Breanne jolted, barely strangling a shriek as she whipped around and found that Reese was seated in one of the grand chairs in front of the hearth. Her cheeks turned several shades of pink before she responded, lightly breathless, "You should have made your presence known. It is unkind to intrude on a person's private moment."
He raised an eyebrow, and she instantly remembered her own intrusion into his moment with Sarah. Her blush deepened.
She began fidgeting with her buttons and the hem of her sleeves, fervently wishing for more layers of clothing than she presently wore. This was the second time within the course of two days that she found herself in his presence when she was not properly dressed. In an attempt to ease her discomfort, she hastened to the closest chair, crossing her arms protectively in front of her.
"I was 'ere first, lass."
She nodded, embarrassed. "I know. I am sorry." Breanne looked into the fire. "I find that I am in a sour mood this morning."
"Ah, and 'tis barely mornin'," he grinned.
She looked at him as if he had grown another head.
He raised both eyebrows. "Wha' are ye starin' at?"
"Forgive my rudeness, but what are you doing here... and why are you smiling?"
He relaxed into the chair before responding. "I suppose yer sour disposition makes me smile."
Breanne frowned.
"As fer the other question, ye needed a fire, and I'm knowin' ye lied 'bout yer capability in tha' realm."
"How—?"
He sat forward and sternly regarded her. "It matters nae, lass. But ye willna lie tae me again. I'll nae take kindly tae th' habit once we are wed."
Breanne placed a hand to her suddenly aching head. "It is too early in the morning to debate such a ridiculous statement."
"Listen closely: It wasna a statement ye heard. T'was a command."
Breanne looked him square in the eye, indignance sharpening her tongue. "I only just won my freedom. All of my life, I have been restricted with regard to what I drink, what I say, and how I behave. I've left all of that behind me and have finally reached a point in my life where I can start picking up the pieces and begin anew, or at the very least, make a valiant effort to do so. The last thing I desire is yet another person commanding me to do this or to do that, or lecturing me about how to live my life!" she passionately finished.
He smiled again.
What was wrong with him?
"Lass, I dinna give a horse's hairy—"
"Do not say it, I beg you!" she yelled, holding a hand up.
"I dinna...care," he amended, grinning, "'bout wha' ye eat, or drink. More important matters occupy me time. I dinna care wha' ye say, as long as ye speak tae me wi' respect 'n honesty."
Why am I allowing this discussion to take place? Breanne shook her head. "I am sorry, but I cannot marry you."
"Why?"
"I-I am not in lo— I am not ready for such a commitment. I miss my husband, and I love him still."
"If wha' ye say is true, then ye will marry me."
"Are you daft?" she whispered
Irritation settled into his features. "Whose bairn do ye carry?" he snapped.
Confusion was evident in Breanne's face. Why was he asking questions that he already knew the answers to? "Torrington's...Adam's," she fumbled.
"Whose life will be ruined if ye dinna marry me?"
"Mine."
"And the bairn's."
Breanne stood up, now fully awake. Her fists were clenched at her sides. "No—"
"Aye. Would ye have yer wee one grow up an outcast? Unable to make a living or a life? Breanne's face paled, and he pressed on, aware of his advantage. "They willna believe th' bairn is Adam's."
"They won't believe it anyhow," she whispered. Reese knew that but frowned that it had to be so.
"If ye wed me afore th' lad or lass comes into this world...there'll nae be a soul can claim, nae matter th' blackness av their mind or th' bile av their tongue, the bairn was sired by any but yer husband. If ye dinna wed, yer wein shall be counted as none but bastard. Is tha' what ye want?" Reese inwardly cursed himself when he saw Breanne wince. He was hurting her, he knew. But she needed to see the truth of things. A tear trailed down her face, but she would not meet his gaze. Sighing, he stood up and took a tentative step towards her, but faltered when another voice chimed in.
"He is right, Breanne. Try as you might, you shall never become the woman I'd trained you to be. The only way to regain any semblance of propriety in your life is to rectify your situation and marry him. It is what is best for the child."
Silent, Breanne stared at her mother, glanced at Reese, and then hastily turned her gaze onto the fire once more.
"If only you had never married Torrington. Then you would not have the babe, and all of your woes would not exist." Her mother shook her head. "Better he had not come into your life. He has brought nothing but disaster and—"
"Woman, if ye say one more word against me brother, I willna be responsible fer me actions," Reese furiously bit out.
A very shocked, very teary, Breanne stared at her mother, mouth agape.
Mrs. Crabtree gasped at Reese's statement and turned to Breanne. She put his warning behind her as she focused on her daughter, gasping in horror at what she witnessed. "Cease your blubbering at once! I have told you time and again that crying is not the mark of a lady. You are not to show your insipid feelings. It is a weakness of character, and it is shameful! Compose yourself, miss!"
Reese stilled and switched his intense stare to Breanne, who now appeared to be deeply ashamed. New understanding dawned in his eyes.
"Will you never cease to show me that you are of no import?"
Breanne opened her mouth to reply. "I will not have-"
"If ye say another word against her ye will regret it. I promise ye." Reese's jaw ticked.
