Grinding his teeth as he watched her run from him, Gavin knew Mary was right. The marriage arrangement was wrong, no matter how her brothers thought they were protecting her by it. They should have dispensed with the idea the moment it came up. And he had gone along with it. Said nothing in Mary’s defense. Why? To keep up appearances? Maintain alliances? He should have argued with Daniel years ago on the matter. He was a coward, undeserving of one so brave as Mary. She’d risked everything to take her stand and still refused to give ground.

 A noise at the inn door caught his attention. Lily stood on the stoop, arms crossed. She cleared her throat and fixed him with a raised eyebrow and expression that denoted well? What are you going to do about this?

 Anger bubbled in him. Anger at himself for not acting sooner. It was high past time for him to tell Mary how he felt. It might not change anything, but he wouldn’t allow her to go through the rest of her life thinking he never cared for her.

 He set off toward the inn, brushing by Lily without acknowledgment. Intent on his task, he took the stairs two at a time and didn’t bother knocking before he barged into Mary’s room, mouth already forming the first words of his continued argument. No sooner had he crossed the threshold than the words escaped him and his boots rooted to the floorboards.

 “Gavin!” Mary stood barefoot beside the armoire, shirt clutched to her chest, having just removed it, clad in her thin chemise and trousers.

 He should retreat, turn around and begin apologizing profusely. But in that moment, seeing her so beautiful and vulnerable before him, knowing she was meant for someone else’s eyes and touch, he couldn’t stomach any more apologies. Instead, he kicked the door shut with his heel and marched forward as though she weren’t standing there half-dressed, cropped hair disheveled and bare arms demanding his touch.

 Her eyes went round, but she didn’t shy away. He swallowed a smile. Bold, stubborn, Mary. How his heart sang to be near her.

 “Yer nae th’ only one inconvenienced by expectations,” he began, his voice rough as gravel. “Dae ye think it pleases me tae hand ye over tae yer family an’ this man Ah dunnae ken but would gladly run through wi’ a saber?”

 Shock registered at his statement, but she notched up her chin. “I should think it doesn’t matter one way or the other–“

 “Oh, but it does, mah hen.” He closed the distance between them, giving in to the desire to run his fingertips along her arms and catch her in a light embrace. She gasped as gooseflesh erupted along her arms in his wake. A possessive pleasure took hold of him at the sight and he allowed himself a small smile. Then he locked his gaze with hers, willing every ounce of earnestness he possessed into his words. “Ye’re right, I’ve been a coward.”

 Her cheeks flushed. “I didn’t say…” her words trailed off as she shook her head and ducked her chin. He crooked a finger under her chin and brought her gaze back up to meet his. “Can ye deny it’s what ye implied?” The words were a soft hum, a means to fill the heated space between them as he watched the color deepen in her cheeks and her throat move with a swallow. Beneath his hand she began to tremble. In another moment she would dart her tongue over those rosy lips, and he doubted he’d restrain himself from kissing her.

 Taking a step back, he inhaled. What was he doing? This was madness, but he’d already started in on his confession, he couldn’t leave it unsaid now. “Ah care fur ye, lass,” he managed to force the words past his lips with difficulty, sure she would shrink from him, or else find amusement in what he said. “More than Ah hae a right tae. Ah knew yer feelin’s didnae match mine, but Ah should hae gone tae Daniel, requested tae court ye. Ah was sae sure ay his disapproval, Ah never attempted–“

 “You would have courted me?” Mary’s look of wonder reminded Gavin of his foolishness in admitting to these feelings. As expected, she’d never thought of him in such an intimate vein. He searched for a reasonable conclusion to the conversation so he could turn tail and run.

 “A fool’s hope,” he attempted a light laugh. “But Ah could hae made peace wi’ life knowin’ Ah’d made th’ attempt an’ had nae regrets. I’ll stand beside ye, Mary. If it costs me th’ friendship ay yer family, sae be it. But ken that Ah don’t expect it will sway yer brothers.”

 Tears filled Mary’s eyes and she cast them to the floor. He didn’t dare approach her again. He’d said his peace, chosen his allegiance, and none of it would make any difference. Swallowing against the lump in his throat, Gavin turned to leave. A small hand stayed his motion and he looked over into Mary’s glistening eyes. She’d forgotten the shirt, letting it dangle beside her in a limp grip as she stood with only the chemise to cover the fullness of her breasts, rising and falling with her nervous breaths. 

 “It wasn’t a fool’s hope, Gavin, will you never cease your assumptions?” she let out a small laugh, lowering her lashes. “I suppose I can’t expect a change I never made myself, can I?”

 Not a fool’s hope? He blinked his confusion. What was she saying? Her eyes darted about, not focusing on any object, her mouth opened and closed, he could almost see the thoughts forming and coalescing in her mind. Then her uncertainty eased. Cheeks brightening with a pink tint, a calmness settled over her that had Gavin breathless in anticipation.

 “We’ve lost so many moments, Gavin. If this is all we’re to have left, what other regrets can we avoid?”

 He couldn’t wrestle his thoughts together; Mary was running a shaking hand across his side and around his back. The other followed suit until she held him in a tentative hug. Was she offering…? With a quick intake of breath, she rose up on her toes and folded herself closer until the exquisite softness of her melded into him.

 With a jolt, he gripped her arms and pushed her away. “Mary we–” We can’t. Tell her we can’t. His mind shouted, but the shock and embarrassment that met him in her startled eyes gave him pause. He saw the fragile courage in those depths on the brink of collapse.

There’s no help for it, you’ll have to disappoint her. She’s intended for another and you can’t–

 “Confound it!” he growled, pulling Mary close and crushing her lips with his in a kiss so long overdue he craved it like a drunk his drink or a gambler his cards. The moment he tasted her there was no returning to rational thought.