“Good day, Lily.”
She swallowed tightly. “Good day.”
“I’m finished running,” he said, stating the obvious. But she had the oddest feeling that he spoke of more than exercise. Moving beside her white horse, he reached to help her down. “Will you walk with me? I like to do that after I run.”
There was no harm, she supposed, in walking. But when his hands spanned her waist to ease her to the ground, they caused a disturbing jolt of sensation. And she felt his fingers rest there longer than necessary before he stepped back.
She deliberately looked away, taking Snowflake’s reins and looping them over the branch of a scrubby tree.
A sparrow fluttered from the sky and alighted in the sparse foliage. Rand looked up, then raised a questioning brow. “Lady?”
“Yes. She thinks she’s protecting me.”
“She thinks I cannot defend you without her help?” His laugh sounded strained. “How dare she insult my masculinity.“
To the contrary, Lily suspected Lady was acknowledging his masculinity—protecting her from Rand rather than in spite of him. But she certainly wasn’t going to encourage him by saying so.
They turned and walked along the riverfront, settling easily into a comfortable tempo. Keeping far enough away from him that he couldn’t take her hand, Lily focused on the water. Swans glided majestically, and faint laughter drifted from a river barge whose passengers were enjoying the summer sun.
“Do you run often?” she asked, then realized she knew the answer.
Here was the reason he looked so browned and sleekly muscled. Apparently not all academics spent their days locked away in research.
“Often enough,” he said. “It helps me think.”
Surprised, she turned her head to look up at him. “How can you think while you run that hard?”
“Not during.” Wanting to explain, Rand met her gaze and smiled. “After. Like now. When my body is pleasantly worn-out and I can feel the breeze cooling my skin.”
It had always done that for him, the running. It wasn’t only the speed. It was the strain of pumping muscles, the sound of pounding feet, the delicious gulps of air rushing in and out of his lungs. The rhythm. It all combined to clear his head—to fill his head—leaving no space for worry or concerns. When he was running, he was only running.
And when he stopped, he could always think more clearly. Life seemed simpler. Problems seemed surmountable. Solutions seemed to materialize out of thin air.
But this time, when he’d stopped, Lily had materialized. And he’d thought, quite clearly, that he must be falling in love.
The realization had nearly made his burning leg muscles give way. His heart had hammered against his ribs. Was still hammering against his ribs.
He wasn’t sure he was ready for love, wasn’t sure it was meant for him. Wasn’t he happy the way things were? He’d escaped his personal nightmare and made a life for himself. A good life, a comfortable life, a life in which he didn’t have to answer to anyone.
A lonely life, a little voice whispered.
Lily watched Rand shake his head as though to clear it. ”How long have you been at Oxford?” she blurted out.
“A decade—since I was thirteen. I couldn’t wait to get out of my father’s house, so I jumped at the chance to enter early. He doesn’t approve of what I’ve become, but he cannot tell me what to do any longer.”
“Did he expect you to assist him with his estates?” She knew that Rowan would do that someday, but it was different for Rowan—someday he’d be Lord Trentingham, while Rand would never be more than Lord Hawkridge’s younger brother. “I can understand why you wouldn’t want to do that, or live the life of an idle gentleman. You’d be wasting your talents.”
“I’ve no idea what he expected, but I doubt he harbored dreams of keeping me home. My leaving for Oxford was the only thing we ever agreed on. The old goat was as happy to see the back of me as I was to turn it upon him.”
He grinned as though that was supposed to be amusing, and she smiled in return. But she found it unbearably sad that he’d had to finish growing up by himself—and she sensed it made him sad, too.
No matter what, she’d always have her family and their support. She’d never realized how lucky she was. Rand had pursued his dreams, but he’d done it alone.
No one should have to be alone.
“How did it happen?” she heard him ask, and looked up to find his gaze fixed on where she was absently rubbing the back of her hand.
Swallowing, she hid the hand behind her back. “It doesn’t hurt anymore, if that’s what you’re wondering. It happened long ago.”
He stopped walking. ”But how?” Gently, he retrieved her hand, and she was too embarrassed by its ugliness to protest.
She stared down at the thin white lines. The proof of her imperfection. “A cat. Not Beatrix. And it wasn’t his fault—I was teasing him. I learned to respect animals after that. All animals.”
“I cannot imagine you disrespecting anything.”
Something in his voice made a nervous laugh bubble out of her. “I try not to,” she said, “but I’m far from perfect.”
“You’re close enough to perfect for me,” he said very seriously. His thumb drew circles on her palm, and she shivered. Her lips tingled with remembered sensation.
She licked them. “Rose…”
A puzzled frown appeared on his brow. “Rose? What about her?”
She hesitated. They were standing beneath a tree, and a flutter of wings heralded Lady alighting above them. But Lily’s sparrow friend couldn’t protect her from her confusing feelings.
She suddenly felt very tired. Tired of lying, tired of resisting, tired of the excruciating guilt. She couldn’t do it anymore. This tug-of-war had to end.
She pulled her hand away. “Rose is the reason I shouldn’t be here with you, Rand. She wants you for herself.”
“Ah, so you’re being a good sister, is that it?” To her irritation, his lips curved in a smile. Did he take this for a jest? “Let me tell
