Chapter 23 Penny #2
“That you were?” she cut in.
Rosie headed for the exit, but Kit beat her to it, leveraging his long legs and arms to hold the door closed. The two of them squared off ahead of me, Rosie stern and Kit sincere.
After a few seconds, she cut her glare aside to fix it on me. “This is why you said those things to Tessa. That you knew Kit doesn’t fancy women. That you were so sure.”
I nodded.
“You love him, don’t you?” Rosie demanded. “Have you? The whole time?”
Glancing at Kit, I pushed aside a flutter of shame to admit, “Not the whole time, but…” I swallowed. “For some time. Yes.”
Kit’s expression eased into one of affection, and it took all I had not to run to him.
In contrast, Rosie’s shoulders slumped, and I wanted to go to her too. Instead, I stood as though mired in place while both of them stared.
“I wanted so badly to tell you, Rosie,” I said, words rushing out. “You’re my dearest friend here. I didn’t like keeping things from you. Especially big things…”
“Then why did you?” she asked, her eyes still cutting and cold.
I’d thought she would be happy for me. Now, I realized that may not have been the case. I floundered for reply until Kit spoke up in my stead.
“You know how these things can be,” he said. “Some of the people here see care and affection as weakness, and I’m not ignorant to the fact that some of those same people wish me ill. I won’t have Penny hurt because of me. I don’t think you want him hurt, either.”
Rosie stood for a long moment, and Kit remained similarly unmoving.
“No one can know, do you understand?” Kit told her more than asked. “This can’t leave here.”
Finally, she glanced over at me, resigned. “I won’t say anything,” she said.
Kit sighed and released the door handle. “Thank you. Can we walk you home?”
Looking past them at the window beside the door found darkness settling in. Night had fallen, and it comforted me to know that Kit’s concern didn't stop at me being out alone after dark. He had the same consideration for Rosie.
As much as his offer appealed to me, it didn't seem to have the same effect on her.
“I think I need some time alone,” Rosie said. The tabby kitten poked its head out of the basket, and she pushed it back down before walking briskly out of the house.
After closing the door behind her, Kit stood and stared at the floor. “Made a fine mess of that, didn’t I?” he muttered.
I was thinking the same thing about myself.
“Sorry for ruining your evening.” He looked at me. “I should’ve left when she asked.”
Moving forward, I came within arm’s reach of him, craving the closeness we’d shared before. I felt bad about unintentionally misleading Rosie, but worse that Kit blamed himself for what was clearly the fault of my own ignorance.
“It’s your house, Kit. I wanted you here.” My confidence flagged, but it felt too important not to add, “I wanted you here the whole time.”
“It's our house,” he corrected. “You’ve as much right to it as I have.”
His certainty stalled me, and I fumbled to reply. “It’s your family home—”
“You’re my family, Pen.” He took my hand, then gave it a squeeze. “The nearest thing I have, anyway.”
My heart fluttered. I stepped into him, chest to chest, then nose to nose as he bent in to finish our interrupted kiss. His hand splayed on the small of my back, and I curved my body against him. My eyes closed as I savored the moment.
So much had happened so quickly. I could hardly believe that Kit had teased about courting me, and how badly I wanted that. But Rosie leaving hurt and angry put a damper on my mood. It stung to realize my only close friend in this place might not want to be my friend anymore.
How was I supposed to know about women’s intentions or their interest in me?
It made my heart hurt, and I missed Sayla more than ever.
It was months still till spring planting, when Kit and I had promised we would come back.
There were five more Oaths to endure between then and now, and it would be much harder with things with Merrick growing worse at every occasion and Rosie upset with me.
The brown bag containing the pastry I saved to share lay on the coffee table. I didn’t have much appetite for it now.
Kit drew me in once more and kissed my temple. “You said you’ve loved me for some time,” he mused. His breath was warm against my skin. “How long is that, exactly?”
I leaned back and pinned him with a frown. “I didn’t mark the day.”
He chuckled, resting his arm around my waist like it belonged there. I pressed against him again, breathing in the scent that had become such a comfort.
“It just was,” I mumbled, more to myself than him, “like it always had been. I don’t know. Maybe I have loved you the whole time.”
He’d scorned Cait and Edgar for their hasty love affair, but he didn’t deride me now. He just held me close and kissed my head again.
I thought he’d decided to let the topic lie until he asked in a quiet voice, “Why me?”
“Hmm?” I pulled away, needing to see his face. He looked distant, as though lost in thought. When he blinked, his eyes refocused, and he fixed them on me. Sad, somehow.
I cupped my hand to his cheek. His stubble scrubbed my palm. “Why not you?” I asked.
He blinked again, long lashes fluttering over dark, soulful eyes.
I wondered what he was thinking. About Levitt, perhaps, following him out of town, then going no further.
About the years he’d been alone in his house in Forstford, or before that in this once-barren cottage.
I wondered if he felt like I had, that he might grow old and die having never been loved.
If he’d asked this same question of himself when he saw others happily together.
Guiding him gently, I drew him in for one more kiss. This one was sweet and tender as though anything more would disturb such a moment.
“I love you, Kit,” I said, as sure as I’d ever been of anything. “I think I’ll love you forever.”
His lips pressed a firm line, holding back words or feeling, I didn’t know.
Then, he crushed into me and held me as tightly as I often wanted to cling to him.
I knew already that he loved me, but I felt certain then that he needed me too.
Maybe he even needed me to defend him, or his honor, or his tender heart, just not in the way I’d been trying to.
But he was worth protecting, more fragile than I knew, and maybe more like me than I’d realized.