Page 19 of A Match Made in Heather

“I won’t let you have Highburn,” she vowed as she struggled with shaking hands to lace up her corset’s ties and button up her dress. “I don’t care what happened between us—”

“Liar.”

The soft accusation seared through her, and she flinched. “The past is gone, Garrick,” she shot back, with angry frustration reverberating in her voice. “No matter which one of us was wrong or right in the decisions we made, whatever future we thought we had together ended that night. I’ve moved on.” She forced herself to meet his hard gaze, hoping he couldn’t see that for the lie it was. A part of her deep in her heart would never be over him. “It’s time you did the same.”

* * *

“Lord Townsend.” Davidson shot to his feet as Garrick stormed into his office. “A pleasure to see—”

“Castle Highburn,” he declared without preamble. He placed his palms on the desk and leaned over it toward the startled solicitor. “How do I sell it?Now.”

That was the only way out of this insanity. Sell it, wash his hands of it and ofher—

“You cannot.” Davidson blinked as he took in the dust-covered riding clothes Garrick still wore in his rush to get to the office. He gestured for Garrick to have a seat, but he remained standing, much to the nervous solicitor’s growing unease. “The residency clause isn’t yet met. The only way to be rid of the property is to abandon it, which passes it to Miss Rowland by default.”

A bitter taste coated his tongue. “By surrender, you mean.”

“One could put it that way, I suppose.”

That’s exactly would it would be. A surrender of both the property and his revenge, and then she and the Rowlands would win, because once more they would have driven him away.

Never.

He rubbed at the knot at the back of his neck. It wasn’t Highburn itself that mattered to him. It wascontrolover the property and over clan Rowland that was at stake. If he couldn’t sell it, then—

“Can I give it to Arabel?” Giving it away might just be the solution, because it would behisproperty to bestow. Acknowledgement that he controlled what was never meant to be his, that the Rowlands would only possess it because of the goodness of his vengeful heart.

A spoil of war rather than a surrender. A small distinction, but one that made all the difference.

“Give?” Davidson blinked, as if Garrick had gone mad. Perhaps he had. He’d certainly been out of his mind in the cottage, when he’d been halfway to seducing Arabel. “You cannot do that either, I’m afraid. You have to wait until the month is passed before you can do anything except abandon the property. By then, you might as well sell it.”

By then, being near Arabel would have driven him insane.

Even through his frustrated anger, he felt the snare closing in. There was no way to escape Arabel except by leaving, and if he did that, the Rowlands would win. He’d be damned before he let that happen.

“Are you planning on leaving, then,” Davidson inquired, “before the end of the month?”

To be chased away like a dog with its tail between its legs . . .Like hell he would.“No,” he answered, shuttering his face against the emotions churning inside him. “It seems my plans will keep me right here.”

Day Twelve

With a frustrated groan, Garrick rolled onto his back and stared up at the canopy of his bed, once again sleepless.

Once again thinking of Arabel.

Since he’d arrived at Highburn, he’d endlessly turned over in his mind the conversation—and argument—they’d had that night ten years ago. He’d sifted through each word, every look and emotion, trying to find answers to what they both could have done differently. And he’d discovered . . .

Nothing.He’d been adamant that they had to leave that night, and she’d felt compelled to stay with her family. And then the Rowlands made certain they’d never be together.

Thatwas why he now insisted on keeping Highburn. Not because of the hell her family had cast him into, the months of struggling, stealing, and starving before he found his way into the army, followed by years of fighting just to survive. Not one bit of that mattered anymore. No, the reason he now burned with hatred for the Rowlands came down to one unforgivable act.

They had taken Arabel from him.

For that alone, they deserved to have their beloved Highburn razed to the ground, just as Arabel had accused him of wanting to do. But the way he’d kissed her in the cottage, how she’d responded so eagerly . . .Wasit truly revenge that kept him here?

Revenge certainly hadn’t sent him into that momentary fit of insanity that had him kissing her in the cottage. And he’d wanted to do a lot more than just kiss. If she hadn’t stopped him—

Christ.