Chapter Twelve #3
“I’m not afraid,” she lied. “And Lizzy isn’t the reason we shouldn’t be seen together. It is Lady Emma. She will not take kindly to you and me keeping company.” She took the basket from him.
Harry made a dismissive sound. “I don’t care for her opinion.”
“I do,” Portia said. “She is my landlord’s daughter, remember? I like Camber Hall. I like Glenfinnan. I want to keep my roof over my head. If she grows too jealous, she will make her father turn us out.”
She went out the door. Harry followed, catching her arm and turning her to him. “I’m not worried about Lady Emma,” he restated. “And if you want Camber Hall, I shall buy it for you. It is the least I should do for you.”
“You should do nothing for me, especially buying my house for me. What will people think?”
“I don’t care what they think,” Harry answered. “I’m only concerned that you are free of the tyranny of Moncrieffe’s pampered daughter.”
“And I worry about my reputation.” She looked around to assure herself they were alone. This sense of impending disaster was not comfortable. “I would be ruined completely if the valley knew.”
“If the valley knew what? That you are my mistress?”
Mistress. It was such an ugly word.
It also was the truth. And this was not how her life was supposed to be.
She’d prided herself on being circumspect and dutiful.
She’d thought she would die a spinster, never knowing the touch of a man, and now, here he was.
Harry had turned her life inside out. All he had to do was glance at her and she would toss aside all that she’d once held dear.
“I’m not your mistress,” she said. “I come here of my own free will.”
That didn’t sound good, either.
“I didn’t mean an insult,” Harry said. “Please, Portia, I care for you. I only sought to help, not to insult you. But I’m a wealthy man. My brother saw to my investments, and I could make your life easier. I can buy whatever you want and would do so happily.”
I care for you.
After all the passion they had expended on each other, all the energy, “I care for you” sounded like the milk toast one would feed a child. The words sounded trivial.
“I know you care for me, Harry,” she responded in a surprisingly strong voice. “I just don’t want you to ruin me.”
“I already have,” he replied, the words heavier than any physical blow.
Immediately, he heard what he’d said and apologized.
“I didn’t mean that the way they sounded.
” He held out his hands as if begging her to understand.
“I meant no offense. I want to be here with you. I think you want to be with me as well.”
She did. But she also realized they couldn’t go on forever like this. Something would change. It was inevitable.
He spoke, his jaw tightening with resolution. “I’m going with you to see Lizzy.” He began saddling his horse.
Portia’s response was to turn and start walking, her stomach feeling as if it was full of stones. She was being unwise. She should stop meeting him—
“Portia.” He said her name before taking her arm and turning her around. His lips came down on hers. He held her, kissing her and saying with his touch what they were both afraid to speak aloud. In his kiss was an apology, a wish that all could be different, a promise that his feelings were honest.
She closed her eyes, giving herself over to him, not embracing him, but standing in his hold, Lizzy’s basket still on one arm.
He broke the kiss, his eyes serious as he said, “You may not want to let me be your protector, but know I shall protect you all the same.”
Their time together was passing—and she was afraid.
Could she return to the loneliness of her spinsterhood after knowing the joy of being in his arms? Or would life be even more unbearable than it had been before him?
She understood why Rose had jumped from her tower.
“You will go with me to Lizzy’s no matter what I want, won’t you?” she asked.
“Yes,” he said. “I must.”
Portia stepped back. His decision was made and her concerns were unimportant. “Let me visit her first. You can come later.” She walked off without waiting for his response.
She’d gone no more than ten steps when she saw Owl. The cat was on the ground close to the tree line. Portia stopped, watching as the cat pounced on something only she could see, hustling with her paws to catch it.
“Portia?” Harry said behind her.
Owl looked up. Her large eyes met Portia’s, and for a second, the animal appeared human. Then, with a flick of her tail, Owl bounded off into the woods in the direction of Lizzy’s house.
Harry was coming up behind her. Portia could hear his booted steps. She turned, almost afraid he’d seen Owl.
And if he did, what would he do to the cat?
Instead, he was focused on her, his expression concerned. “Is something the matter?”
“Don’t follow me,” Portia heard herself say. “Don’t follow me.” She was backing away from him, watching him until she reached the tree line.
She plunged into the forest, but Owl was nowhere to be seen. Even when she called Owl’s name, the cat did not answer.
Portia hurried to deliver her basket to Lizzy.
Harry would follow. He wasn’t the sort of man to wait patiently.