‘You said you loved me!’
Adam Monroe gazed into huge grey eyes drowning in tears. His throat thickened as he thrust his emotions down.
‘I do, Kitty. I... I care for you. Very much. But it’s impossible...ye must see it.’
She clutched his hands, her nails digging urgently into his skin. He wrenched his gaze from hers and concentrated on her hands: the slender fingers, the soft white skin, the neatly shaped nails.
It’s impossible! She doesna understand the world as I do.
‘Kitty... I canna... I can never give ye the kind of life ye’re accustomed to.’
Too late to regret his weakness in succumbing to that instant attraction that had flared between them the very first time they met. Too late to realise the risk he had run in their clandestine meetings. Those meetings...they had been innocent: walking hand in hand in the woods where they would not be seen, talking and laughing, a few shared kisses, murmured endearments. He’d been naive, not deliberately cruel. He hadn’t understood how the heart could so quickly become engaged, how a lonely girl like Kitty might read more into their meetings than he ever intended. Not that he wouldn’t elope with her given half a chance. But he had not one tenth of a chance! Not one hundredth! He, an architect’s apprentice, she, an earl’s daughter.
‘Your father...never would he consent to such a lowly match for his daughter and ye know it.’
Adam had never even set eyes on the man, who was away from home, in London, leaving his only daughter alone with just the servants and an elderly great-aunt for company. It was no life for a young lady who craved excitement and company in her life.
‘We could run away. We could elope. In Scotland, there is a place...’
Adam laid his fingers against Kitty’s lips.
‘We canna. Ye would not do that to your father.’
Her head jerked back, away from his touch. ‘I would!’ Her eyes burned into his. ‘I must get away before he comes back. You don’t understand. Please, Adam. Take me with you.’
‘Ye would come to resent me. I’m still apprenticed tae Sir Angus for another year, so I canna marry even if I wanted to. I’ve no income until I build my reputation as an architect. And that could take years.’
And before he could begin to establish his own name as an architect, Sir Angus McAvoy had promised to fund a trip for him to Italy, to study the architecture in Florence and Rome and Sienna. If he searched deep in his heart, he knew he couldn’t pass up on such an opportunity; it could be the making of him and of his career. Neither would he betray Sir Angus McAvoy’s trust in him, not after the man had been such a good employer and friend to Adam’s widowed mother, who had worked as Sir Angus’s housekeeper since the death of Adam’s soldier father when Adam was barely out of leading strings.
‘I would not mind, Adam. I...we could live as man and wife until you finish your apprenticeship. And I can be thrifty. I know I can.’
Adam’s heart clenched at the sound of her voice, small and defeated; at the sight of hope dying in her eyes. He closed his own eyes and summoned his strength. Would that he’d had the foresight to avoid this—he should never have indulged himself in meeting with her, but that realisation came too late. He loved her and the thought of never seeing her again tore him apart. But she was only seventeen. Four years younger than he. And it was up to him to be the man. To be strong.
Better she hate him and believe him a scoundrel than she grieve over what might have been.
‘Marriage is no part of my plans; not for many years. I’m fond of ye, Kitty, but this was never more than a pleasant way to pass the time when I had an hour to spare. I thought ye understood that.’
She swallowed, her long, slim throat moving. Adam clenched his hands into fists to stop himself reaching for her, comforting her...
‘You do not know what I must endure at my father’s hands.’
He frowned. Was this some kind of ruse to persuade him to change his mind? She had never before hinted at trouble at home. Loneliness, yes...how could she not be lonely at times, with just herself, her father and her father’s aunt rattling around in that huge house? He understood the loneliness of an only child with just one parent. And the natural wariness of a daughter under the control of a strict father.
‘Tell me.’
The words left his mouth even as he realised that, whatever her reasons, they could change nothing. He and Kitty still came from, and lived in, two separate worlds and, all at once, he was afraid of what she might reveal—afraid that what he learned might render it impossible for him to leave her. Afraid...selfishly...that, if he felt compelled to act, both of their lives would eventually spiral down into regret, blame and destitution.
He raised his hand, palm facing her, silencing her reply. ‘No. On second thoughts, say nothing. It can make no difference. I will still be an architect’s apprentice and ye will still be an earl’s daughter.’
She was clean, well dressed, well fed. She showed no signs of neglect and he had never seen a bruise marring her white skin. She spoke of endurance...but he had seen the state of the people who lived crammed into the tenements in Edinburgh’s old town. There could be no comparison.
He hardened his heart again, knowing he must break hers.
‘Return to your father’s house and, in time, ye’ll see I was right. What ye feel for me isna love. It’s infatuation. And, even were we equals, I am but one-and-twenty and in no mind to marry for a verra long time.’
He succumbed to the urge to touch her once again. He cupped her face and looked deep into those tragic grey eyes, the eyelashes spiky from her tears. ‘When you meet the man who will be your husband—a man who is your equal in society—ye will look back and ye will see I was right, and ye will be grateful to me.’ His hands dropped to rest briefly on her shoulders before sliding down to clasp her upper arms. He squeezed gently before releasing her and then stepping away. ‘I have to go. We leave at first light. God bless ye, Kitty.’
He spun on his heel before she could reply; before her pleas could wring a promise from him that he could not honour. A clean break. It was for the best...he must do the right thing for Kitty even though it tore his heart into shreds.
He strode off through the woods, the fallen leaves crunching beneath his boots, his throat aching as he tried, unsuccessfully, to hold back his tears.
He did not look back.
Copyright © 2020 by Janice Preston