He tightened his grip. “You see, I wished to know you from the first t-time I saw you walking the fell. But only Matthias had the courage to approach. So I let that part of me c-court you, in the only way I knew how.”
She lifted his hand to her cheek. “Oh, Matthew. How lonely you must have been—”
“I never realized it, until I met you. And when I saw young Cassidy’s bravery, d-despite the very inabilities that would make her outcast, as I was—I was shamed by my cowardice. When Leebrook insulted you, I went after him.” He dropped his gaze. “I have been just as much a c-coward in failing to seek you out and admit that I could not defend you. Can you forgive me?”
“But I was the one who deceived you,” she said. “How can you ignore what I—”
He put a finger to her lips. “Once, long ago, there might have been another Isabelle, who was forced by circumstance and a man’s d-dishonor to fight for her survival. Is she here now?”
How she longed to say no. “Yes, Matthew,” she said, withdrawing her hand from his. “She is a part of me. I cannot disavow her choices.”
“But now, here, today… you have n-new choices to make.” He recaptured her hand. “I shall be a coward no longer. I must know. Is it only M-matthias whom you…” His tan skin reddened. “Have I hope, Isabelle?”
“Hope?” she whispered.
“When I returned, I feared I had lost you. I knew it was Matthias you cared for. Now he is gone, and p-perhaps I am a poor second.” Even as he spoke, his eyes watched her with longing.
Isabelle’s heart hammered beneath her ribs. “But you are Matthias.”
“He will always be a part of me.” His fingers caressed hers. “But he was a role I played, a phantom. I have something b-better than fantasies to live for, now.”
Yes. Matthias’s peace was there, in Matthew’s face, in his voice. The anguish and remorse to which Matthew had referred seemed to disappear, taking hers along with it.
“I love you, Isabelle,” he said.
She closed her eyes. This was a dream. Matthew and Matthias spoke to her with one voice, united—of love. Love with its eyes wide open. No tricks, no deception, no remorse.
He gathered both her hands in his and knelt beside her. “Can you love me, Isabelle? As I am?”
She rested her forehead against his shoulder. “Oh, Matthew… give me time. This is not something I expected to happen. Ever again.”
“Of course.” He stroked her hair. “It takes time to learn to t-trust again. And a man can live a very long while on hope, my bonny, dear one.”
She looked into his kindly eyes. “Matthew… I came to find you for a reason. It cannot wait.” Putting her own confusion aside, she explained how Cassidy planned to help Rowena, and her own part in the venture.
“But we need someone to drive us to the station,” she said. “I did not know who else I could turn to.”
“You came to me. And I will help.” He rose, pulling her up with him. “You… w-wish to accompany Rowena to America?”
“No. I’d planned to leave Greyburn—but certain circumstances have changed in the past little while.” She backed away from Matthew. “We cannot ask the grooms to prepare the carriage, nor can we hide our roles in this.”
“I understand.” He held her gaze but made no attempt to follow her to the door. “I have some s-skill with horses. I can do what is necessary.”
“Then come to the stables an hour before dawn tomorrow morning. We must take the carriage to meet Rowena a safe distance from the house.”
“I shall be there.”
Isabelle left the cottage and climbed the fell, refusing to look back. She’d expected this meeting to be humiliating and painful, but all her predictions proved false. She had one night to make a decision that would determine her future: to give her heart and her trust to a man she barely knew, well aware that in England she would never be able to forget her past—