Page 22 of To Winter at Wildsyde

“Cannot or will not?” she demanded, staring at the rigid set of his shoulders.

“Does it matter?”

“I think so.”

He grunted and shook his head. “Both. Either.”

“May I at least have a reason?” She sounded calm, rational, though her heart was crashing about in her chest. How could he make love to her with such passion and then reject her so summarily?

“Ye are a clever lass,” he said, still not turning. “Cleverer than me, I don’t doubt, but I’m nae such a fool that I’ll let ye rule me.”

“Rule you?” Ruth frowned, perplexed. “Why on earth should I want such a thing? I could not bear a man who did not stand up to me. That’s half the attraction, you great lummox.”

He snorted and shook his head. “Aye, ye say it, ye may even believe it in yer heart, but there’s nae a woman who’s content with that. Ye want to change me, to change everything. Christ, look about ye! I hardly recognise the place, and I’ve been gone less than a month. What will ye do to me, eh? What are yer plans? Do ye reckon to teach me which fork to use and how to act among yer friends so I dinnae shame ye? I winnae do it. I’ll nae do it for ye, nor for anyone else. Do ye hear me?”

His voice had risen as he spoke, his anger palpable.

Ruth wet her lips, shaken by his outburst, and by what he had revealed, an unexpected vulnerability beneath the furious words that made her heart hurt. It occurred to her too late that maybe she’d barged in and changed too much without awaiting his approval. Yes, she had been angry with him, angry with his unwillingness to even speak to her, let alone treat her as a wife, anger at being used and abandoned, but perhaps that didn’t condone such a tit for tat attitude.

“I have made a lot of changes,” she admitted, wincing a little as she remembered what she’d done to his study. “You won’t like all of them, I know, but you were not here to ask and… and I was angry with you for leaving me. I honestly did hope you would like most of the changes though.”

He grunted and leaned back against the wall, his head turned away from her once more, staring out of the window though she doubted he saw what was beyond the glass.

“I don’t want to change who you are, Gordy, any more than I want to change the heart of Wildsyde. It’s beautiful to me, and… and if I make too many changes, I would kill the spirit of the place and all the things I have already begun to love. I am only trying to repair the damage that time and neglect has caused, to… to make it a home for you, for us.”

He made an impatient sound and pushed away from the wall.

“I don’t want you to make a home,” he growled, his frustration evident. “I don’t want that. Surely that was obvious? Decorate all ye like, I said ye could, but I wanted the money, lass, as ye ken well enough. We made a bargain, whether or nae it was spoken aloud. I knew ye desired me, and ye’ll have me until ye are with child.”

Ruth stared at him, at the cold, resolute expression he wore, and tried to reconcile it with the man she’d clung to just moments earlier. That man had murmured words she couldn’t understand but held to her heart all the same, for her heart recognised them even if she did not know their meaning.

“And then?” she asked, already knowing the answer, though she wanted to scream and deny it before he made it real. “When you’ve succeeded?”

“Then ye will return to England to have the child. If it’s a girl, ye may have the raising of her. If it’s a son, he’ll spend the summers with me until he’s twelve and then he’ll return here for good.”

“I see.” Ruth controlled her breathing, concentrating on the steady in and out as her throat closed and her eyes burned. “But I will not return, I take it?”

Gordy shrugged. “I need two sons. When ye feel able to, ye may return to try for the next.”

“Of course.” Ruth nodded, as thought that made complete sense. “An heir and a spare.” She could not quite keep the bitterness from the words.

“Aye,” he said, his tone matching hers, though what he had to be bitter about she didn’t know.

This was what he wanted, was it not?

“And if I keep producing girls? The Stone family does, you know.”

He glanced at her and then looked away again. “I’ll not punish ye for it, if that’s what yer asking, and I’ll nae use yer energy up until ye are spent. If ye have nae the will nor the health to continue, ye may refuse me and I’ll nae blame ye for it. God knows the end of my line winnae be any great loss to the world.”

“How considerate you are.”

Her voice trembled despite her best efforts, and Gordy closed his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Ruth, if ye had hopes of something different. Ye ought to have heeded yer friends.”

“Marry in haste, repent at leisure,” she quipped, though she could not hold back the tears and one fell, leaving a hot trail down her cheek.

“Ach, don’t… don’t cry, lass.”