Page 5 of The Heir’s Return

How little he must think of her to not even consult her wishes.

All of that had been truly awful, but not as awful as the look upon her closest friend’s face when his mind finally processed what she’d said.

Shock transformed his face into something that made her want to cry all over again. She knew him well enough after all their years of history to read pain and sadness in those beautifully clear eyes of his. Everything about him had become just as beautiful and dear to her as his personality—it had somehow happened without her realizing it. Until that moment, Mina had done her best to deny her physical and emotional attraction to the heir to the Ravenshire earldom, but now that her future had been transformed into something she no longer recognized, she clutched frantically onto that truth. She cared deeply for Harry—she always had—and the thought of having him ripped from her life was as untenable as the loss of a limb. She not only needed him, but she ached to have him with her with such ferocity that she threw the last shreds of propriety aside and wrapped her arms around Harry’s lean torso. As if recognizing the haven of his embrace, Mina’s entire body immediately melted into Harry’s as he enfolded her in his arms. She closed her eyes and allowed him to hold her. She might have been self-conscious about the desperation of her hold on him, but he seemed to be equally as enthusiastic. The way he curved his body around hers and his large hand cupped the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her loose hair, made her feel so safe. She inhaled the scent of his warm, clean skin and soap—could not resist burrowing her face a little deeper into the hollow at the base of his throat.

“Mina.” Harry’s voice was hoarse and tortured, mimicking the way her soul felt. “Mina, look at me.”

Reluctantly, she lifted her head and his fingers slid through her tresses and away. She nearly shivered with unexpected and entirely inappropriate pleasure.

“Did your father say why he arranged the marriage?” Harry asked, his eyes searching her face, darting from one feature to the next.

Mina shook her head and downcast her eyes, afraid she might fall into his arms once again if he kept looking at her like that. “Only that the arrangement was made with an old acquaintance who resides several villages over. I had no idea this was taking place.” At the new wave of betrayal coursing through her, Mina’s fingers curled into the fine lawn of Harry’s shirt, her knuckles pressing into the firm, lean lines of his chest. “He said not one word of it to me until tonight.”

“Surely, there must be a reason.”

“There is not!” Mina snapped a little more loudly than she’d intended. She lowered her voice when next she spoke. “As difficult as it is to comprehend, I knew nothing of the arrangements, and he gave no excuse other than that he thought I might like to be married now that I am more than twenty years of age.” It might have been a trick of the watery moonlight, but she thought she saw a muscle twitch in Harry’s jaw.

“Is that something you might like? To be married?” Harry finally asked, a tautness around his eyes as if he were flinching before a physical blow landed.

Mina tilted her head. “Perhaps, someday…” It was not something she’d ever considered with much weight. Like so many women of her station, it had always been in the back of her mind that she would marry and start a family, or she would find employment. The latter was less likely because her skills were limited and a position managing books was unlikely to be offered to a female. Still, marriage had not yet been a state to which she’d given much thought. As far as she had been concerned, she had plenty of time before she needed to make that decision; her father cared for her, and she had the safety and security of a home. Besides, at that time, the only man she might see attaching herself to for the rest of her days was…well…utterly unattainable even though he currently held her in his arms.

Mina adored Harry, but—while her heart might forever pine for him—he was not for her. He would one day be an earl, and earls’ sons did not marry their stewards’ daughters.

Mina was not blind; she often caught the way Harry watched her. He was a young man with a male’s desires, but not once had he ever made her feel unsafe or acted untowardly. He was the most maddeningly perfect gentleman… But what if he weren’t? What if he kissed her right there in the moonlit courtyard and offered her a taste of what she could never truly call hers? Would she be able to move on after that? Could she more easily walk into marriage with a stranger of her father’s choosing once she could add that punctuation mark to the end of her friendship with Harry? Because that was what she fully expected to occur. No man would allow her to continue to carry on such a close relationship with a man—let alone an unmarried lord. With the wedding day already mere weeks away, Mina knew time was short for her to experience the thing that had kept her awake long into the wee hours of the morning and made her ache in mysterious ways.

Slowly, Mina’s trembling hand raised and tentatively cupped Harry’s cheek. His nostrils flared and his eyelids with their impossibly long, burnished lashes fluttered like the fragile wings of a butterfly. Mina’s breath caught in her throat as the pad of her thumb grazed the soft curve of his lower lip. His arms flexed around her, pressing her curves until they were flush with his body. Mina had never been small for a woman—she was a little too tall, a little too curvaceous—but it had never mattered to her before…especially not now that Harry seemed to be reveling in the contact of their bodies. In fact, she reveled in it.

“If…” Mina whispered, her heart nearly choking her as it pounded frantically within her chest. “If I were ever to find someone with whom I could envision spending the rest of my days.”

This time, it was Harry’s chest that rose and fell with a shaky breath.

Mina lifted her chin in slow increments and leaned forward until their lips were a breath’s distance apart. The moment before their mouths met, Harry’s hand covered hers on his cheek and prevented her progress.

“Mina,” he rasped.

She leaned back, her eyes searching his face. “What—” Her words died when Harry gave a little shake of his head. Mina’s brows melted into a frown, and her hand dropped from Harry’s face.

“I won’t,” Harry whispered. His eyes screwed tightly shut and he gave a violent shake of his head. Standing, he shoved his hands through his hair and scrubbed roughly at his scalp. “I won’t,” he repeated, and Mina’s heart plummeted to her stomach. Her cheeks began to burn with almost painful intensity.

How had she miscalculated so badly? How could she have misread Harry’s interest? Was she so naive that she’d misread deep friendship for attraction?

Pulling her lower lip between her teeth, Mina swiped at the tear tracks left on her cheeks and downcast her eyes. She was too ashamed to meet Harry’s gaze, but she needn’t have worried, because he seemed to look everywhere but directly at her.

“I—I understand, Harry,” said Mina, her voice quavering. She stood with only a little unsteadiness before locking her knees and correcting her posture. “And I apologize. I seem to have misread, that is, I have miscalculated…” She stammered to a stop, her fists clenching at her side.

Gravel crunched beneath Harry’s feet as he strode back over to her, standing so close that the polished toes of his boots grazed the hem of her skirt.

“You are not a woman who miscalculates,” Harry murmured, tilting her face to his with one finger crooked beneath her chin. The blue of his irises was nearly indigo in the moonlight, drawing her into their fathomless depths. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips, and she watched his eyes focus on the motion.

His pupils dilated.

Just when she thought Harry might actually lean down and kiss her, he stepped back and said, “But this is not something I can do. I pray you will take no offense.”

Mina’s lips parted on a pathetic squeak of incoherence; Mina was helpless to find a response to that. Did he wish to kiss her, but he would not allow himself to? Was that what he meant? What held him back?

She longed to throw herself at him and beg for him to kiss her, regardless of his reasons to the contrary, but Mina could not do it. She was not a woman who begged. She was not a woman who asked for things. She had become more self-sufficient than most females of her age and station, more outspoken, surer of herself, and she would not debase her pride simply because she was, for the first time, entirely unsure of her future.

“The wedding will take place next month?” Harry asked, his words slicing through Mina’s reverie.