I paused. Tears stung my eyes, and my cheeks grew hot. “I . . .” I said, about to continue. But Aidan put up his hand to stop me.

“And what about the house where you were expected? I assume you went to explain why you had not arrived?”

“No,” I said miserably, “I didn’t go.” And then I blurted out the rest. “T-they were Mr. and Mrs. Boyle, your guests here some months ago, and—”

He stared at me. “And you stood here in this room and told them a bald-faced lie?”

“Yes, but I was afraid if I told the truth you’d dismiss me and make me go there . . . a-and by that time I had grown so fond of Lily I couldn’t bear to leave her.”

I didn’t add that I could not bear the thought of leaving him as well.

“And I presume you never wrote to your mother and told her where you were?”

I bowed my head. “No,” I whispered.

Aidan sighed and looked away from me toward the fireplace. I stopped talking and waited for him to tell me to pack my bags and leave. But it was not to be that easy.

When he looked back his face was pale, and there was a hint of sadness in his eyes.

The tears I had been holding back threatened to erupt. I had nothing left to say in my own defense. I stood, waiting for my sentence. Aidan tore his gaze away from me and stared past me toward the front window.

“All that time you were telling me about your family, you were lying to me,” he said, his voice hoarse. “How could you?”

I realized then how much I had hurt him. I began to cry.

His voice was almost a whisper. “If you’d told me right away, we might have worked things out. After all, your sister was dead and you were not harming her. But you continued to lie to me, you never wrote to your mother and said where you were and you lied to Mr. and Mrs. Boyle. Just when did you propose to tell me the truth?”

“I know you won’t believe me, but I was going to tell you today,” I sobbed, “but the letter got here first. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

I turned to leave, but he got up and caught me by the arm. “As I expect you realize by now, I can’t take you to Texas.”

I nodded. “I know that, sir.”

“Where will you go?”

I shrugged my shoulders in defeat. “Back to Donegal, sir. ’Tis where I belong. I never belonged here in the first place. I always dreamed adventure would make me happy, would change me, but I realize now I’m still the same Delia—the same worthless chit that Ma always said I was. She always said I didn’t deserve happiness, and she was right.”