Nestled amongst a scattering of trees, the forlorn cabin begged for attention. The windows were void of glass and the narrow door was ajar, beckoning anyone who may, to come inside and soothe its loneliness.
“I will expect the basket to be taken no later than a quarter past two in the afternoon and be delivered within the hour.” Cyprian paused. “If you fail to do this, I will make certain you never forget again.?
??
Unbidden, the question tumbled from Kitty’s mouth before she could stop it. “Why can’t you deliver it? Your threats upon my family are enough to keep me silent. Why force me to do the work you could do yourself?”
His wiry lips curled upward. “Because this is what I want. And you, Miss Campbell, are in no position to question me.”
***
Cyprian stood in the doorway of the abandoned cabin and watched the terrified girl dash through the trees toward the road. Satisfaction twitched at his mouth. Good. She needed to be afraid of him.
The birds twittered in the trees and the sun glimmered off the newly birthed leaves. Like an apparition, his past whirled around him until he could almost believe it was twenty years ago and he and Camilla had just finished building this cabin.
He turned and looked around the abandoned one-room shelter and his spirit groaned. All the happy memories they had created in this place. All the smiles and pleasant evenings spent in front of the fire, reading or listening to Camilla sing. His throat thickened. Jacob had been born here, had toddled and babbled here, and had given his parents more joy than they’d believed capable in a world now so full of sorrow.
A breeze brushed past, rustling a pile of dry leaves in the corner and the memories vanished as the present gripped his throat. Cyprian pressed out a quiet, bitter laugh.
Brushing a hand along his unshaven jaw he struggled to choke back the emotions that attempted to suffocate. Camilla was his life’s breath. She’d loved him when no one else ever truly had. Grinding his teeth, Cyprian groaned. Anything—any sacrifice, any crime, any sin was worth what it took to keep her with him a little while longer. He needed his wife, and Jacob needed his mother.
Cyprian moved out the door and down the steps looking behind him one last time. At least he could come here every Saturday—and relive the happy memories. For surely only mournful ones awaited him.
Chapter Eight
Why did dinner at the Watson’s have his insides turning upside down and then back up again? Gads. And ‘twas as if his fingers were the size of potatoes from the way he had to keep fussing with his cravat that refused to tie properly. He glanced at the clock on the dresser again before fastidiously fastening his hair behind his head for the tenth time. They would be expecting him within the hour.
Sighing, he shook his head. The kiss he’d almost shared with Kitty yesterday had robbed every thought since. The nervous excitement that circled his limbs kept every muscle weightless and somehow simultaneously heavy. He pushed out a quick breath and stepped back from the mirror to assess his appearance from a distance. Well, not the picture of masculine perfection that he’d like, but it would do. He always seemed to receive the greatest amount of smiles from passing ladies when he wore this navy suit, so perhaps Kitty would... Blast!
He spun for the door and started down the stairs as the bothersome thoughts continued to tickle his mind. Had she wanted it too? The kiss? It seemed so. Thankfully she’d been the stronger one and moved away before their fate was sealed. For surely if he had kissed her, it would have been the end of him.
Snatching his tricorn from his desk he marched out the backdoor and started down the road. Get a hold of yourself, man. The last thing he needed was to pin his desires on a woman that would only bring heartache. He’d promised himself he would wed a woman who believed the same as he—that his marriage would be united. Unlike his parents had been. His heart still cringed at the memories of his father’s heated words and his mother’s quiet rebuttals. The pain such recollections pulled from the depths of his past assaulted him, the immature Nathaniel being quickly placated by the man he’d become. Never again would he have to endure the lack of love caused by hearts that refused to become one. He intended to keep that promise for the sake of his present, and his future.
Once on the stoop of the Watson home he stomped his heels to kick the dust off his shoes. He straightened his jacket again before swinging the door open and entering, flooding his tone with his usual zeal.
“Good evening, all.”
The warm room was empty. Only the crackling fire and waiting furniture greeted him. His perfect posture dropped half an inch. So much for a triumphal entry.
He closed the door and removed his hat. “Did you all hear I was coming and decide to hide?”
“Good evening, Nathaniel.” Kitty stepped into the parlor from the kitchen, removing her striped apron to reveal a yellow, rose-dotted dress that molded to her curves in a way Nathaniel hadn’t thought possible. Simple ringlets bobbed at her neck and an alluring grin threatened to topple his well-placed line of defense.
“Good evening, lovely lady.” Extinguishing every spark of emotion with the skill of a perfect marksman, Nathaniel draped himself in his cloak of dramatic charm and bowed deeply. He closed his eyes and inhaled through his nose. “Aw, Kitty, you have done it again. All I must do is savor that aroma to know this evening’s meal will very likely be the best I’ve ever tasted.” If he stayed jocular he wouldn’t be at risk of succumbing to the emotions that toyed with him so carelessly.
Kitty rolled her eyes and started toward the fire. “Oh, Nathaniel. You’re always full of exaggerated compliments, though I thank you just the same.” The grin behind her eyes toyed with his humor.
“Are you calling me a liar, Miss Campbell?” He stepped forward.
Her lips twitched as if she held back a smile that yearned for exposure. “Should I be?”
Before Nathaniel could respond, Thomas descended the stairs, followed by Eliza.
“Ah, Nathaniel, there you are,” Thomas said.
Nathaniel exchanged shoulder smacks with his friend. “Did you begin to think I wasn’t coming? I’m early.”
“Aren’t you always?” Eliza produced a smile to accompany her slight giggle. She sat in the chair opposite the small table between she and Nathaniel. Her typically fair complexion appeared more peeked than usual and Nathaniel’s medical training shoved to the forefront.