Page 33 of The Scarred Lyon

Perplexing emotions overwhelmed him, and he stood so suddenly that he nearly knocked the chair over. “I will light the candles.”

“Lady is by the door. Does she want to leave?”

“I believe she has some business to attend to.”

Augusta laughed. “Of course, how silly of me. But what if she runs away?”

“Here’s the test: If she returns, Lady has accepted us. If not, it is her decision to move on.” Duncan stepped to the door and cracked it open. Lady vanished into the twilight.

As several moments passed, Duncan could see the anxiety grow on Augusta’s face. He was about to close the door when he heard scratching on the wood. Duncan opened the door wider, and Lady bounded inside, her tongue lolling. “Good evening, my lady.” Duncan smiled as he closed the door.

Lady replied with a soft woof as she settled near the fire.

Augusta smiled. “She came back to us.”

“We are a family now.”

Truer words never spoken, and it filled his heart with joy.

Chapter Fifteen

The next morning, Augusta woke to find that Lady had entered the tent overnight and was curled up near the end of their makeshift bed. Yawning, she rolled over and carefully got to her feet, trying to put weight on her ankle. It was a little better than the day before, and when she looked down, it wasn’t as swollen.

The cabin had only two small windows on each side of the front door. She noticed that some snow had melted, letting the sun peek through the thick clouds and illuminate the area with natural light. That seemed promising. After gathering her case, she moved toward the door and the privy beyond. Augusta looked back. Lady raised her head out of curiosity, then yawned and lowered it, continuing to sleep.

By the time she returned, Duncan had risen.

He came to her and kissed her cheek. “Good morning.”

She was tempted to grab fistfuls of his shirt and pull him in close for a more passionate kiss. Perhaps later. “Good morning. The sun is trying its best to peek through. I think we received a few more inches of snow last night.”

“Hopefully, that will be the last of it.”

She pointed at Lady. “She slept with us.”

“She is part of our pack, now,” Duncan smiled. “Lady has accepted us.”

“A pack. How wonderful. We should have more of the sliced meat for a meal before it spoils. Along with the bread,” Augusta suggested.

“I’ll build up the fire.”

They went about their duties working as a team, and in no time at all, they were sitting by the fire, the food and mugs of tea spread out before them on top of the trunk. Lady was nibbling on a plate of sausages and cheese.

Augusta cleared the dishes away and sat again, facing Duncan. “Shall we continue where we left off yesterday?”

He gave her a wry half smile. “I was afraid you would say that.”

“Is it that difficult to speak of? We do not have to do it now.”

Duncan exhaled. “I am tempted not to speak of it—ever. But holding it in for the past five years has not done me any good. All that guilt does is eat away at me, leaving me cross and withdrawn. I am aware of my many faults. As you said, how can we move toward the future if we cannot grapple with the past?”

“How wise of me. Shall I go first?” Duncan nodded as he sipped his tea. “There is not much more to reveal. Over the past five years, I have lived a quiet life of seclusion, raising Reese and sharing household duties with my companion, Prisilla. It gave me a lot of time to reflect, and I did not much like the spoiled girl I’d been, the one who had run away. I also have many faults, but I owned up to them and made peace with my past, at least part of it. What I did was capricious, selfish, and dangerous. I did not give my family a thought, nor did I consider how my self-seeking actions would harm them in society’s eyes. I’m incredibly lucky that none of what I did leaked into the public purview.” Augusta frowned.

“I owe my family an apology,” she continued. “Yes, my father was and is overbearing and high-handed, and wanted to marry me off to some old marquess. Surely, we could have worked it out. Instead, I fled. I was a coward. A scared, spoiled little girl. Perhaps I convinced myself I was in love with Southen.” Augusta hesitated, then shook her head. “No, it was love, however brief. On my side, at least. A youthful, intense, ultimately vulnerable experience.”

“I imagine young love encompasses all that and the thrill of that first rush of emotion.”

“It did. But when I received the eviction notice, where did I run? To my family. I should have apologized then and there, but the letter my father sent after Reese was born, saying I was not to bring my bastard child across his threshold? It stirred my anger afresh.”