Page 50 of His Revelation
Lyon took his time to replace the glass on the shelf, then turned back, crossing his arms in front of his chest, and planting himself between Lysander and the brandy. Not at all subtly, to Lysander’s way of thinking.
“All those things she said about me are true. Ye ken it. I ken it. The Oliphants ken it.”
Does he just shout cold commands?
Tiffany had asked her sister that, and Lysander had bristled, even though he’d seen his older brother grow colder and lessalivesince his wife’s death.
Can you imagine sitting across from that?Tiffany had asked her sister that, but Lysander now realized she’d meant, not Lyon’s appearance, but his personality. And he knew that nay, Tiffany would have never been happy sharing a life with someone as distant and bad-tempered as Lyon had become.
His brother was watching him, and dipped his chin in acknowledgement when he saw Lysander understood his reasoning. “Dinnae blame her for speaking the truth, even if it was rude.”
“I did though,” Lysander whispered, hating this guilt. He turned away from Lyon and stumbled back to the settee. “I did blame her. I set out to hurt her.”
“Then ye owe her an apology.”
“She’ll no’ accept it.” Lysander wouldn’t accept it if she’d been deliberately cruel to him as he had to her. But then, now that he knew Tiffany, he couldn’t imagine her beingdeliberatelycruel.
Oh, shite.
She wasn’t cruel. She was kind-hearted and spoke her mind and acted impulsively, but she wasn’t cruel.
“Ye dinnae ken a woman’s mind, wee brother.” A ghost of a smile touched Lyon’s lips before he shook his head and moved to his desk. “If ye care about her?—”
“I love her.”
It took Lysander a moment to realize the words had come fromhislips, and between one breath and the next, he knew they were the truth. He loved Tiffany Oliphant in a way he hadn’t expected to when dancing with her at the ball. He loved her, and he wanted a future with her.
But first, he had to apologize.
“Then go make it better, ye wee dobber,” growled Lyon. “And leave me to my silence.”
Lysander knew he was in no condition to travel—neither back to Newfincy Castle or to his own estate—but he could give his brother what he asked. As Lyon reached for one of the leather-bound tomes that lined the walls of the study, Lysander closed his eyes and rested his head back against the settee.
His heart felt light and heavy at once. Light, because he’d come to the most amazing realization and was determined to ensure he did everything in his power to convince her of his sincerity. And heavy…because he wasn’t sure if he could.
But he wouldtry.
The brandy made his head swim, but thoughts of Tiffany were more important. He lay in his brother’s home—his ancestors’ home—and with a slight smile on his lips, began to plan.
Again.
Here’s hoping ye dinnae fook this one up as badly as the last.
Indeed.
CHAPTER 11
Staring at the lass in the mirror, Tiffany hardly recognized herself. She seemed…duller, perhaps? The smudges under her eyes were thanks to the poor sleep over the last week, and sheknewshe hadn’t been eating well either. All of that could explain howsunkenshe looked…and felt.
When she lifted her hand to brush her fingertips across her cheek, Tiffany barely felt it. She barely felt anything these days.
This is who you are.
This lass in the mirror was who she’d become, and Tiffany was surprised she didn’t hate it. Yes, her mother had berated her, offering her all sorts of beauty fixes, but Tiffany had refused. She didn’twanther hair to return to its old luster, or her eyes to sparkle with?—
Actually, she wouldn’t mind seeing her eyes sparkling again, but whereas looking in the mirror once caused her to sparkle with vain pride, Tiffany wanted her eyes to sparkle withlove.
Sighing, she turned her face away.
