03 - Dreams of Destiny

by May McGoldrick

  For most of that time, David had been away with his regiment. During the few times when the youngest brother was back home, though, Walter knew the young man was battling the same feelings that had nearly crushed him years before. David did not understand Emma’s games. He did not recognize the web she was spinning. He could not know how quickly Lyon would fall into her trap.

  Walter had always known he had no future with Emma. David, however, had been kept on a string. As far as the younger brother was concerned, he still hoped and believed that Emma would accept his offer of marriage. He still had the stars in his eyes. The dream of the future kept his head in the clouds, even when Emma convinced Lyon to plan a grand affair for the announcement of their engagement. David arrived at Baronsford not knowing what awaited him—that his future was about to change forever.

  The truth never came from Emma, but Lyon. David didn’t stay for the party and the grand announcement. Wounded, he went away, and Walter watched him ride off. David did not even know how fortunate he was.

  CHAPTER 17

  Gwyneth paced like a nervous cat by the window as David read aloud.

  In the light of the full moon, Kildalton Castle gleamed like a diamond over the Firth of Lorn. The wind was now whipping the western sea into a surging demon, and the waves crashed with a devil's rage against the rugged cliffs upon which the Campbell fortress perched.

  No one could have expected the small sailing vessel that was scudding across the glittering firth. But it was, without question, being handled by a master.

  At the small boat's helm, a huge man wearing light armor and a cloak shouted orders to the sailor who, crouching by the single mast, was busy shortening the sail. The third voyager, a warrior nearly the size of the helmsman, sat in the bow of the boat, holding his head in his hands. The sea spray on his armor glistened in the moonlight, but he was no sailor; that was apparent. Low groans escaped from his handsome, full lips, and he kept running his long fingers through his golden red hair.

  David paused and took a breath.

  “What happened to reading quietly?” Gwyneth protested as she stopped pacing.

  David looked up from the page. “You didn’t look too eager to get into bed. So I thought you’d enjoy hearing the story. has an excellent start.”

  “Do you really think so?” she asked, her expression going soft.

  “Absolutely. In fact, I thought the chapter before this one was brilliant. Would you like me to go back and read that one aloud, too?”

  She twisted her hands together and shook her head. “I’ve read it before.”

  “You know, I have a feeling that I may have read this before, too.” He looked down at the pages open before him. “There is something extremely familiar about this tale. ‘Tis as if I know what is going to happen next. But listen to this… The giant's gaze swept from his seasick friend to the shining castle that was now directly above them, and pushed the tiller over with an ease that three men could not have accomplished. The seagoing warrior's long black hair streamed in the wind behind his massive shoulders, and the weathered look of his face could not belie the strength and agility of his muscular body.”

  David looked up and smiled into Gwyneth’s face. “He certainly sounds like one of the pirates from the tales you used to tell me.”

  “You should go now. I need to rest,” she said hurriedly, looking suddenly pale.

  “I told you before. I am not going anywhere.” He stretched his legs out, getting more comfortable in the chair. “Do what you have to do. I promise to be quiet.”

  “David, this is completely improper.” She walked a couple of steps toward him and lowered her voice. “’Twas one thing for us to be in such close quarters on the road, but here at Greenbrae Hall, with so many people around…word of this shall reach my aunt in no time and…and…”

  “She’ll take my side and force you to marry me?” he asked good-naturedly.

  “No! She’ll put me out on the road and make certain my uncle’s lawyers know of the scandal. I shall get disinherited, for sure.”

  “I don’t give a damn about your fortune. I’d marry you if you were penniless. In fact, I’d prefer you that way, as there would be fewer complications. As it stands now, we need to get too many people involved.” He closed the book. “What do you say, Gwyneth? An elopement would suit me perfectly. We could be married before Lady Cavers…”

  “No!” She spun on her heel and headed toward the window. “I can never marry you, Captain Pennington. I’ve told you that a hundred times.”

  “Why in bloody hell not?” He dropped the book on the chair and went after her. “And no riddles this time. I want clear and intelligent answers, without all the trickery.”

  Gwyneth turned around and held a hand up motioning David to keep his distance. “Do not come closer. I need distance to think clearly.”

  He continued toward her. “I don’t want you to think. I want to know the absolute truth, not some watered down version of whatever ‘tis you think I should know.”

  She took a step to the side and pulled a chair between them. “You are not ready for that.”

  “I am ready, Gwyneth.” He tossed the chair aside and grabbed her wrist. “We haven’t much time left. Once Augusta arrives, I have a feeling I shan’t be welcome here at Greenbrae Hall.”

  “You think you welcome now?”

  “Of course.” He pulled her wrist, and she fell against him. She was weak, still injured, and couldn’t fight him…so David took full advantage of it and kissed her before she protested.

  Gwyneth’s complaint was in the form of a soft moan as her lips opened to allow him to deepen the kiss. After a minute of this madness, though, her left hand pressed against his chest, and she pulled her mouth free. “I cannot do this, David. I cannot go through with it, not after what I saw in your eyes in Emma’s room.”

