More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
“A wife? Have you not been hearing me, your lofty earlship? I need a competent nurse for Madeline, a cat tamer for that wretch over yon—” Fox jerked his chin toward Mr. Dandy, sitting on the window sill and staring at them as if plotting their demise. “—a fairy godmother to hire devoted servants, a clerk to balance my household accounts, and a bodyguard to ensure no one disturbs my peace.” “So in other words,” Hadley lifted his glass, “a wife.”
No. He was simply . . . threadbare. His soul too tired and too battered to let emotion in or out.
“I ken it’s just . . .” he began slowly, “in marriage, ye become part of someone else. In a way, ye lose yourself in them. With my Aileen, this feels . . . glorious. Our marriage is loving. We support and nourish one another.
“Happiness is what we make of our situation, not what the situation intrinsically is,”
But for the rest of us, life often comes as more fractured particles of joy, just wee bits of heaven. The trick is to be content with the number you’ve been given.
After all, contentment was not measured by experiences lived, but by one’s attitude toward those experiences.
She and Fox were both trapped in their own way. Fox, by the betrayals and shattering pain of his past. Leah, by her own selflessness, by a past that told her she was not valued unless she was useful.
A kelpie adrift in the water, elemental, rising from the very earth itself—strong, indomitable. Breath left him. Of course, she would come. Of course, she would find him. Leah had been saving him from the second he first clapped eyes on her.
Drenched to the bone, hair plastered to her head, cloak and bonnet dripping water, she was the fiercest sight he had ever beheld.
Perhaps happiness for them both was less a destination and more a journey to be explored.
The Leah of now simply held the moment close, cradling the happiness in her heart. No, Fox was not a perfect man, but she adored him, even in his imperfections.
But the heart is always better for loving.”
“Because it means he loved! It means he faced the fear of loss, and let love in anyway!” Leah snapped. “It means he buried a piece of himself with Aileen and their bairn. That’s the price of love, Fox. Joy and grief are two sides of the same coin. Ye cannae have one without the other. It’s foolishness in the extreme tae be so consumed by the possibility of loss that ye miss the joy of love entirely. Sorrow means the heart loved true.”
stifle her greiting sobs. This was the worst part of loss, Leah thought. The endless ambush of emotion. The sense that the worst had passed and then bam! Something unexpected—a
sound, a smell, an image—would bring grief crashing down again.
“Happiness and love are akin tae strawberries.” His voice turned hoarse, and he glanced at his dwindling whisky. “Ye have tae glut yourself when the occasion arises—create memories tae see ye through the dark seasons.”
“Just this. Only a fool cuts off his own arm out of spite. Dinnae be an eejit and let a lack of words amputate a man from your life while he is yet living.” He rested his head back in his arms, eyes closing. “Life is short, sister. Love hard and true . . . while ye still have time.”
“Burdens can be shared, my love.” He was quite sure adoration blazed from his eyes. “You are always the first to reach out and help others, heedless of your own needs. As you intimated the last time we spoke, I haven’t been good about returning the love and support you show me. I aim to fix that. After all, I share the burdens of those I love.”
“Of course. I’ll always come for you, my heart.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Finding you is the easiest thing I’ll ever do. Because when I’m with you, I’m home. However, I have neglected to mention one very important thing.” “Ye have?”
