For a moment, he was struck speechless. He’d never imagined she would actually visit him, though he had invited her to do so. Before he could say anything, she opened the door a little wider, and he saw that she was carrying the chess board. ‘I thought we could play a game.’
‘If you want,’ he answered. He wasn’t entirely in the mood to play chess just now, but she opened the door and came inside.
There was something different about her. He couldn’t say exactly what it was, but she was already setting up the game pieces on a side table. ‘White or black?’ she asked him.
‘Black,’ he answered. Her hair, he decided. That’s what was different. Instead of being pinned into a neat chignon, it was pulled back from her face and hanging freely around her shoulders.
‘I have a confession to make,’ she said, after she made her first move.
‘And what is that?’
‘I don’t wish to be...that is...’ She struggled for a moment, trying to choose the right words.
Married to me, he almost said, but didn’t. Instead, he claimed her pawn and waited.
‘I’ve lived my life obeying the rules. Doing what everyone wanted of me. And I realised today, that it’s no life at all.’ Her face was flushed as she contemplated her next move.
He wasn’t entirely certain where she was going with this. Then she continued to speak, adding, ‘I want to learn to break the rules.’
His hand paused upon his knight. ‘I don’t understand.’ What rules was she talking about?
‘I’ve been a good girl. A perfect lady, really. And now I want to change.’
‘You want to be a bad girl?’ In spite of himself, his mouth twitched with humour.
‘Well, not exactly. It’s just that, I would like to be more daring. Perhaps I should climb a tree or learn to swim.’ She lowered her voice and added, ‘Or I could wear trousers.’
Now he did smile. ‘God forbid that you should wear trousers.’ But he envisioned her body wearing form-fitting clothes, and he could imagine the curve of her backside straining at the seams.
Definitely trousers.
‘I want to experience freedom,’ she said softly. ‘And I thought you could help me.’
He still wasn’t entirely certain what she was wanting. But the idea was intriguing. The Laird of Locharr had learned how to be a gentleman from his governess, Miss Goodson. And now, it seemed that Regina wanted lessons on how not to be a lady.
He needed to clarify this. ‘So you’re wanting me to give you lessons on how to be more daring?’
‘Yes. That’s it, exactly. Will you help me?’
The idea held merit, but he still didn’t believe her. ‘Why would you want to change who you are, Regina?’
She hesitated and gave the chess board her full attention. ‘Perhaps I want to change back into the girl I used to be. I don’t like the person I am now.’
Her answer sobered him, for he didn’t understand why. But he pressed further. ‘Who do you want to be?’
‘A woman of courage,’ she answered. ‘Someone brave.’
And then he understood. She was trying to overcome her fear, and he did want to help. Though she had never revealed what had happened to her, he would do everything in his power to make her feel safe again.
‘All right,’ he agreed. ‘But if I help you, there is something I want in return.’
‘I know what you are going to say—’ she began, but he cut her off.
‘No. You don’t.’ He leaned forward and moved his knight. ‘I want you not to be afraid of me.’ He wanted to court her openly, to spend his days with her and find ways to make her smile again.
Regina’s expression turned thoughtful. ‘I’m not afraid of you, Dalton. I’m afraid of myself.’ She made another move and met his gaze. There was fear lingering through her words, though she tried not to show it. ‘I have a confession to make. I saw your brother’s room and I read one of his letters.’
He felt on edge, as if she had trespassed into other memories. Guilt flushed her face, but she continued. ‘Why did your brother say that he wished he was invisible, like you? You are one of the boldest men I’ve ever met. You could never be invisible.’
Dalton didn’t really know what to say, for he didn’t understand it himself. He captured another pawn, wondering how to explain it. ‘I was invisible to my family. They never liked my behaviour, and they found it best to ignore me. When I was a boy, I wanted attention, even if it meant being punished. I got into many scrapes, and sometimes I dragged Brandon into them with me.’ He sobered at the memory. Though he knew his brother’s death had resulted from illness, Dalton blamed himself. If one of them had to die, it should have been him.
‘After my brother died, I tried to be more like Brandon,’ he admitted. ‘I tried to be the man my father wanted, but I was never enough. A few years later, I stopped trying to please them, and I just lived my life the way I wanted to.’ It was all he could do, for he had come to accept that he would always be the outsider in his own family.
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. She took one of his pawns with her own, and her eyes held sympathy. ‘Even if they don’t see the man you are, I do.’
Her words warmed him, but he couldn’t release the guilt. ‘It’s my fault he died, Regina. I was the reason he got sick.’
She shook her head. ‘People get sick all the time, Dalton.’
‘We went to visit Gabriel, and he had come down with scarlet fever. A few days later, Brandon and I were ill. I recovered; he didn’t.’
She was staring at him, her face filled with sorrow. ‘It’s still not your fault.’
He stood from the chess board, unable to believe it. ‘They would have been happier if Brandon had lived.’ There was no