Mrs. Crabtree looked into Reese's eyes, swallowing hard, before uncomfortably averting her gaze.
"If you would excuse me..." Breanne hastened to the kitchen, determined to become occupied with doing something. Her heart raced. Her mother made her so furious when she spoke as if the whole situation was Adam's fault - Adam, who had done nothing but fill her life with joy and lend her strength and determination.
Breanne laughed harshly as she filled a pot with water. And I said nothing. I couldn't even defend him. She shook her head, disgusted. When I finally summon up nerve to defend his memory, it is too late. I did not deserve him; I failed him.
One thing was certain; she would not fail him again.
Soon thereafter, Breanne heard the voices of Brandon, Alla, and her father in the hall. She went about her task of preparing a breakfast for them to eat, denying Alla's assistance when she offered.
At the present moment, what she desired above all else was to be left to her own thoughts. There was no time to waste. Much as she hated Reese's words, they echoed the reality of the net that was fast closing in upon her. There had to be a way, some way for her to remain as she was; an independent woman of reasonable means and stature. If there was any possible way she could keep her position without jeopardizing the future of her unborn child, she needed to find it, and quickly.
"Yer mother is th' reason ye dinna cry at th' funeral, isn't she, lass?"
Breanne's hand paused for a second in slicing the bread, but she did not turn away from the table when responding. "Mother has always tried to instill propriety into me. Yet, I find that I am a poor pupil, indeed."
"Ye proved yerself a grand pupil on tha' day," Reese said, his tone neutral.
"Yes. I suppose I was...on that day."
The kitchen became quiet and Breanne wondered if she was once again alone, but did not wish to turn around and see for herself.
"But ye did care."
She paused again. Though his words were a statement, they seemed to quietly hint at needing an answer. She was baffled as to why. She already told him that she cared; had defended her own feelings religiously, but he had never listened.
He had shrugged her words off each time she had said it before; but this time he was really listening.
She turned away from the table and viewed him. He leaned artlessly against the wall with his arms folded, and waited for her response. Her gaze was steady as she responded, "More than anyone could possibly imagine."
She turned back to the table and continued preparing the meal.
"'Ave ye thought aboot wha' I've said?" he blurted out after a moment of silence.
"I have."
"'Ave ye decided upon anything?"
"I've given you my answer," she quietly informed him, slicing slivers of ham.
"T'was nae th' right answer, lass. So I'm still waitin'."
Drat the man! He would only accept one answer; but she would not be so easily persuaded. She whirled around to face him and tell him just that, but found that he had already walked away. She sighed, knife in hand, staring flatly at the spot where he had just been standing.
Breanne shook her head, dismissing his comment, and began bringing the food to the table. Alla insisted upon helping her do this; and once they had brought all the food in, her guests seated and served themselves.
Mrs. Crabtree's disapproving gaze flicked toward Reese, and then slowly slid over Breanne. The action did not go unnoticed by her; or Reese for that matter. While Breanne had never seen Reese dress in a manner of which her mother would approve, still donning her nightclothes, she had managed to present a still greater contrast to the appropriately decorous attire of the rest of the gathered company.
I suppose I have become overly accustomed to being here alone, she thought. When she had first arrived, she made sure to keep her actions and daily habits the same as they always had been. Over time though, she realized that she was her own person. She was essentially out in the middle of nowhere, and had no one to please, or answer to. There was no reason for her to go through the pains of dressing elaborately, or at all, at the crack of dawn. However, she was beginning very much to regret not dressing on this particular morning.
"Very fine meal," her father said, breaking the silence. He took a swig of his drink and began cutting another piece out of his slice of ham. The statement was followed by an agreeable grunt from Reese, and a nod from Brandon and Alla. Her mother, however, remained eerily quiet; and Breanne supposed it was because of the severe glare accompanying Reese's earlier warning.
Reese and Brandon sat near the end of the table, in the middle of a conversation. Breanne squinted at her plate, straining her ears in effort to hear what they were saying; but it was to no avail. It was peculiar, that two men, who earlier seemed so at odds with each other, were now bending their heads together over their meal, as if involved in some kind of conspiracy.
After everyone finished their breakfast, Breanne, unable to endure her mother's disapproving eyes any longer, hastened up to her room to dress for the day, and when finished, returned to the main hall. She looked around before her eyes finally settled on Reese, who stared at her; his expression carefully blank.
"Where has everyone gone?"
"Would ye like tae go fer a walk?"
Breanne's eyes narrowed on him, suspiciously. "Not really. However, I thank you for the invitation."
Reese leaned against the table; his eyes lazily surveyed her features, and Breanne tried not to squirm.
"I see the question bears rephrasing. We'll be goin' fer a walk, lass." The underlying strength in his tone was a contradiction to the easy stance he'd adopted.
Breanne sighed. "Very well. I shall walk with you, though it won't change a thing," she added before ascending the stairs to retrieve her shawl.
"Do not think I am not aware that you and the Duke of Manchester have been speaking about me," she said, pointing a finger at him once she returned to the ground floor. "I am not daft. It matters not what he or my parents say."
