Sorrell went to the door and opened it and before stepping out she turned to him. “Will you long regret sending me away?” She didn’t wait for an answer, she left and didn’t look back.
John regretted it the instant she walked out the door. He long ago stopped wishing and hoping things would be different. Things were what they were and you either dealt with them or let them beat you down. His life had been hell these past two years and he wasn’t sure what future, if any, he had. And he wouldn’t drag Sorrell down into the fiery pit to suffer with him. She had a loving family and he couldn’t give her that. He couldn’t give her anything. He wasn’t even sure if he could give her love.
It was time for him to leave.
Sorrell rarely shed a tear even when young, though she had shed several when each of her parents died. The thought of never seeing and talking to her parents again had been unbearable and while time had helped ease the pain, it never truly went away.
She felt that way now about John. He would go away and she would never see him again and her heart felt as if it shattered into thousands of pieces that she would never be able to put back together again. He was a good man, and though he tried hard to convince her otherwise, he never would. From the first moment they met he had protected her and he did so now, sending her away before she could make a mistake she would regret.
But would she?
Somehow, in some crazy way, she had come to care for this man she barely knew. That was one thing he’d been right about. She didn’t know him. He was still a stranger, and yet, he did not feel like one. It felt more like they had known each other for some time. Trusted each other. Loved each other.
Love?
One didn’t find love that fast.
A preposterous notion. Simply not possible.
“Sorrell, are you all right?”
Sorrell shut her eyes briefly. At the moment, she wasn’t interested in hearing Willow sprout sensible advice.
“I heard you crying as you rushed in here to Mum’s solar. You so rarely cry, I was worried.”
Guilt tore at Sorrell for feeling that way about Willow when she was concerned for her. She wiped at her eyes, annoyed at herself for crying, and turned to Willow.
“I’m fine.”
Willow hurried over to her, sitting on the footstool in front of Sorrell’s chair. “You’re not fine if you’ve been crying. What’s wrong?”
Willow so reminded Sorrell of their mum, always concerned for others, always able to see both sides of things, always able to comfort, and a voice so soft and soothing that for a moment she thought her mum sat in front of her.
“I think I have feelings for John,” she confessed to her own disbelief.
Willow turned a gentle smile on her sister. “I think you do too.”
Sorrell drew her head back, surprised. “You do? Why?”
“Do you remember Mum telling us that love was impossible to hide?”
“I do, since I told her I could hide anything and it not be found.”
“And Mum found everything you ever hid,” Willow said with a chuckle.
“But I’m not talking about love. I only realized—admitted to you—that I had feelings for him.”
“A prelude to love, and just because you have only realized it, doesn’t mean that it hasn’t shown on you.”
“I don’t understand. I didn’t do anything different. I’ve been me all along,” Sorrell argued.
“Let me tell you how you’ve been you since his arrival. You seek him out every day—”
“To tell him what chores need doing.”
“And do you need to stay with him while he does them and talk endlessly with him? Or give him a cottage to use while here? Or tell Dorrit to feed him well? Or worry when you haven’t seen him for a couple of hours? Or talk endlessly about him to me and Snow? Or smile more than you’ve smiled in quite a while? Or look at him with eyes that—”
“He kissed me and I didn’t stop him. I didn’t want to stop him. And I liked it so very, very much.”
A sadness filled Willow’s heart for her sister. “I wish—”
“I know. I wish the same,” Sorrell said and a lone tear slipped down her cheek.
Willow stood and squeezed in the chair with Sorrell, wrapping her arm around her, and the two snuggled together.
“I’m so sorry, Sorrell.”
“I would prefer John to be my destiny, rather than Seth. But he chases me away for my own good, so he says, and maybe it is so. I don’t know anything about him. He warns me he’s not a kind man. Instinct tells me he is, but, I wonder if I am blind to him because I feel something for this man. Something I have never felt before. Something that aches and tugs at me and won’t let go. And yet, there is no point to pursuing it when my fate is already sealed.”