  “What did you see?”

  She took a step back. “You are still in love with her.”

  “How can you say that?” he said angrily. “I didn’t even walk into the room for the fear of upsetting you. I looked at nothing but you, so that you would know I have no interest in anything but you.”

  “You did not walk in there because of me?” she asked incredulously. “But you were upset. You were surrounded by old memories of what was between you two. You could not face your past at the same time that you were facing me.”

  “You are the damndest…” He shook his head. “You enjoy letting your imagination get out of hand, I think. Well, you listen. We are talking of real life here…not some story. What I felt for Emma is dead. It died a long time ago.”

  “Why can you not admit it?” she said stubbornly. “I went there today intentionally. I wanted you to recognize that you are still in love with Emma. You can never have any room in your heart for anyone else. She won’t allow it, and ‘tis only fair to me…”

  “I’ll show you what’s fair.” David took her by the hand and started for the door.

  “Where are you taking me?” She planted her feet, but one tug and she had no choice but to follow.

  “’Tis time, once and for all, that you understood how I felt about her before she died and how I feel now.”

  “David…”

  He didn’t give her a chance to argue. There was a knock on the bedroom door just as he yanked it open. Violet took a step back as David pulled Gwyneth behind him into the hallway.

  “Miss Douglas and I have some unfinished business in the east wing. Would you make certain that no one disturbs us while I convince your bone-headed mistress that she is the only woman that I love? That she is the only woman I intend to marry?”

  Violet’s eyebrows shot up. She curtsied, obviously trying to hide a smile, and stepped out of their way.

  “Violet, please do not let him take me,” Gwyneth called over her shoulder. “I do not want to go. In fact, I suddenly feel quite ill.” She tried again to plant her feet.

  “You will walk there, or I will carry you there. ‘Tis y
our choice.” David said firmly. Several servants walking down the hallway gave them a wide berth as they passed.

  “You are the one besotted by the past,” she muttered under her breath, reluctantly resigning herself to going. “You might as well go alone.”

  “You are far more obsessed with Emma’s memory than I am. We will face it together. And by God, if we have to burn everything in that room to be free of her, then we shall do that together, too. Understood?”

  She kept her chin high, her back straight. Her green eyes were looking into his, but David saw the touch of vulnerability there. “I still stand by my belief.”

  “And I plan to enlighten you.”

  ****

  Gwyneth’s feet dragged. She was actually afraid. Whatever it was that David was trying to do terrified her, even as it gave her hope. His words and actions had set a dim light burning at the end of the dark passageway that she’d assumed was a dead end. It was too much even to dream.

  They stood before Emma’s door. He pushed it open and waited for her to go in first. Gwyneth went in and found the room just as they’d left it. Emma’s presence was everywhere—in the pictures, in her clothes, in everything. She heard the latch and turned around to find David had locked them in.

  “I want no interruptions.”

  There was no escaping it. She had to let him do whatever it was that he had in mind. Gwyneth backed up to the open windows to give him room, to be out of his way. Unlike last time, David’s gaze surveyed the room, taking in everything before his gaze focusing on the life-sized portrait of Emma. It was the work of Sir Joshua Reynolds. The bright red of the roses covering an arbor formed the perfect frame for Emma’s beautiful face and white dress. Gwyneth recalled the days when this very picture used to hang at Baronsford, among the portraits of past and present Pennington family members.

  “’Tis unsettling how much this painting resembles her. I can see why Lyon did not want to have it around Baronsford.” David moved closer and stood before the portrait.

  Gwyneth averted her gaze. She did not know how to deal with the jealousy that was already burning within her. Every second felt like an hour. She felt the knot of worry in her stomach grow while a tight fist squeezed her heart as David continued to study the painting. All the insecurities she carried grew ten-fold. The difference between them was so immense. She didn’t have a fraction of Emma’s beauty, or her sense of style, or her charm when it came to men. She feared at this very moment David might be comparing them, seeing everything that she lacked. Gwyneth remembered a day not long ago when Emma had stood before her and told her exactly what her flaws were.

  Emma was dead, but her spirit still had a tight grip over all of their lives.

  “I think a great painter’s responsibility is to capture not just the obvious beauty of his subject, but to try to portray the real person within. Looking at it this close, ‘tis amazing to see what I never noticed before.”

  David’s comment drew Gwyneth’s attention to his face. She didn’t see any of the torment that had been haunting him for the last couple of years before Emma’s death. His gaze was still on the painting.

  “Sir Joshua has captured her features perfectly, but look what he has done with her eyes. They are cold. Unreadable. And look at the roses. Some of them are wilted, perhaps even diseased. The arbor itself appears to have places where the paint is ginning to bubble and peel, as if the wood beneath is beginning to rot.”

  Gwyneth looked at the details he was pointing out. He was correct. Even the sky in the background looked unsettled to her, where she had once thought it was only sky.

  “When I think back, I cannot recall a time, no matter how far back, that she shared with me what was truly in her mind. I saw a beautiful face, felt the untamed lifeblood pulsing in her veins, but I never knew which direction her heart would take her. I believe I never really knew Emma, but I think Sir Joshua saw through her completely.”