Reese didn't respond to her comments as they left the manor to go outside. In her view, he made the situation all the more awkward with his brooding silence.
"What a beautiful day it is," Breanne awkwardly stated, shielding her eyes from the sun as she glanced up at the sky. Her attempt to have a pleasant conversation wilted like a flower in the desert.
The two continued walking in silence through the grassy slopes. Reese swaggered, hands clasped behind his back, staring straight ahead of him as they ambled past a cluster of houses and down a far slope. At the bottom lay a pond, reflecting the sky's near cobalt, and greenery from the trees roundabout. Breanne stiffened momentarily, an eerie wisp of memory striking her from her morning's dream; but after a swallow, kept walking.
Once they reached the pond's edge, Breanne sat down on a large, flat stone before it, not bothering to ask if he would like to do the same. She had grown weary of being the only one making an effort at polite conversation.
Reese stood near her as she absently plucked a flower from the ground, and staring at the pond, began relieving it of its petals.
"Marry me."
Reese's Scottish burr disrupted her thoughts and for an instant her heart hammered at the prospect of him requesting her hand. The next moment, she recalled that same voice in the darkness of the library, and its vicious words...and the feeling faded. "No, thank you."
"Nay? Thank ye?" He bit out.
She flinched at the coldness in his voice.
"Fer god sakes woman, ye act as if I've just asked ye tae 'ave tea!"
She licked her lips nervously before glancing up at him. "I am sorry if you have taken offense; t'was not meant. But I am not ready to bind myself to any man, especially one I do not love. You hold no love for me either, so there is little point in pretending."
"Nae everyone marries fer love."
"I realize that, but I have sworn that I would not marry without it," she told him quietly. "Such a marriage would not suit either of us."
"Dinna speak fer me," he ordered, tightly. "It would suit me fine, 'else I wouldn't 'ave asked."
"No," she whispered, and then became angry. Tired of the charade, Breanne stood, hands clenched at her sides. "How could you possibly enter into a union with someone who married your brother for the 'contents of his pocketbook?' Have you forgotten so soon what sort of person I am? Shall I assist your memory? You were in the library when you mentioned my sad condition."
Breanne walked closer to him, angrier when he remained silent. "The. Library," she enunciated as if he were slow. "Do you recall the name Sarah?" When he did not respond, she shook her head as if she pitied him. "Have there been so many, then?"
Reese stood immobile, watching her as she advanced towards him. Her golden hair gently lifted with the breeze and her blue eyes flashed angrily as she railed at him. She was a bit of a thing, and yet, she showed no fear, though he was sure she felt it. He admitted to himself that he was actually pleased with this little display. Away from her mother, she seemed to blossom.
"-dead through and through...do you recall those words, MacIntosh?"
Breanne's tirade, her anger, made her unaware of how close she was getting to Reese. It wasn't until they were standing toe to toe that she saw his eyes flash with something; awareness. Her eyes widened in response and she tried to step away, but too late.
Reese took hold of her shoulders, bringing her almost flush against him. Before she could even think to push him away, he lowered his mouth to hers, invading and plundering it to the full. At first the kiss was unyielding, but when he began to feel her response, it became gentle, and caressing. Breanne's lips softened under his own, and his hands immediately drifted up to tangle into her silken hair. When he finally tore away from her and looked into her eyes he drew in a ragged breath.
"I was wrong."
He saw the instant she came out of her daze and understood the meaning of his words. Shame flooded into her face and she immediately pushed away from him.
"Why did you do that?" she whispered, slightly panicked.
Reese shrugged.
"Well, you mustn't do it ever again," she ordered, her voice strained.
"Dinna give me orders. There'll be one other time I'll 'ave tae do it."
At her baffled expression, he expounded on the matter. "After th' sermon."
"No...no, no, no," she shook her head.
Reese's jaw clenched and he took a step towards her. "I'm tired av hearin' tha' word."
"I am sorry to say that you must accustom yourself to it."
"Make nae mistake, I will 'ave ye."
Breanne straightened her spine, her lips pursed in defiance, the look of a maelstrom in her eyes. Reese watched her impassively. After all, he'd felt her coldness melt and windstorm calm in his arms just moments before.
"You need to understand something," she began, swiping windblown strands of hair behind her ear, and lifting her chin. "I am charge to myself and I'll not be bullied. What is more...with all due respect, I would not marry you, were you the last man on God's green earth."
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A/N: ***REVISED*** PLEASE NOTE: New readers, this novel is going through major revision. If you do NOT see the word "revised" along with the chapter title, it means that portion of the text has not yet been updated to reflect the altered plot points. Read such chapters at your own risk. Chapters marked "REVISED" have been updated and are perfectly safe to read. :)
Long time, beautiful, precious readers: Please reread the revised chapters as they come out. I know that I am testing your patience (hopefully not beyond the breaking point); but these "new old" chapters pave the way for the ending of the story, and the continued series. So, if you skip the re-read, you may wind up frustrated and confused. Thank you SO MUCH for your continual love and faithful readership!
(This note will accompany each of the revised chapters, until the book is complete.)