‘No.’ He stopped her continuing by putting a finger on her lips. ‘No more words, not today. We have time enough in Scotland for you to list all the obstacles in our path and for me to dismiss them.’ He smiled gently. ‘For now I just want to hold you until Betsy and my mother return and the world intrudes once more. But one thing I promise you, my love. It won’t always be this way. We will make our own world, you and I.’

He nestled her against him, the top of her head beneath his chin, and with her emotions in turmoil she said no more. But she was going to have to tell him about her past, all of it, if they had any hope of a future together and right now she didn’t know where the strength would come from. If the light in his eyes faded, if he looked at her differently, she would die. She might go on living and breathing and functioning, but inside she would be dead. But he had said he would speak the truth to her at all times and she could do nothing less, and the truth was that she was not the woman he thought her to be.

The fire crackled and spat in the grate, and outside the snow was falling. The room was peaceful and quiet and Alexander made a sound of contentment in his throat, all at odds to what she was feeling. She had reached another crossroads and the path that beckoned could turn into the most painful one yet if she lost him.

Chapter Twenty-Five

The journey to Lawrence’s small estate on the borders of Scotland and England was an uneventful one. Alexander had sent a telegram to say they were coming and when they stepped down from the train at a small country station near Hawick, Lawrence’s carriage was waiting for them. Betsy had been fascinated by the train and was excited at the thought of seeing Rosaleen again, but was wilting by the time the coachman drove through the open iron gates set in a high drystone wall and into the grounds of Lawrence’s property.