  Gwyneth leaned against the window seal, understanding David’s feelings.

  “I tried to be her shadow for many years,” she said. “She hated that. She did not care for anyone to be that close. She did not want anyone to really know or understand her. I do not believe she ever had a close female companion. She was a very private person.”

  “You are being far too kind. I long ago came to think of her as scheming.” David said sharply. “It took me a while to learn that she often lied when it suited her. Her promises were always empty if they failed to bring her what she wanted.”

  “You are still bitter she chose Lyon over you.”

  “No, I was hurt…and bitter for a long time that she used me as she did before choosing him.” David walked past the painting. He gave a cursory glance at Emma’s dresses lying on the bed, at the smaller paintings against the wall, at the furnishings of the room. “I was young, eager. She was the first woman I was ever attracted to. I had known her for almost my entire life. I thought of her as a friend. Why could I suspect falsehood? She seemed to return my affection, so I trusted her. I planned my life around her. I thought I was even in love with her. She knew me, and I thought I knew her. I wanted her, and she made me believe that she returned my affection.”

  This was exactly what Gwyneth remembered of those days. He was a man in love. “I remember Emma’s engagement to Lyon. You arrived at Baronsford not knowing what was being planned.”

  “Lyon thinks I still blame him for that.” He shook his head. “But he had been away for so long. He had no idea what my feelings for Emma were. He had no idea how far our relationship had developed. To this day, he still doesn’t know that I made a proposal of marriage to Emma two summers earlier—a proposal that she never rejected but only put off. But none of that mattered, anyway. Emma wanted my brother—or at least his title and all that he was inheriting.”

  Gwyneth never knew that David had actually asked for Emma’s hand in marriage, either.

  “But I have no one to blame for what happened then, but myself. I chose to ignore the signs. They were so obvious. Being young and in love makes you blind. In my case, I was blind and foolish.” He knocked a collection of porcelain figures from a table with one sweep of his hand. They broke into hundreds of pieces against the wall, but he paid no heed to them. Neither did Gwyneth.

  “I was not the first man who was intimate with Emma, but I chose not to ask any questions. I told myself that I preferred not to know. I did not care to face what would be embarrassing for both of us. I did not care to think that I might have a competitor when it came to her attentions. But that was only the start. When Emma put off giving me an answer about my offer of marriage, I should have known. sed pretty excuses, but I learned once and for all who she was when Lyon told me about his engagement to Emma.”

  It was too painful to watch him. Gwyneth pressed her back against the window and stared down at the colorful twist of flowers woven into the ornate rug on the floor. There had been so much more between Emma and David than she had even imagined. She felt sick to think how her cousin could go from one brother’s bed to the other’s, putting off rejecting one’s offer of marriage until she could maneuver her way into a more profitable one.

  “I have only begun to tell you about Emma and me, and I can already tell ‘tis more than you wanted to hear.”

  Gwyneth shook her head and looked up. “I thought I knew everything that there was.”

  “What was between Emma and me was a childhood of friendship that developed into a physical affair managed by a manipulative young woman. It had to end sooner or later.” He raised a hand to silence her when Gwyneth tried to object to the simplistic explanation. “When I cornered Emma after hearing of her engagement to Lyon, I demanded an explanation. Her answer was that she owed me nothing. She had made no commitment. I had to learn to let go, were her exact words. ‘Twas time for both of us to move on.”

  “But you couldn’t. That is not the way life is. You had been inseparable for years. I saw how you felt about her, how you treated her, even afte
r she was married to Lyon.”

  “It takes two people to be in love.” David rose to his feet. “That day I realized that Emma had never returned my affection. She never felt the same way that I felt about her. Listening to her, I knew that I had been used. But my eyes were opened that day. I could see her for who she was. Even so, my wounds needed time to heal. Of course, she was marrying my brother, becoming part of my family. I had to find a way to deal with it.”

  “You did not do a very good a job at that,” Gwyneth said frankly. “’Twas dreadful when you stopped coming to Baronsford.”

  David walked toward her. His gaze fixed on her face. “Dreadful for whom?”

  “For everyone,” she said quietly. “For your mother…and Pierce…and even Lyon.”

  “And for you?”

  Gwyneth gave a small nod before looking away. They had made love. She had done things with this man that she wouldn’t dare put on the pages of her notebook. Still, with just a tender look from him, she felt the fire ignite in her belly.

  “I am glad that you are not like her. I am relieved that you don’t try to be. I have always been impressed with the person you were and the woman you have become…despite the influences around you.”

  He gave her more credit than she deserved. He saw more in Gwyneth than she saw in herself.

  “But if I had ever been given the choice growing up,” she admitted, “I would have changed places with Emma in an instant.”

  “I do not understand that. You had your own beauty—your own distinctive talents and intelligence.” He reached her side. “You even ended up with an inheritance anyone would envy. And you never needed Baronsford. What did you think she she st you didn’t?”